#I had to cover all my mirrors in my room and take down anything resembling my comfort character cause I just can’t do it anymore

[vampirecorset]

I can’t wait to be pretty

[darkhymns-fic]

Overtime

On his day off, Husk gets a visit from Alastor. It's routine.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Husk/Alastor Rating: M Word Count: 1640 Mirror: AO3 Notes: Warning for suggestive situations here and some dubious consent. Just a short fic inspired by this art from @star-junk. It just really made me want to write something with it, so I hope it's okay!

--

It’s the creak of the bed that finally wakes Husk up. Wide-eyed. Fur standing on end. Vulnerable.

Maybe he should be surprised, but he's not at all. All he can think about is how damn tired he is. He’d already had to deal with errands and stocking up the bar, the crates full of bourbon and absinthe wrecking his back as he carried them. He’d had to deal with multiple grabby hands from the same eight-eyed customer, who whined about not getting his attention. And as well, any weird new activity Charlie was cooking up for the hotel residents, and pulling him into it. Not like Husk’s seeking redemption. He isn’t foolish enough to believe it could ever be for him.

There’s a small dip from behind him, on his bed. Another creak. It’s dark, but Husk doesn’t really need to see. The soft shine of red tells him everything he needs to know.

Another of his boss’s little visits.

Husk’s not alert enough to decide what to do. His limbs still feel heavy and his mouth is all dry from drinking himself to sleep. The weight keeps moving around on top of him, softly treading, like an animal through the brush. What makes it all the more eerie though is that he can’t even hear the shadow over him breathe.

That’s when he feels the hand on his wing. 

He grits his teeth, then shivers. His throat rumbles with a sound he could barely restrain, still moving out of the shades of sleep. 

Husk realizes too late that he’s not wearing anything. He always goes to bed bare, his own fur a bitch to deal with.

Finally, a voice.

“Dear Husker,” Alastor whispers, leaning down just a bit. The filter over his voice seems to dial all the way down to low. “You sleep so deeply. And it’s already past noon.” He tsks. “Such a layabout.”

Husk softly groans, all as Alastor keeps his hand in that same place. “Well, I was sleeping fine before you fucking showed up. And what do you care how I spend my Saturday?”

He doesn’t need to look to know how deep Alastor’s smile is, how it cuts into his face until it’s all he is.

Before Husk can even ask what’s the goddamn occasion now, the hand on his wing shifts. A thumb rubs against his feathers, the palm edging across the bend of his wing. The upper feathers are shorter, but they’re also sensitive. He’d give his own bottle of whiskey away if it meant he’d just have less of these stupid fucking soft spots of his, where any stimulation at all just did something to him.

And Alastor knows just where such spots were. Just right there, at the wing’s curve, where the feathers softened, where the red edges into the black. The wings had always been such a cruel joke, with its alternating patterns that resembled some cheap roulette wheel. It was always the one game it had been impossible for him to cheat at.

Alastor’s fingers curl into his wing, the thumb continuing to rub patterns, as if he’s memorizing every soft thread that makes up Husk’s body.

“Come on, why are you–” Husk cuts himself off, his body still struggling with the depth of his fatigue. Infuriating that this is all it takes for Alastor to get such reactions from him, and that he knows just when to do it.

But, despite it all, Husk finally gets his body to half-turn instead of just stretching like some depraved animal. His room is still covered in shadows, with only barely muted hallway light coming from the doorway crack. 

None of that matters. He can still easily make out Alastor’s face, his smile like a crescent moon shining over dark woods. Red swam over both, its color searing into him. He’s still fully dressed, unlike Husk. As if he had just left a social meeting, and then went to his pet for a little play.

“Are you sure you weren’t just waiting for me?” the demon above him asks with a low laugh. “You reacted just so quickly, even for you.”

Now he’s actively trying to piss Husk off, but then there’s another touch. This time, right at the inside of his right thigh. Husk shivers again, and this time, he can’t help but arch his back, just slightly.

Alastor’s expression doesn’t change, even as his fingers part through the fur, trailing through white and black. Even as his other hand keeps weaving a soft language into Husk’s feathers. He plays his body like an instrument, fingers tapping along invisible keys that make the one beneath him sing in a melody so few others would ever hear.

And Alastor is certainly enjoying the show before him.

It’s hard to escape. It’s hard to want to escape.

But he manages to speak, even when he’s lost to the soft touches, to the way they grip and hold. They don’t let go. The fingers are greedy, and Husk is all too familiar with greed and its call.

“It’s my day off, boss…”

Even an ironclad soul like his deserves a little mercy.

Alastor leans down, never letting his fingers rest. They change course, maybe even change tempo, but the insistent petting and stroking is still enough to make Husk into a useless pile of limbs and heat. “Then perhaps you should work a little bit of overtime for me.”

The fact that he’s trying to crack a fucking joke with me now.

Husk flinches, one eye shutting as another wave of warmth rolls over him. Hard enough to sleep with his wings that keep getting in the way, that he could never hug to his body tight enough so that they just disappear. Because not even just Alastor, but everyone loves to grab them. It’s too much. He hates it. He hates how his body just betrays him like this.

“You don’t pay me enough for this shit,” he shoots out. He manages to keep his voice steady, his tone deep, at least for that. He glares up at Alastor, letting the red light leak into his eyes. It always burns when he does so, looking directly at the Radio Demon. 

It’s like looking at his forthcoming death.

Alastor notices. So, he shuts his eyes. And then, he lets a hand rush up Husk’s thigh, then up his chest, until they reach his chin. He leans further down, and down. And down.

Until the tips of their noses brush against the other. Until Husk can finally hear the soft breathing from Alastor, can feel it against his fur.

“Then how about I give you a goodnight kiss in exchange?” he asks, finally opening his eyes. The glee in them is almost manic. “For always putting up with me.”

All these stupid games Alastor loves to play.

The fingers grip his chin, while the others over his wing continue their dance. “After all, I know that’s what you like.” Then, a wink, almost coy in its motion. “You’ve always been such a romantic.”

It’s stupid how Husk’s breath hitches at the thought, even when a nightmare looms over his bed, because that’s what Alastor is. The Radio Demon is every awful, heartstopping sound in the dark. He is every fleeting shadow that you see out of the corner of your eyes. He is every ancient folktale that elders warn their children about, of the monster that takes those lost souls who live on the fringes. And he eats, and eats, and eats.

But like any shapeshifting monster, Alastor can look as pleasant as he wants. And right now, his voice is soft, and his hands still play Husk for every note he can find.

Husk opens his mouth, trying to breathe. He lets his tongue run over Alastor’s thumb, which presses just against his bottom lip. Everyone does play with his wings, but only Alastor knows just how to use them to full effect.

“Deal,” he says. It’s barely audible, like the last breath of a dying man. But Alastor understands. He always does.

The kiss is different from the touches. Alastor is a hungry demon, and he shows it through his mouth the most. Lips press down deeply over Husk’s own, and sharp teeth clash. It’s hard and biting. The kiss stings Husk’s tongue, overwhelms his mouth. It’s like being force fed poison all the while.

But the poison is spiked, because kissing Alastor is always so, so addictive. Husk leans his head up, drinks from it as much as he can. He feels the hand wander down his feathers, move between them and pull gently. Because he likes the texture, Alastor once said to Husk. It calms him. It’s pleasing.

Sometimes, he even takes a feather for himself, using it as a quill. And Husk has to see it in the boss’s room sometimes, a piece of himself that is being used, again, and again, and again–

Husk’s wings move to stretch and wrap around Alastor, like a shroud made with red and black, studded with stars and symbols. He brings the nightmare closer. It’s only half against his will.

Maybe one day, he can make them both disappear.

“More,” he groans out, staring into the red, like falling into a sky at dusk. “If you’re gonna make me work like this.”

The shadows don’t hide for him. They grow into shapes that stretch from Alastor’s head, that cover up the walls into pitch black. He doesn’t care, feeling the promise of that kiss again as a tongue presses against his lips.

“Oh, Husker. With me, you never have to work a day in your life.”

He’s too lost to get angry at the comment.

Alastor wears Husk’s wings proudly around his shoulders as he steals him away once again.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tta episode 5

“Last time on Total Takes Action: The teams formed their very own mobs to sell the now-contraband Chef Hatchet's Total Drama Yum Yum Happy Go Time Candy Fish Tails. The Fujoshis, despite a strong lead from Michela, lost after Bonnie ratted the team out, sending them to the Lame-o-Sine- but not without a special goodbye from their “friend” Caesar. Will the Anons keep their lead? Has anyone gotten Michela out of those cuffs yet? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Action!”

A black screen. Nothingness. 

Then, light. 

Caesar picks up the phone and holds the camera to the mirror, using the flash to do his hair in the dark. The bathroom door opens and Joner walks in, pausing to look up at the ceiling. 

“What happened to the lights?”

“They’re out again,” Caesar sighs. “I swear, I’m draining the life out of this thing just from doing my hair!”

“Where’d you even get that?” Sha-Mod asks from a stall. 

Caesar shrugs. “Found it just lying around. I’ve been using it to collect information in case I want to sue later. I have very good lawyers,”

Joner nods and whistles as he pulls a toothbrush out of his back pocket, half of his body out of the view from the camera, and wets it under the tap. There’s a heavy silence over the room. The bags under Caesar’s eyes are dark purple. 

The sound of a toilet flushing and Sha-Mod slamming the stall door follows and he walks in the background before reaching a sink off-screen. 

“Hey,” he says. Caesar looks over. “Sorry about Bonnie, man. It’s not easy.”

Caesar sighs and sets the phone down on the counter, shrouding the screen in darkness again. The audio continues to play without hitch. “It’s not easy. I wish it was,”

“When McLovin got voted off, I didn’t know what that meant for any of us,”

“Well, at least you still have Joner,”

Joner agrees through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

“I only had Bonnie,”

The sound of the door opening follows as someone new enters. “Hey, guys, we’re all meeting outside. We can’t find Chris,”

---

“I knew it was getting too quiet around here!” Scary says. She sounds mad, though the camera is obscured by a curtain of blue- Caesar’s pocket. 

“He probably just left to do something without telling us. Where’s Chef?” Michela asks. 

“Can’t find him either,” O sounds nervous. “No one panic, though, okay? Take deep breaths- everyone count to ten-”

“Oh, can it!” Scary snaps. “This is a challenge, obviously. You are all so juvenile.”

“How do you know?!” Scruffy says, panicking. 

The sound of footsteps. “The gate is locked. It looks like the lot is closed down,” Peter says. “We got evicted.”

Fren clears his throat. “Um… it definitely wasn’t an eviction notice,” 

---

“Oh… oh, this is not good,” O mutters. 

Caesar pulls the camera out of his blazer pocket and begins collecting evidence on the scene. Just inside the gates is a police-taped crime scene, complete with a chalk outline of a mangled body in the middle. Various red stains cover every surface. 

Caesar swallows. “Okay, from now on, this camera stays on,”

Scary ducks under the police tape and walks up to the stain-covered chalk outline. 

“What are you doing!” Peter asks. “This is a crime scene!”

“Oh, please,” they swipe some of the red liquid off the asphalt and lick it off their finger. Everyone gags. “It’s cornstarch and food coloring.”

“Nuh-uh,” O shakes his head. “I’m not playing these games. I’m going back to the trailer and waiting for someone to get us. It’s like my therapist always says-”

Everyone groans. 

"Someone's gonna get him alright," Michela mumbles, wiping some dust off her parka. "If this is a challenge, it must be crime themed."

"But we already had the mobster episode?" Joner asks cautiously. She glares at him for having the audacity to address her.

"There are different subgenres of crime,"

"As much as I hate to admit any of you resemble even the smallest fraction of intelligence, you're likely right," Scary crosses their arms. "Nonetheless, I'm not doing anything until Chris addresses us himself."

And with that, the group disperses.

---

Caesar records the sunset over the city and turns back to the craft services tent, where Michela is trying to open a can of beans with a shank. “Stupid kitchen… I cannot BELIEVE they took the can openers,”

“The sunset is pretty tonight,” Caesar says merrily. 

Peter looks up from the table, where he’s closely seated between Michela and Fren. “Is it?”

Caesar nods, shaking the camera a bit. “Very. And there’s no need to worry, we’ll be fine as long as we stick together, right? They can’t just leave a bunch of teens here,”

“Oh, they can,” Scruffy mumbles from the other table, scratching at a bug bite erratically. “They’ve done it before- but, oh, wait, this isn’t before! This is all new!”

They laugh insanely and Joner and Sha-Mod look between each other uncomfortably. Scary stands. "You people are unbearable. I'm going for a walk,"

Just before they can formally excuse themselves, a scream from the trailer catches everyone’s attention and the group runs outside over the dark set. 

Caesar throws open the trailer door first. “O? O?” But there’s no one there. 

Fren mutters. “Uh-oh,” just as all the lights in camp go out. The screen goes dark. 

A few people scream. Scary laughs. “Oh, God. This is so corny,”

“Hold on, I have a night vision setting on this thing,” Caesar mutters. Suddenly, the vision in the camera returns, everything shrouded in green. 

“Is this really the time to be recording?” Fren asks. “I mean, we’re all on camera anyway.”

“This is for my... personal records, thank you,”

---

The group walks alongside each other back to the craft services tent. Joner walks on one side of Caesar, Michela on the other. They’re very clearly ignoring each other. 

Caesar sighs. “I miss Bonbon,”

Michela gives him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get the feeling. I miss Max, too,”

“They’d both love this kind of thing, huh?” 

Joner watches the interaction nervously, looking between the two and Sha-Mod. He stares at Michela for a few moments, working up the courage to say something, but then turns to Sha-Mod again with a sigh. 

“Sha-Mod, I- hey, wait… Sha-Mod?” he looks around. “Sha-Mod?”

“What happened?” Michela asks cautiously. 

“He was right here!” Joner squeals, hurrying closer to the group. 

The group enters the craft services tent and Michela takes a headcount.

“Okay, we’re just missing O and Sha-Mod. Everyone else is accounted for,” she taps her chin. “This doesn't feel like a crime flick. It must be a horror movie challenge, like last season’s.”

Caesar sighs loudly. “Bonnie…”

Michela ignores him. “Which means we need to stick together to avoid getting picked off. Maybe we should work by the buddy system to make sure no one’s alone,”

Scary rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest. “I call Scruffy,”

“Oh, thank God!” They whimper, clinging to her leg. “B-but at least if this is like last season’s… I’ll know what to do, right?”

Scary pats their head. “Sure thing, champ!”

Fren and Peter link arms, the latter shaking slightly, and Caesar coughs awkwardly. “Well… I have the phone…”

“You’re not seriously comparing your phone to a person?” Michela blinks. He shrugs. “I can’t partner up without Bonnie. It’s not right.”

She sighs and turns to Joner. “Okay, fine. Just don’t talk too much,”

---

The hours tick by. It’s now far after dark, nearing midnight. Scary yawns and stands, then begins walking to the tent flap. 

“Um, where are you going?” Caesar asks, holding the phone up to them as they leave. 

“To bed, numbskull. I’m tired,” 

“Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? You’re gonna get beaten to death in a sleeping bag,” Michela says, rubbing her eyes. 

Fren nods. “We agreed on keeping watch in here,”

“Oh, whatever, you big babies. This is just Chris trying to creep you out, and it’s pathetically working. I have some physics to catch up on,” she walks out into the dark. Scruffy sighs and gets up to follow her. 

“Whatever,” Michela sighs, cradling her head in her hands. Fren pats her back reassuringly. 

---

A few more hours go by. Fren is sleeping, slumped over the table. Peter is rocking back and forth at his feet, and Michela is blinking slowly. 

The phone rests in Caesar’s lap as he snoozes, giving a skewed shot of the table from across the way. Every time he breathes, the camera slowly moves up, then down as he exhales. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet,” Joner nudges Michela’s shoulder. “Remember that one sleepover we had where we pulled an all-nighter?”

She rubs her eyes. “We were twelve,”

“Yeah, but still. We made that pact that whoever passed out first had to take out my mom’s trash the next morning, so we both stayed up and made my little brother do it,” he laughs. “I miss that,” he smiles at her. “I miss us.”

Michela frowns and looks away. “Things are different now,”

“Come on, Miccy. What do I have to do to make it up to you?” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I dunno, why don’t you plan out some huge cheesy gesture to win me over, like in the movies,”

Joner nods in thought as Caesar suddenly wakes with a start, the phone falling off of his lap and onto the grass. He picks it up seconds later and holds it to his face, breathing on the camera and cleaning the lens with his sleeve before turning it back around. “Everyone still here?”

“We heard Scruffy screaming about a half hour ago but nothing else,” Michela leans on the table. “Fren, do you still have to go to the bathroom?”

She nudges him awake. He blinks slowly and nods.

“Okay. Joner, you’re up with me. Let’s go. And stay together,”

The three stand and head out. As they leave the tent, Michela stops them. “What are those?”

Surrounding the tent are dozens of oddly woven branches and piles of rocks. Most of the weaving is shaped like Chris. 

“Symbols!” Joner quivers, hiding behind Michela. 

Michela sighs and continues leading the two out to the bathrooms, avoiding knocking over any of the ornaments. 

---

Caesar sits in the craft services tent, propping up the phone against a box of napkins and pointing it at himself. 

“This is Caesar. Video diary #13,” he folds his hands in his lap. “I’ve been telling everyone I’m collecting evidence, but I just need an outlet. Without Bonnie here, with nothing to do… I feel like I’ve been relying far too much on Bonbon,” he looks down. “I’ve been a burden. I’m useless here. I’m just not built for this show! I’m a host! I-I’m a host! And there’s no shame in that!”

He sighs.

"I just wish I could've done better for Bonnie. I don't know if what we have is platonic or... whatever. But I'd like to figure that out together,"

Peter stirs from under the table and Caesar quickly grabs the camera, flipping it back around. Peter rubs his eyes as he sits up, looking around like he can’t remember where he is. 

“Caesar?” he looks around. “Did everyone else get snatched?”

“Nah, Michela and Joner took Fren to the bathroom… wait, they’ve been gone for like, forty minutes now,” he checks the time on the phone. "Weird."

The tent suddenly begins shaking violently, large shadows on either side casting a menacing frame over the two. Peter jumps and scrambles outside into the dark.

"Peter, wait!" Caesar says, but he disappears. Caesar hugs his knees to his chest and trembles as a dark figure re-enters the tent.

"P-Peter?" he asks, voice shaking.

The figure hurries over, face red and wheezing.

"Joner! What the-"

"Michela and Fren-" he pants. "Dark figures- serial killers- witches!"

Caesar stands. "Okay, that's it!"

Joner collapses to the grass and lies on the ground face-first before looking up as Caesar leaves. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna win this dumb challenge!"

---

Joner jogs to catch up with Caesar as he storms ahead.

"This is suicide, dude! You're gonna get snatched!"

He shakes his head. "I can't think about that now. I'm going to win, I'm going to be the last one standing!"

Joner sighs, his shoulders hanging. "You deserve it, man. You're a better dude than I am,"

"Oh?" Caesar raises an eyebrow, his gossipy tendencies getting the better of him. "Why's that?"

"You're a great friend to Bonnie. You two always have each other's backs and stuff, and I..." he sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "I really let down Miccy. We'll never be friends again."

Caesar slows his walk, thinking aloud. "Bonnie and I aren't perfect. We have our own problems, too... is making it up to Michela what you really want?"

Joner nods, kicking a rock across the grass. "Don't feel bad for me, bro. Even if I did win, there's no way she'll ever forgive me,"

Caesar sighs.

---

"This is Caesar. Video diary #14. I just remember feeling so bad for the little guy. Bonnie and I... our story is just beginning. And I want to find out where that goes together. If Bonnie hated me and we got separated for another four weeks? I don't think I could live with myself,"

---

Joner and Caesar approach the communal bathrooms, their footsteps seeming to echo. The camera swings around to Joner, who blinks, and then back to the door. 

Caesar walks in first, and the camera takes a moment to adjust. Fren is standing in the corner of the bathroom, facing the wall, completely still. 

“Fren…?” Joner asks. 

Something offscreen lunges at the two and they both shriek. The camera cuts to and from black before landing in an odd angle on the floor, giving a skewed shot of Caesar tackling a black-robed figure and attacking it on the ground.

The phone tips over. Black. Caesar screaming. Joner picks up the camera and starts running in the opposite direction as Caesar shrieks "MY HAIR!"

The lights in camp suddenly flash on, and the screen goes white. 

---

“Well… that was fun,” Chris chuckles, standing at the podium in the amphitheater. “I hope all of you enjoyed playing that as much as I like watching it.” He chuckles, holding up Caesar’s phone. “Teens today are too easy- you give them a phone and they do your job for you!”

Everyone crosses their arms and glares at Caesar. He smiles nervously. 

“Ultimately, the Anons took the win again, but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost for you. In fact… Joner came up with a pretty sweet idea for me earlier,” he grins wickedly. The campers stare at him, confused. “But nevermind that. Let’s get this started! Michela, you’re safe.”

“Peter,”

“Fren,”

“O- you were the first out- and Caesar- your spelled doom for your team,” Chris holds up the last Gilded Chris Award. “O…

… You’re safe. Caesar- sorry, dude.”

Caesar mumbles to himself and stands passively, almost pleasantly. 

---

CAESAR: “I’m not even mad. Let’s be real- if I wanted to win, I would! But I wasn’t born to play, I was born to lead. I’m a host at heart. Now it's time to find out what this "Aftermath" thing is all about,”

---

“Who will be taking the carpet of shame next time? And who will make it one step closer to the million? Find out next time, on Total! Takes! Action!”

[mejomonster]

Chapter 111. I have so much to say but words don't say as much as the passage itself. Fei Du knowing it's ambiguous, Luo Wenzhou knowing it's time to clarify but taking care of Fei Du to distract for a moment, Fei Du deciding he'd like to postpone the clarification when he realizes it's about to end, Luo Wenzhou being the more emotionally mature one and. Clarifying. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Fei Du.

Stay inside,” Mu Xiaoqing said. Then she turned to Luo Wenzhou and ordered, “You’re a few years older than he is, you should take some more responsibility and restrain your spoiled temper at home, do you hear me?”

 

This speech was so domestic as to make it suspect. Luo Wenzhou agreed indolently, but Fei Du froze.

 

Then Luo Cheng spoke, saying to Fei Du, “I hear your parents are both not around. If you encounter anything in the future that you really can’t deal with, you can come to us.”

 

Fei Du was surprised and bewildered. Meeting those eyes that resembled Luo Wenzhou’s, he saw that Luo Cheng was actually smiling faintly at him, the expression on his imposing face almost kindly.

 

Mu Xiaoqing waved at him and stuck her hand into Luo Cheng’s pocket to keep warm. Beaming, she said, “Our son has been heartless since he was little. It’s been years since I saw him cry…”

 

Not waiting for her to finish, Luo Wenzhou yowled and cried out, “See you!” then closed the door, shutting out the rest of Mu Xiaoqing’s words.

 

With Mu Xiaoqing and Luo Cheng gone, the tumultuous living room at once quieted down. Luo Wenzhou knew that the old things hadn’t been able to contain themselves and had run over to see Fei Du. At first it had been all right, but in the end they’d sounded like they’d been enjoining a daughter-in-law. Fei Du had a monster-revealing mirror in his heart; he could see clearly through a conspiracy with only the slightest clue, never mind such an obvious demonstration.

 

Luo Wenzhou hadn’t let them come all this time because he’d been afraid they would rashly pierce through the window paper, but now that it had come to this, in spite of himself he was rather expectantly awaiting Fei Du’s reaction—never mind whether it was a good reaction or a bad reaction; at least it would resolve the anxiety of hesitating in place.

 

In contradictory fashion, he didn’t dare to look at Fei Du’s expression. He only seemingly indifferently complained, “They came without even calling ahead. They really know how to make trouble. I’ll go heat up some milk.”

 

Fei Du’s gaze, which seemed to have physical presence, bored heavily into his back, watching him tear open a box of milk, pour a bit into a saucer for Luo Yiguo, then pour the rest into a cup, mix in a spoonful of honey, and stick it into the microwave.

 

Luo Wenzhou knew that Fei Du was watching him, but he couldn’t determine the meaning of that gaze. His tongue moved; he thought over and over of bringing the subject up, breaking the awkward silence, but searching his guts and belly he still couldn’t think of what he wanted to say. A thin layer of sweat broke out on his back. In the whole kitchen, the only sound remaining in the silence was the whirring of the microwave.

 

Then the microwave beeped. Luo Wenzhou pulled himself together and reached out to open the door. Suddenly, a hand reached over from behind him, catching his wrist.

 

Luo Wenzhou gave a start. He’d been lost in thought just now and hadn’t noticed Fei Du approaching.

 

“What did you tell your parents?” Fei Du asked, teasing, carefully stroked his wrist. “I think there’s been a big misunderstanding.”

 

Luo Wenzhou’s throat moved slightly.

 

Fei Du laughed quietly, pecking at the most sensitive place at the base of his ear, his other hand untucking Luo Wenzhou’s shirt. “I just got a scare. Shouldn’t you make it up to me, shixiong? My technique really is very good. Just try it, I guarantee…”

 

Luo Wenzhou held down his groping paw.

 

Fei Du was planning to cover this awkwardness up. Luo Wenzhou was perfectly well aware of the situation and knew what was tactful; of course he understood. If he only went along with this, he could enjoy a bit of unburdened sex before the miserable weekend of overtime, then everyone could cheerfully carry on with the previous ambiguity, happily going on…

 

Until at long last the conditions were right…or the two of them parted ways.

 

“Too rash,” Luo Wenzhou told himself.

 

Then he peeled Fei Du’s hand off of himself, turned, and said to him a word at a time, “My parents have always been fairly permissive towards me, especially after I became an adult. As long as my general direction was all right, they wouldn’t come to interfere—as for who I hung out with, whether I had boyfriends or girlfriends, how I did my job, that was all my business. They wouldn’t ask about it.”

 

Fei Du faintly sensed what he was going to say and stared dumbly at him.

 

“There’s nothing to misunderstand.” Luo Wenzhou’s hand tightened involuntarily, encircling Fei Du’s wrist hard enough to hurt a little. “They came over on purpose to see you today and behaved that way because I formally told them…”

 

Fei Du was inexplicably somewhat panicked and tried subconsciously to interrupt him. “Shixiong.”

 

“…that you’re the person I’m planning to spend a lifetime with.”

[bloodycassian]

uneasy allies part one - reader x azriel ENEMIES TO LOVERS

He’d killed his way though hell for his high lord. He’d done all Rhys had ever asked, and this was how he was repaid. 

Azriel’s shadows flared and licked the cave walls as he stared at the one he’d been forced to free. His hands were not gentle when they reached for your arm. You only held a smug smile for him, and it only served to piss him off further. He’d risked his life for this. For the likes of you. 

He was going to have words with Rhys when he got home. Possibly a yelling match. Just as soon as he locked you in the deepest cell he could find in the house of wind. 

+

Yes, the shadowsinger had come to unlock your cage. Did it mean your recklessness with the Night Court’s temper would be dampened? No. not in the slightest. So you’d made sure to keep that shit eating grin on the entire time Azriel walked you down flight after flight of stairs, enjoying the way he tensed for a fight if you so much as wiggled a finger. 

The house wasn’t anything surprising. Graceful, elegant and charming. And utterly bland. The deeper you went however, the resemblance slowly transformed into the eerie halls of the Hewen City. The faelight stretched thin, until even they were gone. And the torches adorning the walls seemed to darken with Azriel’s quiet rage seeping out from him. 

“Is my punishment to walk these damn stairs with you or are we actually going somewhere?”

He hissed, yanking you further down until you reached a landing, just off of it a sealed door. Bright wards engraved into the rock surrounding the arch. He waved a hand, as if he were annoyed he had to do it at all and entered. Your mind went blank at the sight of the room. It wasn’t matching the stairwell at all. Not those ever darkening stones leaking of moss and mountain water. Not the dim torches and cold, unforgiving steps… 

This was an apartment, almost. The dominant part of the long room was the bed, it’s gossamer pale shroud giving it a soft yet warm glow. Some kind of faelight interwoven into the lace. Just across from it was a wall sized obsidian rock. Polished clean to the point it resembles a mirror. And behind it… you nearly gasped. The stone served as a door to the private bathroom, where the shower was dripping. 

“It’s always on. Get used to the noise.” Azriel began backing away, to the door. Your surprise at the ‘cell’ he’d brought you to had distracted you long enough not to notice he’d let go of your wrists. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do here?” You demanded, searching the room for any other exit. It was foolish, but better to at least have that part covered. Of course he wouldn’t put you in a cell with an escape. From the looks of the warding it seemed not even Helion himself would be capable of getting out.

His smile turned wicked. That of a game master, knowing they’ve won. The way his lip curled up at the side, just slightly made your head rush with rage. The smug spymaster knew just what that reaction he saw was, too. An admission of defeat. 

Perhaps he’d won this round, but he would come to regret the day he’d followed the orders to save you from the sleeping city of prisoners. 

+

Rhys sighed as Azriel’s rant ended. 

“Tell me Rhys. Just what are you planning with her? To burn down Velaris? To have Helion lose any trust in us? If any of the others find out-” 

The high lord held up a hand, “Yes, I am aware.” He was beginning to tire of these lectures. From Cassian, Feyre…Mor had been the only one to seem at least somewhat open to this idea. A weapon for a weapon, and he’d end this war before it began. 

Rhysand approached his brother with outstretched hands. He knew he’d pushed his boundaries with this one, but Azriel was the only spy in the legion he could trust to take care of this particular rescue. If Nuala or Ceredwin had left a trace… Kier would have told Beron within the hour. Azriel took a hand, cautiously. As if waiting for the snake to bite from Rhys’s sleeve.

“Trust me, brother.” 

Az had heard that a few too many times for his liking. 

+

Punch after punch, Cassian grunted against his brother’s blows. They’d been out in the ring for well over two hours now, and Azriel’s shadows had still not even wavered. Neither had Azriel’s focus. Clearly, something was bothering him. And Cassian wanted to ask, was dying to see what had gotten so deep under his brother’s skin. 

But usually with thse things, Azriel was one to hold it down until he drowned it or it exploded from him. 

Cassian had known him long enough though. Had trained with him and Rhys long enough to know how to gauge just where they were at on the pissed off scale. 

He cleared his throat before asking. Azriel didn’t bat an eye; didn’t hesitate before the next perfectly aligned punch to the pads Cas held. So… Cassian let his words out between punches. “If you need a break let me know.” 

Shadows blotted out the sun. Five quick jabs into Cas’s aching hands and Az was gone. 

+

The cell was more equipped than you realized. At first it had seemed completely blank, little to no furnishings or even toiletries. But during your bath, you noticed things… appearing. Materializing slowly from the shadows, a small vanity appeared beside the sink. Along with hand towels, and a long plush rug of emerald green that complimented the faelight. 

And the bed… no, the entire bedroom had changed. The bedding had stayed the same white and cream color, but the frame was a dark oak. The rug beneath it an amethyst shade that almost matched the dark walls. A couch lay beside the bed, dark leather polished and welcoming. Beside it a bookshelf filled with different colored spines and knick knacks. Sculptures that could easily be used as weapons if needed. 

Your towel even seemed to change shades as the room adapted. Going from a bright white to a muddled gray as you circled back to the bed. 

A soft ring of seals being lifted had you whipping towards the door. Wrapping the towel around yourself tighter, even if your own nudity was the least of your worries in a place like this. 

You didn’t know what to expect. But the shadowsinger stalking towards you with brutal, precise steps was not even remotely close. You couldn’t help the smile. The cocky grin that you knew would drive him… insane. 

Only that look in his eye was just that. It was insane. Deep shadow followed him through the open door, shutting it behind him. Your smile fell. 

He did not hesitate when you backed a step at his approach. Didn’t even think twice before placing a scarred hand on your shoulder and pushing you against the wall, the cold making you gasp and drop your towel. Your hands flew to his chest, wishing you had grabbed those stupid sculptures. Wishing you could reach one and knock him in the head with it right now.

“I am going to kill you. I am going to kill you and take your body back to Kier and-”

“Kier?!” You squeaked, nails biting into his scaled armor. He was warm, sticky. As if he’d been running. 

“When I get to see his face when he sees you’re dead-” His lip curled into a feral smile. You’d never seen him like this. After the centuries of feuding even. He’d never given you that look of death. Sure you’d fought against each other beneath, but never with this much…malice. With such promise in his eyes. It was chilling to see.

“Why Kier? What does he have to do with me being here?” You asked, eyebrows scrunching. If he truly thought you were allied with the Lord of the Hewen city then he had truly lost his touch as spymaster. He was not a friend, he was your owner. Your master to serve as he saw fit.

His eyes searched your features. Looking for any hint of falseness. His shadows licked across your legs, reaching up and up and up until they encircled your neck. The heat of his hands and the cool wisps of darkness were in stark contrast to each other. Your own power welled in your palms, writhing and stretching to be released. Sweat beaded at your brow from restraining it. The wards would refuse you. Would zap you again if you tried. 

“You were in his cell. Rhys sent me to retrieve you.” He doubled down, sure that he was right about whatever theory he had. 

“Wouldn’t me being in Kier’s cell prove that I’m not an ally to him?” Did he not  know of your binding to the lord? That your allyship was based off the amount he had paid for you?

“Unless it was a trap.”

“A trap so you could do what, Azriel? Put me in a better cell and wait for the end of the world?” You let your hands go slack, no longer pressing him away. His jaw clenched. “If you think you’re right then why don't you just kill me now?” You challenged. 

He was still for a long moment, his hand tightened only once on your bare shoulder before dropping. His shadows reeled back, opening the door for him as he stalked out. 

The hysteria wore off slowly, and once his footsteps were surely gone, you slid to the floor and began crying. 

+

“We are trying to get her to work with us.” The high lord’s voice was brutally chilling. 

Az knew he deserved this. Deserved worse than this, considering he’d left you naked without even thinking of what that would seem like when Rhys checked in on you later. He’d been so furious, so blind to the facts that he’d gone with the first theory he had.

Rhys should exile him for the interference. 

But his brother had something worse in mind. Something that would put Azriel’s pride in the dirt, just like he deserved. Thankfully Cassian wasn’t here to witness his sentence. He was sure the general would have questions of his own about Az’s sanity. 

“You will apologize. You will make good with her, and put this past feud behind you.” His power rumbled the table, the pure command in his voice nearly bringing Azriel to his knees. He would obey this. He would have to, if he wanted to be trusted with this case. If he wanted to keep his city and family safe. He would. 

Even with the past between you. Even with the fights and whispers of darkness and lies that you’d exchanged with Kier. The name made his stomach churn.

“You have a week.” Rhys unrolled a map onto the large dining table. The house of wind was quiet today, making it a secure space to unveil plans. “We’ll need her.” He muttered, dragging a finger over the areas Cassian was now working.

+

Azriel was uncomfortable. Clearly so. He fiddled with something in the pocket of his trousers as he paced just inside the door of your cell. Seeing him appear at the door had you tensed and ready to fight in a moment’s notice. But he’d come with a scroll, holding it up as a peace offering before opening the door. 

“No fighting this time, spymaster?” 

He gave you a long look. One that told you just the kind of fighting he was thinking of. The ones of bloody mouths and broken fingers at the end of the night, when all your abilities were spent. Used to dodge and fade into mist to avoid his strikes. The reason he hated you so much. 

Kier had found a good place for you beneath the court of dreams. In that pit of a city, filled with vile creatures that thrived of violence and dark, impure terrors of the night. You’d been reigning champion for a long, long while when Azriel came along. A part of a contract with Kier, apparently. That was the only reason you got from your trainer, anyway. Azriel had owed the lord of the Hewen city a favor, and Kier had chosen this. Going head to head with his own shadowsinger. 

The shadows that were now surging to be released. The warding though… You began sweating with the strain of holding them in. 

“I’m sorry about last time.” He muttered, holding up the scroll again. “But we have a few questions. Rhys asked me to… request your assistance.” His lip curled when he said it, as if he were ashamed. THis was a punishment, no doubt. For breaking into your chamber and threatening you. 

You hadn’t told the high lord of the incident, but you were sure that you weren’t left alone for a moment in those first few days. Some ghosts in the walls, then. Spies even in the deep veins of the mountain, it seemed. At least they got to enjoy a show, then. 

“And what if I refuse?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t like you had another option besides helping. You were their prisoner, subject to whatever they required of you. 

“I don't think you want to do that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he laid out the long map of Prythian on the dark dining table that had appeared on the second night. He rested a knee on the bench beneath it, using a spice holder to keep the edges of the map down. He laid out a few others, all close up and more detailed areas of each area. 

“You could send me back to Kier, to the fighting rings if you wanted. Why do you need me?” 

“Because you’re the only other shadowsinger that can bring this down with me.” He handed you a another one of the detailed maps, this one larger than the others… thicker paper as well. 

“What is this, water?” You could tell half of it was the Autumn court border, but the other half… He took the paper and flipped it. 

“That is a storm. Or a wall, a barrier of some kind. We can’t tell.” His grip tightened, the paper curling under his grasp. “I’m.. I cant do anything about it alone. Rhys thinks that we could figure it out. It grows every week. We have no idea what it is.”

It came together then, what the long black shroud was over the closeups was. It wasn’t a full map, it was paintings. Following the border, on the winter court’s side was an enormous wall of shadow. A black chasm of nothingness. “Again, why would I help? You said you would kill me yesterday.”

He didn’t balk at that. Didn’t even hesitate. “Because if we beat this, you’re free. No strings attached.” 

[ragingbookdragon]

The Brother's Keeper

A Dick Grayson and Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, References to Past Abuse

Author's Note: Another story edited and re-posted! Enjoy! -Thorne

Despite having not lived at the manor for almost a decade, she still knew every hallway and room like the back of her hand, every sound was a familiar net of reassurance she could count on. The hum of the hidden wall closing behind her, the creaking of the third step from the top that they always avoided, the clicking the bats above made. She descended the steps into the cave, balancing the heavy manila files in one hand, the other holding two protein shakes, knowing her father probably hadn’t consumed nutrition in at least a few hours since he called her.

Her eyes fell on him where he sat at the Batcomputer; he’d changed out of his suit and was in a pair of joggers and a long sleeve shirt. She walked over, setting the files down beside the keyboard. “Here’s the files you asked about, dad. I alphabetized them too…and color tabbed ‘em but that’s not important.”

He glanced at her with a warm smile before nodding and turning back to the screen. “Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate you doing so.”

She leaned an arm on the back of the chair, propping her chin on his shoulder as she stared at the screen. “New antidote for Scarecrow’s toxin?”

“He’s synthesized a new formula, so I need to make a new antidote in case anyone gets gassed,” he replied, tapping at the screen until the numbers were apparently in approval with whatever he was thinking about—who knew.

She hummed, taking note of the lack of noise. “Where’re the chuckle-heads?”

He chuckled and tipped his head towards the locker room. “They put their suits away and went to change.” She nodded again and patted his shoulder before walking off in the direction of the room.

When she got there, she didn’t see them, but she could hear them harking on one another in the locker room, and she moved in that direction. She stepped into the room and took in the image of the four of her brothers standing in front of the mirrors in their underwear, pointing at each other like they were shocked to see the other.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked, unblinkingly.

Their heads shot up and they saw her; Dick greeted, “(Y/N)! What are you doing here? You usually don’t come to the manor.”

(Y/N) shrugged and stepped inside, taking a seat on one of the cool metal benches. “Dad needed some files over a few previous encounters I’ve had with galactic enemies. And me being here brings me back to my original question.” She gestured to them with a wave of a hand, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you guys in your tighty-whities?”

They snorted, and Jason turned around. “We’re comparing scars.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’. “Of course, you are.” She paused for a second and observed them. “Who’s got the gnarliest one?” Immediately, they pointed at Damian who simply motioned to his chest, and she looked at the faded scar that rested over his heart.

A frown instantly drew her lips, and Damian, being ever so vigilant, caught it and shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, sister. You tried to save me.”

She met his eyes and murmured, “I didn’t try hard enough.” She glanced at Jason, seeing the scars line his chest, her voice just as soft. “For either of you.”

Jason’s lips pulled downwards, and he walked over, sitting on the bench beside her. “The fact that you tried is good enough for us, Queenie.” He reached out, patting her head.

She sighed and shook it off, giving them a smile before she turned to Tim. “Any on you Nerd-bird?”

He grinned and turned around, running his hand along a scar that rested along the left side of his ribs. “When I fought Ra’s, he got me right here.”

(Y/N) looked at it, then leaned back, a curious look in her eye. “Other than dad, aren’t you the only person he’s called ‘detective’?” Tim gave her a firm nod and she pulled a grin, nodding at him. “Look at the Nerd-bird kicking all our asses in the game. I’m proud of you.” He gave her a sheepish smile and she turned to Dick. “We’ve all had brushes with death, but I don’t think you have a lot of noticeable ones. Which is surprising because out of all of us, you’re the most reckless.”

The others laughed while Dick glared at her, then he shrugged and showed his back, and they saw faint white lines that resembled lightning strikes. “When Wally came back out of the speed force, he accidentally shocked me. Of course, it wasn’t enough to damage me severely, but it’s here.”

They looked at him once more, then Tim tipped his head to the side. “What about you, sis? You’ve been doing this longer than we have. Do you have any good ones?” (Y/N) looked at him before pulling off her jacket and pulling off the tank top she had on. She stood up, walking to the mirror and staring into it.

She pointed to one that lined across her left breast. “Even covered by my bra, you can see how badly this one was.” She paused running a hand down it, gaze far. “When Jason died, I got into it with Joker some time after.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted to Jason’s, who’s were wide with shock. “I beat him worse than dad did, but he left me with this one before I did.”

“I…didn’t know you did that, Queenie.”

“Of course not Jason. I didn’t tell you.” (Y/N) pointed to a patch that rested on her right hip. “Took a bullet for Tim a few years ago.”

“That was when Deadshot was running around, right?”

She nodded, answering his question. “Mhm. They say he never misses. But that day, he did.” Her hand moved and she touched a curved scar that ran down her neck. “After you died, Damian, I found Talia and we had it out.”

“What happened?” he questioned curiously.

(Y/N) met his eyes in the mirror and frowned. “She and I gave each other a fair share of wounds…but I think the ones I gave her hurt more than the ones she gave me.”

“And those were?”

(Y/N) looked back at her reflection and stared at herself. “The infuriated words of a grieving sister.”

Silence enveloped the room and after a few moments, Dick pointed to a particular scar on her back that ran down the length of it. “How in the world did you get that one?”

She looked over her shoulder and reached behind her, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin that had sealed unevenly. “On my back?”

Dick snorted and nodded. “The only one on your back sis.”

She went silent for a moment then she admitted, “…Tarantula gave it to me a few years ago.”

No one noticed the way Dick froze for a split second at her admittance, and Jason asked, “Why did you and Tarantula get into it?”

Her eyes met Dick’s for a flash before she looked at Jason. “She killed an informant of mine and I got even with her.”

“Looks like she rocked your shit, Queenie.”

The others laughed, save for her and Dick, then (Y/N) muttered darkly, “I beat Catalina Flores within an inch of her life that night.” Her statement brought their laughter to a grinding halt, and she continued. “Hell, I almost killed her. But I didn’t.”

Damian crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “And why not? It would not be the first time you’ve killed someone.”

(Y/N) rolled her shoulders and moved back to her clothes, pulling on the tank top and jacket before turning to him. “Because then she would’ve gotten of scot free, and she wouldn’t have to live knowing what she’s done.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed and he followed Damian, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers. “Not to be nosey, but the way you’re talking about her almost seems like you’ve got a vendetta against her. And I mean like, me to Bruce vendetta.”

(Y/N) met his gaze before reaching down and tossing his muscle tank to him, then passing the others their shirts. “The informant she killed was a good friend of mine. There was…a lot of fury.” She paused, meeting Dick’s gaze once more. “There still is.”

The others simply stared at her before pulling on their shirts, and she looked at them. “I’m gonna get dad to go out and eat somewhere with me. You guys go on out and start working on him, would you?” The three nodded and started towards the door, (Y/N) following.

She was almost out of the door when Dick’s voice reached her quietly. “…(Y/N)?” She paused, turning around, and looking at Dick, who wore an unreadable expression; he glanced up at her, his eyes searching as he inquired, “Was there another reason that you two fought?”

“Me and Catalina?” He nodded and she shrugged. “There might’ve been. But the immediate fight was about my informant.”

Dick stared at her for a few moments before whispering, “…You didn’t start your informant network until I donned Batman.”

(Y/N) tipped her head back and leaned against the door frame, eyes narrowed as she mentally picked his words apart as only an older sister could. “What are you getting at, kid brother?”

He fell silent all at once, but when he finally found it in himself to bring his eyes to hers, she saw such pain in them. “Did you fight her…because of me?”

“No,” she immediately replied, firmly and confidently.

Dick’s eyes widened momentarily, but he looked down and nodded. “I see.”

She kept staring at him, then cleared her throat and turned, grabbing the doorknob. She pulled the door open and stopped, murmuring, “Dick.” He glanced up at her, but she faced forward and said, “I don’t know what happened to you in Blüdhaven all those years ago, and frankly, it’s none of my business.”

Dick’s heart sunk at her words, but then she looked over her shoulder, a solemn tone matching her stance and gaze as she affirmed, “But I am your sister…and I run the best damn informant network this side of the galaxy.” She paused, her words taking on an underlying tone. “There isn’t anything that happens in Gotham and our sister city that I don’t know about.”

Something passed between their eyes and she declared, “I am the family keeper. And I will always be the safety net that catches everyone when they’re in their darkest hours. When there’s something you can’t handle, I will for you.”

Her words made his eyes shine with unshed tears and she gave him a faint smile and a wink before she stepped out of the locker room, leaving him sitting alone, his thoughts drifting back to the rooftop in Blüdhaven.

***

She walked across the floor of the cave to see her father standing there, Jason and Tim hanging off his arms and Damian around his neck; he wore the expression of a tired dad and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Having fun, dad?”

He shifted slowly as to not knock one of her brothers off and glared at her. “This is your fault.”

“Guilty as charged father dearest! But it’s food time! Let’s get street tacos.”

Jason grunted at her and shook his head. “No, let’s get gyros!”

“Gyros are disgusting, Jason.”

His features contorted in something only described as an insulted disbelief and he declared, “Just because you don’t like limes and lemons, does not mean gyros are gross, (Y/N).”

“We’re not getting gyros, Jason,” she shot back.

“What about Chinese food?”

(Y/N) looked at Damian and nodded. “I’m down for tacos or Chinese.”

“Can we stop and get some shawarma?”

“Tim, which part of tacos or Chinese sounded like shawarma to you? It’s one or the other. Take your pick.”

“But last night was pizza night! And if I eat Chinese or tacos, I’m going to eat more carbs than I need!”

“You do need more carbs, twig-boy.”

“That was mean, sis.”

“Truthful. I mean how have you not been snapped in half yet? You look like a toothpick.”

The others laughed at her comments, and Bruce looked at her. “Where’s Dick?”

(Y/N) tipped her head back to the lockers. “Still changing.” She motioned to the stairs. “You guys go ahead. I’ll wait on Dickie.” They nodded, and she watched her father trudge past with her three brothers hanging off him.

A smile crossed her lips and a few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her. “Where’d everybody go?”

She turned around and nodded to the stairs. “Told them to go ahead and get ready.” (Y/N) had barely made it up the first ten steps when she felt Dick stop beside her, and she glanced back at him. “Dick? You good?”

He gazed up at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She gave him a knowing look and said, “I didn’t do anything, Dick.”

“You did.”

“Agree to disagree.” They stared at each other for a second then she tipped her head to the stairs. “Let’s go get some food, kid brother.”

He nodded and started climbing the steps beside her. “I don’t tell you enough, sis…but I love you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and mumbled, “God, you are so sentimental.”

“It’s one of my perks.”

“More like a curse…but yeah…it is.” She paused and he stopped beside her, and she reached over, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you too, little brother.” His arms wound around her, and they shared a moment before she patted his back. “Alright. Let go. I’m done being overly affectionate.”

He laughed, letting her go and she walked up ahead of him. He kept his eyes trained to her back, and he remembered something she once told him.

The two of them walked silently down the twisting and turning garden path, following the little white concrete plates that made the trail. Dick looked up from his hands, calling out to the older girl in front of him. “(Y/N)?”

She hummed in response but didn’t look at him. “What is it, Dickie?”

“Why won’t you let me walk beside you?”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “Because I’m protecting you.”

His head tipped to the side and he stopped walking. “But were at the manor?”

“And something could always happen. I’m in the front, so that if something comes, I can protect you while you run.” She turned around and looked at him. “One day you’ll be old enough to walk beside me instead of behind me.”

Dick’s eyes widened and he jumped excitedly. “When! When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind!”

(Y/N) giggled at her little brother and reached out, holding his shoulders to stop him from jumping up and down. “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore…you can walk beside me.”

“When will that be?”

(Y/N) pulled her hands away and spun back around, continuing her walk. “When it happens…you’ll know.” It was all the answer she gave the young boy, but he continued following her, still behind.

Dick blinked, the memory flashing away as fast as it had come, and he saw her back once more; he called out to her. “When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind?”

(Y/N) halted, mid-step and she glanced over her shoulder, a faint smile playing her lips as she replied, “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore, you can walk beside me.”

“And when will that be?”

She huffed a laugh chuckled at him before she turned back around, though she paused just as she was about to cross the threshold and peered back at him. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answer to that one, sis.”

(Y/N) shrugged and turned back around, declaring, “Then I guess you still need me to protect you.”

Dick watched her disappear into the manor, listening as she got into the argument that her brothers were bickering about with each other, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah…I guess I still do.”

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vii.

summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 3.4k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.

Truth be told, you didn’t remember.

“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.

“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.

Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.

You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.

“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.

Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.

Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.

He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.

Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.

You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.

Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.

You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.

There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.

You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.

Neither could Natasha.

You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.

You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.

You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.

You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.

You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.

The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.

He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.

You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.

Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.

You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.

Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.

In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.

You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.

But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.

Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.

You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.

You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.

You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.

You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.

A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.

You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.

But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.

You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.

You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.

“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.

His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand down to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.

[that1girloverthere]

Teaching the Stiff 

*warning* contains LOTS of smut

"Okay so what do you want to do?" He asks, eyes meeting mine in the hazy light of the sunset. His curtains open to the otherwise dark room, his fourth floor view one to envy.

A nervous laugh falls from my lips, my eyes falling to his bare chest. "I don't know, I've never done anything like this before."

"Well that much is obvious," he smirks. As I start to snap back at him his hand finds it's way to my hip, pulling me forward onto his lap. The satin fabric of his sheets brush my skin through the rips in my jeans.

"How do you feel about this?" He asks me, his voice lowered now that I'm pressed against him. My legs find their place on either side of his, my hands dangle at my sides.

Through a shaky breath I reply, "I like it."

He nods, that smirk still on his lips. "You can touch me, you know?" I stare down at my floating hands, then his chest. I let them find their way to his body, the tips of my fingers entwining in his patch of chest hair, the skin underneath is warm.

"That's better." He replies.

"Tell me what to do." My hands shake slightly as I speak, needing some kind of instruction.

"Ah, ah, ah. This was your idea, remember? You get to make the calls here."

My breath shakes in my chest, my eyes stuck on the thick black blocks of tattoo that rise up his neck.

"Okay." I get out, the word rushed and in no way as confident as I would like it to sound.

My hand moves with a mind of its own, my fingertips brushing over the slight scruff that decorates his jaw. I let my eyes meet his and I'm granted a wave of heat over my body at the look he gives me. His pupils have overtaken the normally stark grey irises, leaving him to stare at me like a predator does to prey. My fingers' movements pause; concern briefly flashes across his features.

"You good?"

God, even his voice has become darker.

"Yeah, yeah..." I wobble through the sentence. "Well, no." His hands leave my waist with the release of that single word, making a cold chill run up my back at the loss of warmth.

"Wait," I use my hands to guide his back to their original place, making eye contact yet again. "I still want to do this, I just really need some instruction here."

The cocky grin on his face nearly makes me lose it as he speaks, "Alright, but tell me to stop if it gets too much for you."

Before I can reply his lips are connected to mine, all brain process lost to his movements. His hands run over my hips, one settling in my back pocket, the other at my waistline. A gentle push has me meeting his lap fully, making my hips buck instinctively.

A sigh comes from his lips and my cheeks are set aflame.

He bites my bottom lip lightly, making me gasp and granting him full access to my mouth. His tongue is warm as it slides around my mouth making me pout when he pulls away.

"Why did you-" I'm cut off when his lips touch my neck. They work their way down, gently nipping and licking as he goes.

Goosebumps follow the path his hands make beneath my shirt, getting closer and closer to my peaked nipples all while his lips never leave my neck and jaw. He cups me in his palm, a finger passing over the bud, making me moan.

"No bra, huh?" He taunts, his voice husky.

"Shut up." I manage to gasp out.

His hands continue along their path, his thumb continuing to tease me. My head tilts back and my eyes shut slightly, my breath coming out in sighs.

Before I know what I'm doing I push myself against him, rocking back and forth, searching for any kind of friction.

He groans and my stomach flips.

His fingers grasp the bottom of my shirt, "Off." I let him take it over my head, arms raised.

For a moment he sits there, staring at me and I can't help but feel the urge to cover up, my hands leaving his body to shield myself from his view.

He shakes his head, "Don't, you look good."

Placing my hands back on his chest for me, he leans in slowly, letting his lips gently glide over my neck. He makes his way down to my breasts, nipping and sucking at the raised flesh. A moan escapes me at his ministrations. My back arches in response.

Before I realize what's happening i'm being flipped onto my back, Eric laying over me.

His eyes lock on mine for a moment and the sheer lust in the stare almost breaks me. His lips trail down my body, occasionally biting at the sensitive skin, only to run a soothing tongue over the area before continuing.

My hands grip the sheets above my head, holding me to reality.

"Lift your legs up," his voice is so gravelly it shocks me but I do as he says, my hips rising as the jeans I didn't even realize were unbuttoned are slid from my body. I lay there, naked besides the small piece of fabric I somehow call underwear. His gaze makes me miss the feeling of his lips on my breasts.

"What are you waiting for?" I mean to taunt, the infliction is all off however thanks to a new rasp in my voice I've never heard before.

He lets out a small chuckle. "Easy there, Stiff or I might start to think you're a Dauntless."

I raise myself onto my elbows, staring forward to the man seated between my legs.

"I am Dauntless." I say but it doesn't seem to convince him.

He raises his eyebrows as if referencing the clear "Stiff" behavior I had moments before. How this entire time I've yet to do more than lay there and moan.

Fine, two can play at that game.

I fully stand from the bed, and turn to face him. Trying my best to ignore my nakedness, I come close to his face, placing hands on his shoulders.

"Lay down." I command, not sure how I manage to pull off the air of confidence.

He seems surprised but does as I say, moving further onto the bed, his head resting at the headboard.

I trail my hands down his body, starting at his neck. Leaning forward I let my tongue follow the path my hand takes, tracing over his skin.

A sigh vaguely resembling my name comes from his lips and it only spurs me on.

His skin tastes slightly salty and I can't get enough. Without thinking I let my hand travel past his navel, my fingers sweeping over his waistband. I run my nails gently over the exposed skin, making his hips buck. I smirk in satisfaction.

"Quit playing." He groans, eyes set intensely on mine.

"Be patient." I retort, not giving him time to snap at me again as I let my hand fully dip beneath his sweatpants and boxers. The skin I'm met with is softer than any other on his body and I can't stop myself from gliding my fingertips over it multiple times.

I wrap my hand around his length, new to the experience but trying to remember the advice I was given by my friends through the years. Twisting my wrist slightly with each rise and fall, I sit in awe at the sounds that come from Eric's mouth.

Just as I feel his body tensing beneath my hand, I let go. Attempting to make quick work, I move to pull off his remaining clothing but find it impossible with a his unrelenting weight bearing down on one side of it.

I give him a look at my predicament and he moves to rise from the bed, playfully pinching my exposed nipple in the process. He chuckles at my uncontrollable moan.

I watch as he stands in front of me, finding myself on my knees before him, a faint scratch of fabric against my shins. His eyes stare down at me as he slowly removes his last articles of clothing, his entire being nude for me to observe. Its impressive, though I'd be damned before I admit that to him.

"Well?" He taunts, seeing as though I'm at a loss for words.

His cock stands at attention directly in front of my face, larger than I ever realized it was. Gripping him in my hand again, I take my time deciding to taste him. My tongue darting out to lick from his base to the tip, letting my entire mouth encircle him when I reach the end.

His hips buck slightly, a hand coming down to grip the back of my head, tangling in my hair. A moan escapes him and it shoots right to my core, burning me up.

Just as I'm about to take him fully, he pulls my head away from him, a pop sounding at the release of my lips from him. Faster than I though was possible, I'm being pushed onto my back, hands tearing at my last scrap of clothing, my underwear being thrown off to the side.

"My turn," he practically growls. I stare at him, body practically pulsating with need and lust. His callused hands grips my knees, making my legs bend and then spread, exposing myself to him fully. He gives my body a long, hungered look before leaning down. He starts at my thighs, kissing and biting them to the point that I feel like I could combust.

"Quit playing," I say, a mirror to what he said moments ago. I feel more than see his smirk as he at last stops the assault, and begins a new one. When his tongue touches me my eyes roll into the back of my head, a moan that just might be his name rasping out of me. In all my years I never knew it could feel this good.

He goes to work on me, lips sucking at my clit, tongue flicking against it. My back arches and my hands search for something, anything, to grab on to. One finds its way into his hair, the other the sheets beneath us.

"Fuck Eric, don't stop," I gasp. My body starts to tense and I know what's coming.

Eric seems to too, as he replaces his mouth with his hand, moving against me in ways I know I'll crave for the rest of my life. His eyes meet mine while he sucks on the skin around my sensitive area. I can barely see him through the building haze.

"That's it," he says, voice deep and powerful, the voice of a leader. "Cum for me like a good girl."

And with that, I do.

My vision falters and if I didn't know any better I would dare to say I passed out for a moment. My legs shake in satisfaction and I can't help but stare in awe at the man that is still between my legs.

"Come here," I nearly growl. With a hand on his jaw I taste myself on his lips, letting my fingers drift around his torso. He groans as I reach the deep V his muscles make at his waist.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, hand reaching back down to rub against my folds, making my hips buck uncontrollably.

I'm nodding long before I can gather enough breath to answer.

"Yes," I plead. "Please, Eric."

He kisses me again, softer than before, but still with a hunger I didn't think was possible. I feel him shift against me and where his fingers - and mouth - were moments earlier the pressure of his head rests. A hand holding himself, I watch as he guides his dick to rub my clit. A similar heat builds inside of me again and I let out a sigh.

"You like that?" He questions.

I'm about to reply when his thumb replaces his member and I sense a deep pressure begin. With a gentleness I didn't know the feared leader could have, he enters me, leaving me feeling full beyond thought.

His hips begin to move, slow and deliberate, thumb moving in time.

"Oh, God." I gasp, hips pushing to meet his. A different kind of pleasure takes over and I fade in and out of reality for a moment.

"Such a dirt girl," He comments. He thrusts into me, hand reaching up to pinch my peaked nipple. "No wonder you left Abnegation. Imagine what they would think of you now, being a little slut for me."

My cheeks burn with his words but a sense of euphoria rushes through me at his degradation and praise.

He's mid movement when he flips us over, never disconnecting from me. I sit above him, his back fully against the bed, my knees digging into the sheets. He grips the back of my neck, pulling my hair slightly as he forces me down to his level, his eyes on mine.

"Now, ride me." He releases his grip on me, but quickly relocates it on my hips. I rise from my position, letting myself bounce on his cock, hearing the sounds our bodies make as they slaps together.

My hand drifts to his throat, simply resting there, feeling the fast pulse beneath the skin. I let my back arch, knowing full well that my breasts are directly over his face and feeling empowered by it.

My thrusts quickly get erratic and I can feel him begin to tense beneath me.

"I'm getting close," I practically moan, my legs shaking again. With that, his hand finds its way back to my clit, his callused fingers teasing the bundle of nerves.

"Let go," He says, out of breath. His skin glistens with sweat, his thighs twitching under me.

"Eric... Eric... fuck." I topple over the edge, shouting his name loud enough that all of Chicago can hear. My body becomes limp but he holds me up with his hands, grabbing at my ass as he thrusts into me with newfound speed.

I listen, dazed and over stimulated, as he groans and echoes my name back to me.

Slowly, he slips out of me, leaving me shivering and feeling empty. I lay on his chest, not having the bodily ability to move myself just yet.

"How was it?" He asks, wiping my sweat slicked hair from my face, kissing my forehead.

"Amazing."

[secondhand-trash]

If I Only Knew Your Name

A/N: so this was an idea I got while mindlessly picking songs to listen to on Spotify’s Indie rock playlist and came across this one song that just made me want to write something about it hehe accidentally put this aside for a whole month but I’m so glad that it’s here now lmao I had a lot of fun writing this

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: After a drunken night of passion, Atsumu had nothing he could find you with, not even your name. So he took the matter into his own hands and tried to search for you using the power of the internet.

Warning: drunken one night stand, suggestive descriptions, Atsumu is an embarrassment and I sure hope you cringe while you read it as much as I did when I was writing it

Word count: 9453

The song:

Young Love (feat. Laura Marling)//Mystery Jets, Laura Merling

-

One night of love

Nothing more nothing less

One night of love

Had left my heart in a mess

-

You woke up with a sharp pain spiking down your back, in a room you were sure you had never been to, on a bed that wasn’t yours.

Your head was heavy and every cell in your body screaming that you just wanted to fall asleep again when you stirred awake. You would have, had it not been the fact that you were not in your own room slowly started to settle in. There was a brief moment of blankness in your mind as you took in your surroundings. The room was still dim, the sun barely shining through the windows that were half covered by the shades. The domestic messiness crossed out the possibility that you were in a hotel room or some odd space behind the club you clearly remembered being at last night. 

You did not move as your eyes glanced around the space. Trophies and picture frames were lining up on the shelf at the corner, all of names and faces you couldn’t match up with any of the ones that you remembered. The linen covers you were sitting under was sturdy on your skin, a dark red on top of brown sheets that you would have never bought for your mattress. The scent of the fabric was foreign to you, making your morning state of mind more and more alarmed at the amount of information you were trying to take in. You had to admit that it was very soft on the skin, not the slightest bit uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare arm when the duvet fell off of your body as you sat up.

You felt a moment of frantic terror at the registration of your own bareness, with your legs feeling terribly cramped, waking up on a bed that you did not remember getting into.

Everything clicked when you stiffly turned to your side, and found someone laying next to you.

The broad back facing your side had you clutching the sheets up to cover your torso that now felt chilly with the lack of layers. The man, whose name you did not think you know and what you had done with him last night you could not remember but was certainly able to guess, was still soundly in his sleep. Now that you were painstakingly unable to ignore his presence, you picked up on the soft snores that lingered in the air, making your legs that were rubbing against each other under what you could only assume to be his spreads tense up as the picture of what happened to get you right where you were slowly got clear. 

You would prefer not to think about it in detail, albeit the fact that it getting vivid in your mind sent a trail of heat from your core right onto your face and burning out the fuse in your head.

There was a slither of shame and guilt as you found yourself staring hazily at the man, his sculpted back spasming with each breath. Your hand gripping at the sheets in front of your chest only served to pull it further down his torso, revealing the dip at his waist and his arms that curled tighter against his body with a shiver. Blonde hair sprawled out messily on the pillow, and you felt chills creeping up your spine at the recoil of your fingers fisting those locks and brushing against the fuzzy patch of his undercut as he hovered above you.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Your skin burnt up at the lingering feeling of a firm grip on your legs, the warm trail of his lips down your neck, and the unmistakable dullness between your thighs.

The heat settled into the pit of your stomach as a weight, twisting your guts until it resembled what felt like a bitter mix of shame and guilt.

Fuck, you slept with an absolute stranger last night.

You bite back a groan, slamming your hands against your face before letting them run down in a weak attempt to clear your head.

This was why you never go to clubs anymore.

The jolt of your body as you sat up straight pushed the sheets off of you and you winced at the soft whimper from the person next to you at the sudden movement. Your naked state was simply uncomfortable, not feeling like you were in your own skin at all as ironic as this was. You couldn’t help but hug your arms around your frame as you frantically looked around to see where your clothes and belongings were, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw the clothes you wore last night littering across the floor in all its messy glory. 

Your clothes were all wrinkled up from the careless placement, a clear display of the passion and impulse when they were being taken off. Your hands were the same kind of frantic as you rushed to put everything back on, not caring about tugging them in properly or the fact that you did not even look into a mirror at all to see if you were at least presentable. 

You did not hear the groan from the man that tossed over to his side on the bed as you slipped out of the bedroom, careful in softening your steps as you let the door clicked and darting your eyes around to see where the rest of your things were.

If you remembered correctly from the weak reconstruction of what happened last night, then your clutch should be somewhere near the door.

The giggle that slipped past your lips as he swung the door shut turned into a laugh when he latched onto you immediately. You could taste the hint of vodka lingering on his lips, bundling up your senses together with the warm breaths against your neck when he trailed down. It was like floating on a cloud, the way you latched yourself on this handsome man and he seemed to be unable to get enough of you. You barely heard the thump of what you were holding in your hand landing on the floor as your limbs went weak, swinging your arms around his broad shoulders when your mouth fell agape as he sucked down on the soft spot right on your neck.

It was right where you left it last night, the one and only clutch that you felt was suitable for you to bring to a club. There was a hint of hesitation as you rushed to pick it up, holding it in your hand when you thought of the person who you had left on the bed by himself.

What do people do after a one night stand? Talk? Have breakfast together? Or in your case, ask them for their name because you did not remember one thing that happened before you stepped into these doors?

Dear god, no.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of, and rushed out of the door without even looking back.

It wasn’t until you were far away from the apartment building you ran out of, the weight of your body shifting from leg to leg as you waited for the train to slowly drive into the station that something did not feel right to you. Your fingers fidgeted in reflex as you shoved yourself past the small gap between each person stuffed into the cart, a bad habit you had formed as a kid when you were nervous.

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when the lack of metal brushing against the tip of your finger finally clicked in your head.

You cussed under your breath, knowing exactly where the thin, gold band must be.

-

Miya Atsumu woke up with a pounding headache, in his own apartment that he forgot how he got back to, on his bed that somehow felt emptier than usual.

At first, all he could focus on was the clear hungover that he was suffering from. His tongue felt dry and he scrunched his face up at the bitterness as he tried to gulp. The half-drawn curtains were not doing it in shielding the sun that already came out, making him squeeze his eyes tight and blinked a few times before finally adjusting to the brightness. Stretching out on the bed, Atsumu whined at the soreness pulling at his muscles, feeling his joints pop as he arched his back and sprawled over to the other side of the bed.

He froze in place, arms still spread over his head and legs bundling up the sheets, before jolting up in one rapid movement only to wince at the horrible spinning in his head at the rush of blood up to his already heavy head.

Yet, dizziness and all that, Atsumu was sure that the feeling of someone being here with him last night definitely wasn’t just a drunkness induced illusion.

He groaned at the untimely pang of pain that pulsed at his temple, ruffling his hands through the locks of his hair that was tangled up from him tossing around the bed. The slight pull at his scalp at his impatient detangling method made him hiss, but it also served to get his wires just a little more sorted out than before. 

First things first, he was very naked and combining that with the certainty that he must have had someone over, it wasn’t very hard for him to connect the dots. He ran his palm over the ruffled sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles and searched if there was still any hint of warmth left on the fabric. He cursed under his breath when nothing else but coolness met his skin, scolding himself for acting like a fool over some one night stand that did not even wait until he woke up to leave.

There was a lump at the back of his throat as he stayed there, holding onto the hovering position he took on the bed without a single thought.

He snapped out of it when he realised that he was in his own space, just staying still and letting time passed without doing anything. Atsumu had a strong feeling that if he stayed in bed any longer then he would just be miserable for the rest of the day and he really couldn’t afford it if he couldn’t manage to get over himself soon enough. 

For all that it was, there was no bigger asset to his career than this very body that he felt like trash in right now, and god knows how much trouble he would get if people learnt that he let his performance slip because he couldn’t bounce back after a drunken hookup.

His steps were floaty as he climbed off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom and harshly gripping at the faucet. The water streamed out as a strong current and he splashed it against his face in a sadistic force. The coldness was stinging his skin, with no help from the way he rubbed his hands down his face and back up his chin.

He looked terrible, Atsumu thought to himself when he stared at the reflection in front of him. His eyelids were pulled taut with his hand, cheeks squished under his palm before he pulled away meanly. Bloodshot eyes made him wince and his face was so dropsy it looked like he had cried himself to sleep.

A loud slap echoed in the empty bathroom when he clasped his face a bit too hard in a desperate attempt to clear his head. He whined, rubbing the area that went numb and then heated up. There was a slight flush around the area he had slapped down, but he was feeling more in touch with reality afterwards.

Alright, so what happened last night?

It would be a lie if Miya Atsumu said he had never had one night stands. He would argue that he never go out with the intention for one, but sometimes one thing leads to another and it just happens. Some were good, some not really, some he hadn’t really think of until now when he was desperately thinking of what it was that led him to now. 

He hadn’t wakened up with a hungover this bad in a long while. Being in a profession that demands that much of your physiques meant that there was not much room for the more self-destructive type of letting loose. It was strange, Atsumu pinched the center of his brows as one hand on the kitchen counter held his body still, he didn’t quite remember the deeds of what was happened once the door to his room was closed last night.

Wow, he looked up with eyes widened and huffed at no one, that was such a douchebag thing to say.

He, however, remembered the person that stumbled through the door with him in shocking vividness to even his surprise.

He would have to pretend that the lack of follow up did not send a blow to his ego, reassuring himself that there was no way it was because he behaved terribly that the person had to run off before he even woke up. He was bitter about the fact that they had left without leaving even a note, something he had no idea he cared about at all until this very moment when the silence of his home became just short of irritating in his pounding head. 

Could have at least said ‘I had fun last night but I gotta go’.

Atsumu rubbed his temple, slowly rotating his arms backwards to get rid of that dull cramp.

Or maybe leave their number somewhere too.

He paused in his track, standing awkwardly in the middle of his tiny living room.

Did he want their number?

He shook his head violently to rid of the meaningless thought, an act he would immediately regret when he remembered that he was having a hungover as the dizziness made him stumble on his feet. 

A crisp clang after he took a fumbled step to steady himself quieted all of the voices in his head. That was not a sound that aligned with what his brain expected from his worn-out room slippers kicking against the wooden floor. Atsumu held his head as the rang of what sounded like something metallic registered itself in his mind, blinking at the empty space right in front of his feet.

His eyes darted around the floor, searching for whatever it was he must have stepped on to make that sound. Atsumu was ready to settle for the possibility that he was starting to hear things when a quick flash of light from the corner caught his attention. He walked towards where it was, and slowly crouched down.

It was a ring, a very tiny one. It looked rather ridiculous being held between his calloused fingers, the thin golden band arching off the afternoon light that had shined on it. A very simple design with no gems or carvings along the surface, something very much so the opposite to his taste. He knew it was not his, from the size to the tone to the lack of anything all over its rim.

And then he remembered the first time he saw the ring, on someone else’s finger, just last night.

-

Atsumu would not classify himself as a party animal, despite the common speculation shared by people who knew him but not well enough. He could deal with house parties just fine, but clubbing had never been much of his thing ever since he woke up outside the back of a night club once with the worst ring in his ear he had ever experienced. 

If it wasn’t part of his job, he would much rather be anywhere else than this overly opulent club that his team’s sponsor had booked up for their event. But business was business, and if he wanted to keep having his own room in away games then this was the price he had to pay.

Was it a nice club? He couldn’t say, but it sure was an expensive one if he was to make a guess based on the decor. So expensive that it was a bit tacky, if he dares to say. It was like the owner wanted to remind you that this was high-end and decadent. Imagine what you would see in a basic mansion on a real estate agent’s website, then dim it up and add many hi-fis, what you would result with was likely close if not identical to the space he was in. It was loud and hard to escape from, his ear pounding together with the baseline every time it blasted through He would never quite understand rich people, he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink and scrunched his eyebrows together. He forced down the urge to poke his tongue out at the obvious taste of syrup, trying to pass it off with a cough into his fist as he plopped down on the barstool. 

“How’s your drink?”

The smooth voice reaching into his ear was mismatched to the booming club he was in. Atsumu turned his stool to the side with a push with the heel of his uncomfortable leather shoes and was met with an entertained gaze. You sat with both feet on the footrest of the stool, a posture that seemed rather childish for the night club bar you sat in front of. With your bare forearms lazily placed at the edge of the bar table, your finger tapped casually against the rim of your cocktail glass, the pink liquid inside looking like it was glowing under the neon lights. He could not map out your features too clearly but your head tilted as you looked at him through narrowed eyes, a glimmer behind your lashes from the many lights that hung above your head. 

Miya Atsumu was an adult now and in his adult mind, he knew that the proper answer he should give to a stranger asking about the sugary mixture he just poured down his throat was that it tasted decent, expensive even, like the club he was sitting in now.

“It’s kinda shit,” he felt a strange swell in his chest when you let out an unfiltered snort at his answer, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest as he licked his lips, “yours?”

You lifted up the glass and necked down the rest of the coloured water, smacking your lips as the sweetness spread in your mouth. “Like the type of stuff they mark up and sell to high schoolers who couldn’t buy real alcohol.”

The bartender at the side threw you two a sharp look and you two sat up straighter, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He supposed you had to be tipsy at the very least and probably so was he, what sober person giggled like a child over trash talking overpriced liquor at a bar? “Why are you here at this trashy place?” you asked, now resting your chin on your palm with your elbow propping you up.

You did not know him, Atsumu was almost delighted by the fact that you likely just struck a conversation with him because he was another bored person trying to escape to the sidelines of dancing bodies just like you with no other intentions. “Got an invite and couldn’t say no because of work reasons,” he wasn’t exactly lying, he just didn’t say that he was supposed to be one of the main guests of this function.

“Ooo...” you let out a soft whistle, tilting your upper body forward him, “are you a big shot?”

He smirked.

Yes. “Not entirely.”

“Hm...” you sat back, your smile pursed as you tapped your finger on the table, “not denying it, huh?”

The vibration of your hum sent shivers to his spine and he blamed it on the very spiked drink he just gulped down. Atsumu ran his hand through his hair, a move he discovered in his teenage years that could let him smoothly fixed his hair while also flexing his arm. “I try to stay humble,” he replied, earning him a playful eye roll from you.

The melting ice clinked in the glass when he held it up against his lips, still looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he tilted it and let the pungent liquid run down his throat. 

You nodded, returning to the laid back posture you kept before he sat down next to you at the dim corner of the bar table when you realised he wasn’t going to say more. “Fair enough,” you pretended to sound disappointed, holding your hand out in front of you to swiftly turn your attention away.

“You?”

“Got dragged here by a friend who works for the organiser,” you huffed, “don’t even know anyone here besides from them.”

Atsumu felt the warm buzz of the liquor spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, settling onto his face as a tipsy fever. He did not look away from you and he was sure it was exactly what you wanted, mindlessly toying with your hand as you faced away from him. Your shoulders pulled back as you slid the thin ring off your index finger smoothly with your thumb, twisting it with the tips of your fingers before letting it fell down another one, all while pushing your hips back against the stool as you crossed your legs.

“Nice ring,” he tipped his chin slightly.

“Oh, this one,” you held your hand out to him, spreading your fingers apart to show him. You pulled back just slightly when he reached out, grinning teasingly at him when he quirked his brow up.

“my grandma gave it to me before she passed away,” you sighed, caressing the band that sat on your finger dreamily, “shoved it into my hand on her death bed and made me swore to never lose it, said it was given to her by her first love when she was a girl.”

“Oh,” Atsumu let out a soft gasp, “oh wow, I-”

He rolled his eyes when you broke out into laughter, the longing expression all gone from your face as you let out a hiccup through your giggling. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He clicked his tongue, letting out a huff, “Lying isn’t good.”

“Neither is talking to a stranger at a club but I’m still here,” you wet your lips as you flashed a childish smirk, showing him your hand again. He was certain that he was drunk now, because there was no other way he could excuse the pounding in his chest when you didn’t pull away this time as he reached out to hold your hand for a better look.

“I got this as a pack of 5 for 800 yen online,” you said proudly, “quite the deal, if you ask me.”

He hummed in approval, letting out a shaky breath when you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip, the tip of your finger ticking the center of his palm before you lifted it away. It sent electricity trickling down his spine, the feeling of your touch lingering on his skin even as you were steps away from him again, once again staring at him with a smile tugging on your face like you were waiting for his move.

Was it a challenge or was it an invite? Either way, he was ready to take on whatever you were offering.

“You still owe me some sort of compensation for toying with my poor heart like that,” he mused, mimicking the way you leaned towards him from before.

You sniggered, “And what do you want from a poor stranger like me?”

The music playing through the speakers stopped temporarily and for a moment, the projected light illuminated his figure briefly before moving to another spot. You had not taken a good look at him until now, knowing full well that the attractiveness of anyone under the pink, dim glow of the bar was not to be trusted.

But he was really, really good-looking, even when you could actually see his face properly. 

The next song started playing and the party people on the dance floor cheered. The loudness that returned made your head ache and you scrunched your nose in annoyance as the dj yelled into the mic. Atsumu threw his head back as the music returned, tapping his finger against his jaw.

“How about,” he said, knowing that you and he were likely to be on the same page, “you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink somewhere where the drinks aren’t shit?”

You chuckled at his unfiltered suggestion, your laughter slurring into a hum as you grabbed your clutch by the side of the bar. “I can make up to you,” you asked as you stood up, tilting your head to your side, “by letting you pay for me?” 

He nodded, smoothing out his shirt as he got up from his stool too. 

You shrugged, pressing your palm to your face to let the coldness of your hand calm down the heat on your face as you grinned.

“Take me somewhere nice then, big shot.”

Even through his tipsy haze, Atsumu was sure that this was the most irrational thing he had done in a while but as you took his arm while he pulled you through the crowd and out in the open after being stuck in the same space with many drunk and sweaty bodies afterwards, he was quite certain that he couldn’t care less whether this was stupid or not.

If he had any regrets about it, he would just blame it on the alcohol.

-

Now that he was staring at a fake gold ring you got as a pack of 5 for not even a thousand yen, Atsumu could only tear at his own hair in regret when he realised that he didn’t ask for your name or contact at any point during which you went from the first bar to one he actually liked, then to many other because there was no way he would get this drunk after just two drinks, and finally stumbled through the door of his own house, before you disappeared as if you had never been there at all.

It was all the alcohol’s fault, fuck alcohol.

It was not his first time taking a near-stranger home and even though he wouldn’t want to say it out loud to people, he also couldn’t guarantee that this was the last time either. He should just forget about it and move on with his day, maybe make some tea, maybe get some soup to cure this heaviness in his head so he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself the way he really should. After all, there was really nothing he could do about it since he didn’t know anything about you other than what you looked like and that you wore cheap jewelry. But it left a strange tightness in his chest when he toyed with the gold ring in his hand, knowing full well that drunk or not he did enjoy his time with you even before it really got to the fun fun part.

He really should have just asked for your name like a normal person instead of trying to look cool and mysterious the moment you talked to him at the bar.

Miya Atsumu let out a sigh no one was there to hear as he slowly accepted the fact that not only was he hungover, he was also hung up, and put the only evidence he had of you ever being there with him into the key tray by his door.

He would figure out what to do with it later but for now, he was starving. 

So Atsumu set off for the only one place he could think of that couldn’t kick him out no matter how annoying of a customer he was.

“Say, Samu...” 

Miya Osamu sighed, putting the plate he was drying at the side and let the damped towel fell from his hand onto the side of the sink. His twin had finished his food a long while ago yet he was refusing to leave, planting his face down at his counter like a pile of mush as he took up the precious space of Onigiri Miya’s bar seat. Osamu liked to think that he was a supportive brother , by all means. He fed Atsumu, listened to his childish whines and didn’t kick him out when he started getting so loud that the other patrons sent him a worried glance. Maybe he should have pretended that he was about to head out for errands when he saw his twin marching in, slumping down on the stool like he owned the place (Miya Atsumu claimed that he had unlimited access by relation, Miya Osamu denied it with his life and told all his employees to just kick his twin out if he said that bullshit to them).

He was so nice, Osamu thought to himself, he was far too nice.

“What is it?” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he heard Atsumu’s muffled voice.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone without knowing their name?”

Oh god, what was he up to again?

“Depends,” Osamu snorted, picking his towel again when he realised that it was nothing too serious that he should stop his work to listen to, “if it happens to someone else, then sure, maybe, everything is possible. But if you're telling me that you think you’re in love with someone you don’t know,” he paused, before breaking into a wide grin, “I think I might laugh.”

“Hey!” Atsumu yelled, his fist slamming on the counter as he snapped his head up. The bang caught the attention of several other customers at the shop and Osamu sent them an apologetic bow before glaring at Atsumu who was rubbing his aching hand for slapping it against the wooden surface. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“Alright then,” Osamu nodded absent-mindedly, "so what are you going to do about it?”

Atsumu’s raised hand froze in the air before he slowly, robotically put it down, down, down until it was back on the counter together with the rest of his upper body.

Osamu’s nodding got firmer now, letting out yet another snigger, “Thought so.”

Atsumu let out a groan, deflating onto the counter more and more with each whine. He looked sad and pathetic, even more so than he usually was and even Osamu who was born immune to whatever teary rent he put on was starting to get concerned.

“Was the sex really that good?”

“it is not about the sex,” Atsumu mumbled, leaning his chin on top of his folded arms as he sighed, “I just... think we had a connection.”

Osamu laughed, the ugly kind, and earned himself a sharp glare. “A connection, huh?” he giggled, “you’re down bad.”

“It’s not funny...”

Hiccuping as he tried to calm himself down, Osamu placed a hand onto the kitchen counter to steady himself as his body vibrated. 

“I still think you’re overreacting,” Osamu took in a deep breath, catching up after finally regaining his posture, “besides, you’re technically a public figure, right? If you can’t find them, why don’t you just try and get them to find you instead?”

Atsumu’s hiss about how he wasn’t overreacting stuck at the back of his throat when paused and thought of what Osamu had suggested.

“Huh,” he sat up a little straighter, eyes rolling inside of their sockets as he pondered, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”

"Of course it’s not,” Osamu huffed, “I’m the smart twin.”

“What did you just-”

Osamu ignored Atsumu’s glare, turning around to resume his work now that he seemed to have fulfilled his responsibility as a brilliant, amazing brother. He gave it a month, no, two weeks max before his brother forgot all about this person and moved on as if Atsumu had never shown up in front of his door with puffy eyes and a love-sick expression. 

Oh, he just couldn’t wait to hear all the excuses and denial when he brought it up again the next time they get into a petty argument.

-

It was a terrible idea.

The Inarizaki volleyball alumni group chat exploded when the first post of what would be many to come was published for the world to see. Suna Rintarou, always so quick with capturing his old teammates embarrassing moments, kicked Atsumu out before he sent out links, screenshots, and pinged every single member of the group who did not read his message immediately. Miya Osamu refused to speak up about it, keep denying that he knew anything about it.

“I do not know this person,” his fingers hurt from how fast he was typing, not even bothering to correct the typos in his message before hitting send to clear his name, “I have no idea what has gotten into him but I’m not responsible for it.”

He was, in fact, telling the truth. Osamu was just as shocked and wide-eyed as everyone else was when he came across his twin’s post on Instagram as he scrolled through his feed mindlessly after work. Let us just say that all his sleepiness was gone when he saw his twin’s pretentious selfie of him standing in front of a window (shirtless), his hand holding onto the frame as he looked out into the grey sky. The posture was optimal for him to flex his back, letting the light seeping out around his frame do the trick of accentuating his muscles. Atsumu’s face was not entirely in the frame but Osamu did not need to see to know that he had his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze lowered into a look that was supposed to convey the message of “wow look at me, I’m so sad, and I’m also hot”.

Miya Osamu felt a metallic ting in his mouth when he imagined Atsumu’s face, so heart-wrenchingly similar to his own, making that look.

He got spammed by the group chat as soon as he clicked out of the app in horror, refusing to look at that monstrosity any longer. Ginjima was losing his mind, Akagi sent out strings of just him keyboard smashing, Oomimi replied with a very concerned sticker and proceed to not show up again, Kita who was not actually on Instagram at all said it wasn’t very nice of them to make fun of their friend like that but also didn’t quit the group chat himself. Ojiro was the last one to reply, seeming to be rather irritated after Suna kept tagging him and tagging him until he finally went online. Unlike the others who were still comprehending what had possibly got into their friend, he sent out a screenshot but this time with the caption of the post highlighted.

“Is he ok? Did he got dumped or something?”

Osamu did not look at the caption before it was brought to his attention, already feeling the impact sufficiently enough from the visual itself. He felt chills running through his arms and spreading to his entire body when he glanced at the string of words, his face scrunching up in disgust at how any sane person could type it out with their own hands.

“My world had not seen light since the day you left it without saying goodbye.”

He silently switched his status to “do not disturb” when the group chat exploded once again, knowing exactly what this was and that he was fully responsible for the pain he was experiencing right now.

Osamu tried to convince Atsumu that if anyone saw these, the only thing it would persuade them to do was run away instead of reaching out to him but it was to no avail. He was convinced that this was romantic and if he kept it up, it would create enough buzz that would possibly lead the stranger he was hoping to stumble across one of these painfully awful posts and recognise him. The posts kept coming and every day, Osamu felt more and more of an impulse to just block him for good so he wouldn’t have to open his feed each day with the fear of seeing things he did not want to see. 

One day, on a beautiful weekend morning, when he finally had time to sit down and have a nice breakfast without rushing, Osamu opened his feed to see a glorious picture of his twin chest down (shirtless) on the bed, with the camera panning up to close up on his face from below. The blanket covered Atsumu’s torso loosely, showing just enough of his waist but not too much that he would get flagged. He had the lower half of his face behind his forearm, staring into the camera with such a sultry stare it made Osamu’s skin crawl.

“If I can start over, I’ll give up all I have just for another night with you.”

Osamu nearly didn’t manage to hold himself back from spitting out the water in his mouth.

The word slowly spread among the community. Suna, ever the enthusiastic teammate he was, shared his recently discovered source of joy with fellow EJP Raijin member Komori Motoya, who in turn spammed the latter’s cousin who had no choice but to acknowledge his teammate’s questionable online presence. Sakusa didn’t think he could ever have such a reaction to something that was not physically there to bother him and proceed to show it to the nearest person he could grab in the locker room, but not without reporting the post for containing unsettling images. 

If he had to suffer, then he must make sure that there was someone else suffering with him too. Sakusa had no intention of being the only person who had to see Miya’s pretentious bathroom selfie where he stared into the camera all while running his fingers through dampened hair along with a caption Sakusa did not even want to read in his head. The “someone”, captain Meian Shugo who was really not paid enough for this, sighed as he wondered if this was worth reporting to management as a potential pr crisis. Tomas, somewhat curious by the look on his captain’s face, asked if this was the current social media trend in Japan to which all the players present fought to clear that misconception from his head in order to defend their nation’s honour. 

Bokuto looked it up after hearing about the whispers and chats between breaks. “Why, this isn’t that bad!” he said cheerfully, “There are people complimenting him in the comments too! Look!” 

The rest of the team spent a good chunk of time convincing him that he should think more cautiously about it when he suggested that perhaps he should try to take on this dynamic posing style for his social media accounts too.

It sure did stir up quite the storm among his fellow athletes and the many fans that were wondering what exactly, or who exactly, it was that caused this sudden shift in his behaviour online. The few people who knew the reason for Atsumu’s melancholy, namely Osamu and some others who could not escape from a venting Atsumu, were almost certain that you would have to at least see his face somehow. If he was still hearing nothing, then it was probably about time he gives up and accepts that you just didn’t want anything to do with him.

One thing that these men who put their entire lives into volleyball failed to take into account, however, was that not every person in the world was particularly interested in the sport that lived and breathed. For people who only heard about the sport if the Olympics were coming up, whatever the players were up to in their private lives was probably not something they would care too much about.

Sadly, for Miya Atsumu, the exact person he was looking for was one of those people.

“The fans are starting to go crazy, no one has any idea what is going on with him,” you pulled your phone slightly further away from your poor ears as your friend let out an exasperated yell from the other end of the call. 

They lost you when they started talking about this athlete they had a celeb crush on and how they had been acting very strange in their posts lately, realising that this would become one of their ramblings about people with names you barely remember. They bombed your phone in the middle of the day when they found out that their company would be sponsoring a sports team they were obsessed with and did not stop until you threatened to block them until they had calmed down. You still hadn’t forgiven them completely for disappearing out of nowhere after begging you to attend a company function with them all with the reasoning that if they came across one of the players that would also be invited, you could be there to stop them from embarrassing themselves. That was not entirely useful, given that they were whisked away by their colleagues not even an hour into the event and leaving you all on your own.

If it wasn’t for them, then none of the events following that night would have ever happened.

But the past was past and as they called you again to talk about how they were heartbroken because their fav might be seeing someone, you did not stop them, obviously, since you were a great friend.

A sigh called your attention back and you silently closed your dash of animal videos to focus on what they were saying. “Are you even listening?”

“Uhm...” you hummed, “emo thirst traps, you were saying?”

“We tried to dig down all the accounts he was following but no one was posting anything that might match up to his posts,” they let out a whine.

“So,” you said, “are you still going to see him this weekend even if you are heartbroken or?”

They gasped before you suggested that if they didn’t want to go anymore, then you would do something else rather than sitting through a game you were not interested in. “Of course we’re still going!” they emphasised on the ‘we’, “who knows when I’ll get front row tickets again once the sponsorship ends and they aren’t giving the company tickets anymore!”

They paused. “You’re still going with me,” it sounded more like a threat and a statement than a question, and they asked again when you didn’t reply, “you’re going with me, aren’t you?”

You sighed. They were usually pretty laid back, except when it has something to do with volleyball. What was it with volleyball? It was like... football but with hands, tennis without a rack, basketball but with no basket. Ball sports, they were all the same in your eyes. But despite your lack of interest, the truth was that you wouldn’t have anything else to do if you didn’t go with them anyways and you did promise you would go as long as you didn’t have to pay a single dollar.

So you sighed again, earning you a displeased click of the tongue from the other end of the call.

-

Your lack of interest maintained when the day came. You didn’t think you had ever been to a stadium when there was a game going on before and the arena was already filling up with people waiting to get it by the time you were there. You were delightedly surprised when you learnt that there would be vendors selling food, silently deciding that the very nice yakionigiri you got from one of the stalls might just be the highlight of your day. 

The staff at the store looked vaguely familiar, but you had no idea where you would have possibly seen him before.

When the lights of the venue switched off out of nowhere and the crowd cheered, perhaps you could finally start to understand why your friend was such a fanatic for sports. There was something exciting and grand about the bright spotlights and the announcer’s voice pounding through your ears from the speakers. You peeked at your side to see your friend’s eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before and chuckled to yourself, leaning back with your legs crossed to watch the game in a better position as the players’ names were called one by one.

You froze in place when you saw a very familiar face on every screen around the stadium. 

“Number 13, Miya Atsumu!”

What happened to not being a big shot?

Screams filled up the stadium, especially ear grating when the loudest person seemed to be the one right next to you but your mind was an utter state of blank. You were not expecting to see him again, ever again but here you were, with the next several hours of your life stuck watching the man you ditched after a drunken one night stand in the very front row. He looked more put together than your last image of him, the tussled hair replaced by a careful side swoop and the fitted jersey giving him a fresher look compared to the suit he met you in. He seemed to enjoy the attention, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he marched out and waved languidly around the stadium. 

You thanked the genius who separated the court and the seats into two floors, hiding you away with the distance even though you were sitting at the very front.

“Oh my god, he’s looking at this direction, he’s looking at this direction!” your friend’s vigorous tug at your sleeve brought your void gaze back to the court.

You were convinced that there was no way he could spot you from that far away. Hell, it was still up to question whether he could see any of the audience with all the lights shining onto his face. But for a moment, just a brief moment, you had a gut feeling that your eyes met in that split second when you looked down and his gaze stopped at right where you were.

“What are you looking at?” Hinata asked, turning his head to the direction Atsumu kept stealing glances at as they lined up in front of the net but saw nothing.

Atsumu shook his head, giving a laugh to pass off the moment when he lost his composure when he thought he saw the face he kept thinking of since that night in the crowd. It has got to be an illusion, he must have been blinded by the lights. Stupid lights, he cursed under his breath before turning to his teammate. “It was nothing,” he smiled, his gaze shifting to the corner he thought he saw you at before quickly snapping back to the court, “just... thought I saw someone I know.”

He did not look at you again throughout the game much to your relief. But this time, you found it hard to stop your eyes from following him around. You would like to argue that it was because you didn’t know any of the other players and the way your friend kept gushing whenever he did something made it hard for you to ignore him but the way he seemed to flourish on court. Something inside of you jumped whenever he scored a point and the live cameras panned up at his face again, showing the satisfied grin and slanted eyes plastered on him. He did what he does so well and with so much confidence and for some reason, that explained to you just why you decided to leave with him that night at the club in the strangest way possible. 

He was, still, very good-looking even under the lights and under your sober judgement, perhaps even more so than your blurry memory of how he looked like with a flushed face. But the true hit to your chest was when the entire stadium was watching him as he got to the serving position, taking strides forward before raising his hand to the air.

The world stopped when the entire ground fell to silence at his command, and you took a deep, shaky inhale when you thought of how this person had kissed you again and again on a drunken night until you were both out of breath.

-

Atsumu was almost 99.9% sure he truly did see you when the match ended.

That last 0.1% was deducted because it was a really good match ending with a win for the Black Jackals and as hot-headed as he could be, he knew better than to believe everything that his adrenaline-filled brain was trying to tell him. But with the spotlights of the stadium dimmed and his full attention no longer required on the court, Atsumu looked straight at where he was sure you had sat the moment the stadium doors opened and people started leaving. It was a blurry glance, just a quick in and out of his vision but he was sure he saw you slipping out of the front row before disappearing into the stairs. 

He knew he could still be wrong, but the sudden realisation that he might be the closest to you now than he would ever be again left him frozen in the middle of the court as he stared blankly at the exit. Reporters were starting to gather around the players and his presence was expected, but his legs started moving before the call of his name by the rest of his team could land on his ear. 

Pushing through the crowd, the gasps and shocked chatters of the guests who saw the player they just watched dashing out the stadium were none of his concern. All he cared about was to run faster, faster, past the hall and past the people of the stalls that were packing up. He might have just mistaken someone else for you and if it really was you, you might have already left before he could get to the front entrance of the stadium but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you had been there and if he ran fast enough, there was still a chance that his search all along would not be in vain.

Miya Atsumu was not exactly a believer of fate or a divine destiny but as he stumbled with tired legs down the steps of the grand glass door, he silently made a bet with the beings he wasn’t sure were truly there that if he missed you this time, he would take the defeat that your paths were not meant to cross again and give up.

And the beings, who Atsumu believed was actually there for the first time ever, answered his calls.

“Wait!”

Your feet planted into the concrete when you heard a yell behind you. Your jaw dropped when you hesitantly turned around to see him, whose name you now know thanks to the match, stopping just a few steps away from you with his hands on his knees, seemingly out of breath with his arm reached out. His eyes widened when he looked up and saw that you had stopped there, and you were exactly who he thought you might be. He was heaving, sweat drenching his face but he still took a few stumbled steps towards you until he was right in front of you. 

A few words fell out of his mouth but were cut short by his panting. Your head was still not reacting when he finally managed to stand back up, looking right at you even as his breathing stayed erratic.

What does one say to a one night stand that they ditched right when the morning comes?

“So,” you blurted, trying to ignore the heat on your face and the anxiousness in your chest, “not a big shot, huh?”

He let out a snort, his voice cracking as he ran his hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that was starting to get into his eyes. He could finally take the time to look at you now, after confirming that you would not disappear if he did so little as blink.

You were gorgeous, and suddenly all the things he had wanted to say to you sounded ridiculously stupid.

I tried to look for you.

“You left your ring at my place,” he said, his voice still shaking from the sprint he took, growing softer and softer with each word that came out.

“Oh,” you replied, nodding stiffly to try and brush away your nerves.

“Yeah,” he nodded too, and opened his mouth again after taking a gulp to swallow down the knot at the back of his throat, “we should arrange a time to meet so you can take it back from me.”

“Oh,” you stood just a little straighter, “but-” 

But it was just one of the five I got in a pack so it really, really didn’t matter that much.

“You said,” he looked down, holding back a smile as he thought of what you had said to him, “you said your grandma made you swore to never lose it.”

He remembered.

“Yes,” you pressed your lips together to stop the chuckle from coming out, “yes I was.”

“So you should come and get it back from me,” he suggested, the last note of his sentence going up as if he wasn’t sure of himself either.

“Yeah,” he beamed when you smiled sheepishly, “I should.”

“Ok good, good,” he murmured in joyful disbelief, grinning ear to ear. The grin faded suddenly when he thought of one very important thing he had forgotten to do last time and must not forget this time.

“Can I have your name?”

You burst out into laughter. “You can have my number too, if that’s what you want,” you mused, “Miya.”

 A rush of heat washed through his face at the sound of his name out of your mouth. He would die if you call him by his first name later on, he was sure of it.

“Yes,” he said almost embarrassingly fast, “yes I would love that. I-” he groaned when he realised that he still had his phone in his jacket that was left in the locker room.

“Wait for me here,” he had already started walking backwards, snapping towards you with his hand out as he added in panic, “don’t go anywhere!”

You still hadn’t stopped laughing when he sprinted back into the stadium again like his life depended on it.

-

Bonus

Miya Atsumu deleted all of the posts he made during his search for you the moment he added your contacts into his phone, but what he did not count was that there were other people who would preserve those precious memories for him.

It was a few weeks after he caught up to you in front of the stadium and several days after your relationship went public. Your friend had nearly torn your eardrums apart when they learnt that you were the mysterious person they had been hunting after but overall, dating Atsumu had been great, even to the point where you thought it was so stupid of you to run away from him in the first place.

You got a notification that someone direct messaged you on instagram as you were getting ready for a date night.

It was not someone you know but there was a verification mark next to his username. Clicking into his profile, you assumed that it must be one of Atsumu’s friends in the volleyball circle when you saw the line saying “EJP Raijin middle blocker”.

“Hi, I’m Suna, I was on the same high school team as your boyfriend was. I don’t think we have met but I’m sure we will be very good friends.”

Before you could manage to type out a reply, he sent you multiple pictures and you paused as they loaded, wondering what Atsumu’s old high school teammate might send you.

You blinked when the pictures finally finished loading, and silently dialed your boyfriend’s number.

“Do you have something you forgot to tell me about what you have done in order to try and find me online?”

[sugaxjpg]

infamous; m

⤷  You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing. 

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & SecretRelationship!AU

✓ Filed under: smut 

✓ Look out for: bathroom sex, breast play, oral (male receiving) + deepthroat, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (use condoms or i’ll kill u!!!), mirrors,switch!tae and switch!reader, taehyung being lowkey a prick but we’re all in for it 

✓ Words: 12,508

Author’s Note: Of course my year-long hiatus would end with a smut. What else can I say? I can hear the clown music from here. 

“Like, can you actually believe that? He ghosted me for three weeks, then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic.” She sighed, taking a slip from her neon green drink. You didn’t know how Hyejin could ingest something that resembled toxic waste and make it seem like it actually brought her some sort of comfort. “You know what? I’m done with men. All of them. We really are living in the medieval ti— Are you even listening to me?” 

You blinked twice, taken off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. Truth was, you were only half present, the other half of you scrutinizing the living room, trying to find a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologized, leaning your side against the wall. Behind Hyejin, two guys started yelling about something related to Harry Potter and you couldn’t care less. “I was somewhere else for a second, but I’m here now. You were saying that he ghosted you?”

“Yeah, like an absolute idiot.” She rolled her eyes, gesticulating aggressively. You nervously watched the movements of the radioactive cup, worried that it would splash all over your clothes. You really should’ve thought twice before combining a white blouse with your black skirt — that was a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I’m never talking to him again. Or any man.”

“Hm,” you hummed, crossing your arms. You didn’t know who she was trying to convince, that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). “Who’s that again? Hoseok?” 

“The one and only,” she agreed, glimpsing at her side as if someone could even hear you two amongst the loud reverberation of the music. “Really, I don’t know how those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. They’re a hazard, all seven of them. A threat to public health.”

You shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they pay their tuition and do well in class. That’s as far as the college cares.” 

She groaned. “I guess.” Another slip. A pause. Another one. Yep, you were designated driver for the night. “Could be worse, though, I could be one of the poor chicks that Taehyung fucks in his spare time.” 

Oh. 

You giggled, nervous. “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, looking back at the mass of students. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

She hummed in concordance, taking her cup back to her lips. The two guys behind her decided to quit the arguments and moved away from the two of you, making you follow their figures as they dissipated amongst the crowd. You didn’t know how college parties managed to squeeze so many people in one small living room, but it was one of the mysteries of life, you guessed. 

“I don’t know what’s the deal with that one,” Hyejin continued. “It’s like he has a golden dick or something.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your attention back at her. “What do you mean?” 

“Doesn’t matter, he’s a complete douche.” She moved her hand as if she was scaring away an invisible fly. “Don’t even think about him. He’s the kind that uses and discards people.”

“You think so?” You asked.

“I know so,” she said. “I couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with Taehyung, and somehow became completely whipped by the dude, only to be told that he doesn’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. Like… What the fuck is that? Who says that?”  

You laughed, noticing the tinge of red that covered her cheeks. “You sound really drunk.” 

“So?” She asked. “I’m not bullshitting you. Taehyung is a prick and that’s gospel.” She raised her cup in a silent cheer, and took another slip. “I know you’re not involved in the fuckboy phenomena that plagues this campus, and, honestly, you’re better off that way. But trust me when I say that he isn’t worth the headache.” 

With an inattentive nod, you took another peek at the strangers in the room. “I believe you, don’t worry.” 

The worst part? You did. 

Even worse? There were two things wrong with what she had told you. 

Number one: yes, Taehyung was kind of a jerk sometimes. But he wasn’t completely soulless. He was fun to be around, actually, when he wasn’t surrounded by his smooth-brained friends, or trying to impress someone into sleeping with him. Also, you were pretty sure he told at least most of those girls that he wasn’t searching for anything serious, and a one-night stand was most likely all that they would get. 

You couldn’t speak for all of them, of course, but the ones that you knew personally, at least, had mentioned something along those lines to you. He didn’t exactly lead them on, trying to break their hearts just for the sake of it. Besides, Taheyung was already kind of infamous around campus for “using and discarding” people, as Hyejin had put, so it wasn’t precisely a surprise for anyone involved. 

Number two: Taehyung fucked the same person twice, if he felt like it. And you knew that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

To your defense, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship when you first met him. In fact, you didn’t expect that you would fall victim to his charms just like everyone else, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you could hold it. And you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did. 

Truth was: Kim Taehyung was everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he was attractive as hell; he knew that he had a voice so silky and deep that just saying the right words would be enough to have you in bed with him — and he knew how to use two two things very well. So, just like Eve, you followed the snake and bit the apple, and blah blah blah, eternal damnation or something like that. Big deal. 

You didn’t care much about being fuckbuddies with Taehyung, actually — he had his fun with other people in the meantime, and so did you —, but you pretty much could die at the idea that someone would find out. It was an ego thing, alright? You didn’t want people to know that you were interested in him, since you prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, and to have people think that you were wrapped around his finger (which you absolutely wasn’t!) would not be a good look for your personal brand. 

And it got more complicated than that. The thing was that Taehyung had always been one to flaunt around his trophies. It wasn’t unheard of for him to just start talking about someone that he had fucked, maybe even giving a bit more detail than anyone else involved would appreciate. You knew that it was just a matter of time before your name dropped from his lips at the wrong time, in front of his ape-brained friends, and everyone would discover that you were added to his long lists of booty calls. 

So, when you asked to keep that first night a secret, you were surprised when he quickly accepted it. 

Against all expectations, Taehyung didn’t fall into his old pattern when it came to you. He had been the one to text you first, calling you over to his place — which he made sure to be empty — and he had been the first one to suggest that you two kept meeting up after that. Now, let’s not get this mixed up: it wasn’t an undisclosed crush, it wasn’t love. It was just Taehyung fulfilling some weird-ass kink of his. He liked to have you when he wanted it, the way he wanted it, and he liked the thrill of it all being undisclosed — to him, it felt like you two were doing something wrong, which managed to turn him on even more. 

Also, you were human, alright? There was something extremely tempting about sleeping with someone as almighty as Kim Taehyung, King of Fuckboys, especially when he kept coming back to you. It’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

Again: it was an ego thing. 

Even if your pride told you otherwise, you decided, again and again, to come back to him. Late at night in your apartment, when your roommate had already gone to sleep, and he was buried deep between your legs, licking your wetness and sucking on your clit. Or maybe in the interval between your classes, when you two managed to get the locker rooms empty, and he fucked you so hard against one of the lockers that you could swear someone would come see what was going on with all that banging against the metal. 

But no, no one ever caught you. Not Hyejin or any of your other friends. As far as you were aware, Taehyung’s group didn’t know a thing either, which made you appreciate him even more. 

See? He wasn’t a total douchebag. He had the most basic sense of loyalty. 

And, yeah, you didn’t like lying to your friends, but it was a necessary measure. You were sure they would kill you if they found out about your private escapades with the Local Fuckface McGee: half out of sheer panic for your emotional well-being, and the other half out of pure jealousy. You didn’t think much about it most of the time, since you kind of understood Taehyung’s side: you simply liked the thrill, and you weren’t actually doing anything illegal. No one really had to know.

Rupturing the bubble of your nostalgia, your friend’s voice startled you back into reality. 

“Who are you looking for?” Hyejin furrowed her eyebrows, staring you down intensely. She had been your friend for three years, and you were absolutely certain she could see through your bullshit — well, most of the time. “Do you have a dick appointment that I don’t know about?” 

You laughed, your voice coming out an octave higher than you intended it to. “What? No!” So subtle, congratulations. “I’m just searching for a friend. She owes me a bit of money and she’s been avoiding me for some time.” 

You were impressed at the ease that the lie left your tongue. At the same time, you had been doing that for five months now — keeping your distance from mentioning anything Taehyung, figuring out excuses to get away from your friends at the weirdest of times — , so you guessed that was something that came with practice. 

“You want me to beat her up?” Hyejin offered. Just a glimpse was all that you needed to know that she was dead serious. “Give me her name. I promise I just wanna talk.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you said, chuckling at her aggressive demeanor. “It’s not a lot of money, I’m not super worried. I’m just tired of being avoided.” 

She smirked, taking another slip from her cup. How didn’t the drink end yet? That cup was infinite. “You and me both, sister.” 

Your lips parted, but, before you managed to let anything out, a loud sound of men screaming in excitement overlapped the beat of the electronic song. Hyejin met your eyes with a mixture of puzzlement and interest and, in an unspoken agreement, you two decided to see what the fuss was about. 

Lucky for you, you two didn’t even have to take two steps to figure it out. Since the large opening to the living room was right besides you, all that you needed to do was to take a look through it, right at the kitchen, to see the beautiful, Animal Planet view of Hoseok drinking beer upside down. 

“Hyejin?” You called calmly, eyes still glued to the spectacle.

“Yes, love?” She answered, absent-minded. 

“You know who’s throwing this party, right?” 

She shrugged. “I might.” 

You suspired, taking a step back so you could stare at her. Behind you, people walked towards the kitchen, pumped to see if Hoseok could drink the entire thing (as if he didn’t do that in every single party he throwed). “So, there’s any other reason why you dragged me to Hoseok’s party, besides one that you needed someone to keep you company while you waited to be dicked down?” 

“Great deduction, Sherlock.” She smiled, eyes shining in enthusiasm. You looked at Hoseok, then back at Hyejin. Maybe she wouldn’t have any grounds to judge you and Taehyung after that circus performance. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried about that.” You crossed your arms. Seokjin, who was holding Hoseok by the ankles, pterodactyl-screeched in joy as the boy reached the end of the beer. Two more slips and he’d be good to go. “You sent him the tit pic, didn’t you?” 

Hyejin licked her lips, taking a hand up to fix her hair. “I’m only human,” she said. “Besides, I had already invested a lot on him. I even did a full body shave. I couldn’t just not do it.” 

You laughed at the idea, watching as she became more and more distracted by the man. A group had already formed around Hoseok, and you knew it was just a matter of when Hyejin would do the same. 

“What happened about being over all men?” You asked. 

“Yeah, yeah… After tonight. Right now I’m planning to get under one.” She gave you her neon green cup with a harsh movement, and you held it without thinking much about it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N. Hold my drink for me.”

“Have a great night, I guess,” you raised the sound of your voice as she began to walk away. “Text me when you get home!” 

She responded without turning back, giving you a thumbs up over her head. “You too, girlie!” 

And, just like that, she was gone. 

Disappointed but not surprised, you sighed and placed your body back against the wall. From the kitchen, a roaring applause exploded, and you knew that Hoseok had finished his Herculean task. Good for him. 

You stared down. The sharp shade of green reflected on the skin of your hands, looking like something straight out of Chernobyl. You took the cup to your nostrils and gave it an experimental sniff, your nose cringing at the appalling smell. Fighting the disgust that had built in your stomach, you quickly took it away from your face, and decided to place it on a table nearby. No wonder Hyejin was so out of it, the poor girl was suffering from radiation poisoning. 

The Chainsmorkers started to play and you asked yourself why the fuck was Satan in charge of the music. All around you, strangers fumbled to the rhythm of the song, a girl even falling to her knees at one bad turn of the ankle, then turning her gaze up at her friends and laughing maniacally. The odor that enveloped you was strong and nauseating — Axe body spray, probably — and the thumping of the sound was starting to get annoying. Since you were alone with your thoughts, there wasn’t much left besides to hyperfocus on those details, which was all but a pleasant pastime. 

You crossed your arms, bored out of your mind, and thought that it might be the wiser decision to go back to your place and just sleep the night off. Yeah, the semester was already ending, most of your tests and projects had passed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t completely exhausted at all the accumulated stress you had endured. Now that Hyejin had moved on with her plan, you didn’t have much of a part to play in that party anyways. 

A couple almost tripped on you as they giggled their way towards the stairs, probably searching for an available room. What a nice reminder. You pressed your lips together, then peaked back at the kitchen, where you only saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook leaning over a pile of red cups — Yoongi right behind them, seeming like he was about to kick the whole thing down. You didn’t know where Taehyung was, but he most likely already left with someone else. 

You turned back to your previous position, crossing your arms in frustration. Great. Your friend was after her sexting partner, and your own booty call was probably balls deep inside someone else by then. Really, there wasn’t much that you could do in there. It would be better if you just left while your dignity was still intact. 

With a sigh, you pushed your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. You were praying that Hyejin remembered to give you the car keys, otherwise you would be trapped in that place for god knows how lo— 

Oh there he fucking was. 

The moment that you saw Taehyung, sitting on the couch across the room from you, it was like you forgot to breathe for a moment. That little demon incarnated looked better than you had anticipated — dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. His dark hair was parted in the middle, a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, and his thumb distractedly circled his lower lip as his gaze navigated around the room, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him, you could see another one of his friends — Jimin, if you were not mistaken — talking about something animatedly, but the other man was paying no attention. 

His expression was one of irritation, you noticed, with his thick eyebrows moving together, jaw clenching. It was pretty erotic, if you said so yourself. You didn’t know what Jimin was telling him, but you sure hoped he wouldn’t stop anytime soon. 

When he saw you, however, Taehyung’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipated. 

With your mind racing in anticipation, you watched as his eyes met your own, then trailed down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you had predicted. You knew that stare awfully well — it was the same one that Taehyung gave you when he saw you around campus, the silent provocation that told you, and only you, that he really wanted to have some alone time right now. 

A sly smirk sprouted at the corner of his lips, and he leaned back against the couch. You followed his movements as he reached towards his pocket and came back with his phone, staring at you as he did so. The phantasmagoric white light casted odd shadows over his face as he unlocked it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he started to type something. Once he was done, he locked his phone and placed it back where it had come from. 

Inside your purse, your own phone beeped happily. 

You licked your lips, trying your best to forge indifference as you reached for your device. You swore you could still feel his eyes still burning on you, impatient and deep, watching your every move with eagerness. 

[00:23] Taehyung: so glad to see that you came bby 

[00:23] Taehyung: do me a favor and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, will ya? Second door to the right ;) 

Yep, new plans: you would stay there a bit longer. 

Hammering against your chest, your heart seemed as if it was about to jump out of your mouth by the time that you turned your attention back to the couch. Taehyung, however, had already gotten up, and you had the chance to take a last glance towards his beautiful form as he walked towards the stairs. Jimin, from the couch, appeared to be as lost as they come. 

From the kitchen, the resounding complaint of the group you had seen before ruptured your hypnotized state — Yoongi had, in fact, kicked everything down. Taken aback by the carnality that permeated your chest, you locked your phone without typing an answer and leaned back against the wall, deciding it would be best to wait a minute or two before following him upstairs. Amongst your thoughts, a part of you was still judging whether you adored or despised Kim Taehyung, and the intoxicating effect he had on you. 

Finally, you decided to take the stairs. You wondered, as you opened your way through the ocean of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you weren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that was actually very simple. It was a story with a start, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two wanted to fuck each other, you did, then you moved right on. No hidden feelings, no strings attached. That was it. Couldn’t get any better than that. 

Regardless, it wasn’t everything about that, and you knew it. It was about overhearing other girls talking as you made your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot he was, or about how he didn’t call them back after he gave them the best night of their lives. It was about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. It was about knowing that yeah, Taehyung was crazy hot — and you could have that whenever you wanted. It was about hearing him complain about his friends, who told him that you’d never give him a chance, and seeing the delectable pleasure in which he vangloriared himself, knowing very well that you and him had a second life to share whenever suited. 

You reached the second floor with electric currents running through your veins, anticipation building like a tidal wave inside your abdomen. You two had never done something like that so close to so many people and, yet, you adored the idea even more. 

The cold metal of the door handle met the palm of your hand and you tried it once, twice, with no effect. After looking at the corridor and making sure that Taehyung was nowhere else to be seen — besides the fact that, if he didn’t manage to get the bathroom, he would surely text you a different location — you were left to assume that he wanted to know that it was you who waited at the other side. 

With a sigh, you took your phone out of your purse. Maybe your fingers weren’t as steady as you’d like them to be, but no one needed to know about that. 

[00:27] You: plz open the door thx

Expectantly, you placed your phone back and tried to overhear some sort of sound signifying that he was moving closer to the door — but the song was so loud that you could barely understand your own thoughts. The next seconds that you stood there, just waiting for him to open the door, had been the longest ones you had endured in your life. 

Eventually, however, the door creaked open. 

You gave one last, paranoid glimpse at the strangers in the corridor, but none of them seemed to notice that Taehyung hadn’t left the bathroom by the time that you came in, locking the door behind you. 

It was like stepping into a different reality. The lights inside the bathroom were absurdly bright when compared to the dim environment that expanded outside; the obnoxious song and chatter had instantly morphed into a muted exclamation outside of the door, only the reverberation of the bass making itself present. Just like the calm before the storm, there was a moment of tranquility between the instant that you locked the door, and the one that you saw him. 

As you turned around, dwelling in his proximity, you thought about a million things at the same time — about teasing him about his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he had to count on his covert booty call to get laid in a party. You thought about how gorgeous he looked, about how his eyes glistened in interest as he took a quiet step towards you, his roseate tongue coming out to lick his lips. 

Regardless, before you could say anything, Taehyung’s lips were on your own, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. You whimpered in surprise as he pushed you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezed your body against his. Your purse fell on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even noticed it. 

Taehyung had always been an intense kisser to say the least, but that night it was something else. That night, he was kissing you as if he physically couldn’t contain himself long enough to do anything else; as if all that he could think of doing was to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, your fingers pulling on the strands of his hair. As he invited his tongue inside your mouth, Taehyung groaned and lowered his hands, squeezing your ass like he was about to lose every last ounce of sanity he had left in him. 

You sighed as he moved his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses in a way that you knew would leave a mark the next day. “Someone’s excited,” you commented, slightly breathless. Your only response was another groan, and the rolling of his hips against you, where you could feel his cock, already semi-hard, pressing against your inner thigh. “Couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else.” 

One of his hands moved up to your hair, pulling your head sideways so he could have a better access to your neck. “I need to have you now,” his deep voice came out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your center. 

“You’re starting to get more adventurous with this.” You bit down on your lower lip and he sucked your flesh, groping your ass once again. “Parties used to be so off limits to you.” 

Taehyung chuckled against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. He started making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you thought you could very well pass out at the level of craving that had built inside you. “I changed my mind.” He spoke as he leaned back. 

You smirked at his attitude. “We’ll end up getting caught.” 

“Aw, baby.” He pouted, looking at you with artificial pity. Okay, he could be kind of a prick sometimes. “You’re the one who’s worried. And you came all the way up here because you wanted to. You know I’m not one to insist.”

“I can leave, then?” You raised one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You can, the door is right behind you,”  Taehyung told you, quickly losing interest in that conversation. “But something tells me you won’t.” 

You didn’t even try to respond, because there was nothing to be said: both of you knew what you were doing there, and the idea of walking out was just too ridiculous to consider. 

With a suspire, you watched as Taehyung moved his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“What if someone hears us?’ You suddenly remembered, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked as his fingers worked on your buttons, exposing more of your torso. That slow pace of his was going to kill you one of those days. “You’re worried that people are going to find out about this? About us?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but his chuckle — so deep and melodious — caught you off guard. 

“How scandalous, right? Y/N is not the pure little thing she makes herself to be,” Taehyung continued, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. He licked his lips at the sight, humming with delight. “Red lace? You really want to tease me.” 

You swallowed dry as the man took the fabric off your shoulders and gently placed besides the sink, above a towel. He could be so thoughtful sometimes. “Taehyung, I—“ 

“You’re such a little brat sometimes, do you know that?” he interrupted, eyes following his own movements as his hands circled your body, moving to unclasp your bra. And of course he got it right on the first try. “You came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it.” 

You stared him down, a smirk already creeping up at the corner of your lips. “How does that make me a brat?” 

He chuckled. “Look at you, trying to play the naive card on me.” Another agile movement of his fingers and your bra was joining your blouse besides the sink. Taehyung sighed tentatively at the image of your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “Pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You can drop the act now, baby.”

“I don’t—“

His mouth attacking your breasts was all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he went there to do. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezed you, playing with your soft boobs as he moaned against your skin. 

“I love it so much.” Taehyung hummed as he sucked on your breasts, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. You had almost forgotten how much Taehyung ached to play with your boobs; how often he would squeeze them, suck them; find excuses to feel them against his body. Not that you were complaining. “And I love that it’s all for me.” He breathed out before attacking your other nipple. “All of this… all mine.” 

You whimpered at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. As much as you knew he was most likely just saying whatever he thought would turn you on — besides, you two had already agreed on a pretty open “relationship” —, Taehyung’s words expanded inside your chest, building a heat that seemed to suffocate you. Even if you knew it was bullshit, you liked to be called his. Ego strokes and all of that. 

“Taehyung…” There was only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and you couldn’t care less if they heard you calling out his name. That boy really did wonders to your anxiety. 

But he also liked to tease you. 

He moved away from your breasts and you almost — almost — cried out in frustration. 

Taehyung traced his kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. You were going crazy with all that back and forth. “Baby, I’m not gonna lie, I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “I like to keep this as a secret too. It’s so hot.” 

You almost forgot how to inhale when he aligned his face with yours, placing a pec on your swollen lips. “Yeah?” You asked, sounding as if you were in a daydream. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. Even if Taehyung tried his best to look as he was under absolute control, you knew that he couldn’t keep that front for too long. He was clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh was all of the proof that you needed. “It’s so great to know that I have one of the sexiest girls on campus just for myself…” His hand trailed up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “And no one knows.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “I thought you were the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Most times,” he mumbled, gifting you with another small pec. “Not with you. I like it like this. Having you when I want, how I want, and only you and I know.”

But you weren’t satisfied with his answer.  His hand did a turn and decided to make a quick stop on your ass, the feeling of skin against skin making your lower body tingle. “What’s so enticing about it?” You asked. 

He smiled. “Ah… many things.”

Your stare didn’t falter. “I’d like an exemple.” 

Instead of answering you straight away, Taehyung decided to take his sweet time. He leaned his head to the side and kissed you feverishly, growing satisfied at the small whimpers and suspires that echoed in between your mouths. His hands were all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes could not see. You only had your skirt and your panties on, and it was so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

At last, Taehyung pulled away, placing his forehead against yours. As he spoke, you felt the tingle of his hands as they moved towards the hem of your panties. “I like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re so sore from the night before,” he spoke slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “And I know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. About how I fucked you so good that you almost cried, and that it’s the next day, and you can barely walk.” 

You hummed, closing your eyes. “What else?”

Much to your dismay, his hands left your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “When you send me those audios late at night,” he was breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “Playing with your little cunt, crying out my name… shit,” he cursed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? So there I go, out the door, telling my friends that I’m gonna see this crazy hot chick and I’m gonna fuck her brains out…” he hesitated. “And I just get this... rush because they don’t know it’s you.” 

“And how do you know that I like any of it?” You teased. 

Taehyung chuckled at your question. Both of you knew that it was plastered all over your face, but he could keep up that little teasing if you wanted to. “Two reasons,” he said. “First: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“I don’t recall,” you responded, forging innocence. Okay, maybe you did play the naive part a bit much. 

“Oh no? What a terrible memory you have.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. Taehyung was so close that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wondered how you even managed to breathe in that position. “It was just last week, baby. You called me to your flat after your roommate had left.” One of his hands went back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like lit matches against your skin. “You opened so wide for me, you were so wet already. You got so horny with just the thought of having my cock, isn’t that right?” 

Much to your surprise, your voice came out a lot more steady than you had expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

Taehyung chuckled, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “I don’t,” he agreed, digits pressing against your clothed clit. You knew he could feel how soaked your panties had become, so there was no reason to keep that up. Regardless, you kind of liked it. “But I do remember how much you wanted me that night, whining and begging me to fill you up with my cock. How many times did I fuck you that night, uh? Four? Five times? And you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbors might have been listening. That was so cute.” 

You sighed, your insides in knots over the tension you were sustaining. You hated him sometimes. Hated how good he was. “I wasn’t counting.” 

“I know, baby.” He swiftly pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, his long fingers digging into your wet heat. Memories of them fucking you open flooded your mind, sending a shockwave directly through your torso and towards your pussy. “And this right here, baby, is the second reason. Look at this: you’re soaked.” His digits moved, teasing your entrance, and the sound was so lewd that you had to suppress a moan. “You’re always so ready to take me. I love that. You’re so good to me.” 

God, you were about to lose it.

With the force of then thousand warriors, you held back another less-than-graceful sound from escaping your lips. You knew how much Taehyung liked you being loud (something to do with the adrenaline of getting caught, nothing new to see here), and so you had to keep your cool. It wouldn’t be so fun if you just gave him everything he wanted. 

“So quiet all of a sudden.” His nose delicately trailed up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in hot, open kisses. In an attempt to ground yourself, your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. You could still feel Taehyung’s fingers playing with your wet folds, seeing how much you could take before you were begging for them to enter you. You hated him. Or not. You didn’t know. “I know I leave you speechless, baby, but I wanna hear you too.” 

Strong and steady, his other hand met the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his. In a mindless reflex, you perked up your ass at the contact, making his fingers slip closer to your soaking entrance. 

“Nothing? Baby, you’re especially irresistible tonight.” Taehyung’s eyes were somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. He appeared as if he was two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind. “You know why I called you here?” 

“Because you want to fuck me,” you responded without missing a beat. 

“I do, of course.” He placed his forehead against yours, and you whimpered weakly as two of his fingers finally (finally!) made their way into your heat, stretching you nicely. “That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.”

Instead of answering, another slow, delicious moan dripped like honey from your tongue. Taehyung grunted, satisfied at your responses, and quickened the pace inside your walls; your eyelashes fluttering shut at the ambrosial sensation. He had told you once about how much he liked that part: knowing that you were getting ready for his cock, but already so eager to cum around his fingers. 

Did he tell you that while he fingered you inside his car? Yes. Did anyone else have to know that? Absolutely not. 

“You know what I was doing before I came here?” His question caught you off guard. 

You didn’t even know if you were able to answer for a second, but, happily, the word didn’t have any issue coming out. “What?”

He took a deep, sharp breath, curling his fingers inside you. You pressed your back against the door at the shock of his digits brushing against your sensitive spot, one of your hands flying to your mouth in a way to suppress a particularly loud exclamation of pleasure. “I was listening to Jimin complain about how much he wanted to have you in his bed tonight,” his voice came out in a harsh tone, full of spikes and pointed corners. “Over and over, like a broken record. He can be so explicit when he wants to. It’s unbearable.”

You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hip against his hand. Your body was starting to tingle, the muscles in your legs turning into jello, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. As you spoke, you noticed touches of bliss ornamenting your syllables, your words coming out with a bit more difficulty than before. “Oh, so you’re jealous?” You teased.

“Me? Never,” he was quick to respond, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him; his cock throbbing painfully against the fabric of his pants. “I’m just… trying to change your mind.”

“My mind?” You echoed, only half-aware of that conversation. Pleasure was starting to build in alarming rates, and you were starting to lose your trail of thought. “I haven't even decided anything yet.” 

“After I’m done, baby, you won’t need to,”  his voice came out in a profound whisper, sounding like a sweet melody against your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and slow, so deep,” he stressed that word, making your pussy throb around his fingers at the idea, “that you won’t want to have anyone else for the night. Only me.” 

It sounded a bit like possessiveness or jealousy to you, but, honestly, you chose not to pick that conversation for the night. It was probably some kind of acting on his part too. Besides, you weren’t interested in any of Taehyung’s friends, so he didn’t need to worry about Jimin, or anyone else, making a move — especially when he was fingering you so well that you were about to forget your name. 

“And the best part, baby, is that no one will even know it,” he continued, separating his fingers slightly so he could scissor you. Against your best judgement, your knees were getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie. “Just you and I. Just the two of us will know how much you begged to be filled up with my cock, how wet you already are just for my fingers.” 

“Taehyung,” you called out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. You moaned out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone that he felt as if he was about to cum on the spot. God, Taehyung loved hearing the effect he had on you. “I’m close.” 

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your ear. His voice was so hoarse, so permeated by desire, that you knew that he was holding back too. His cock was hard and throbbing against your legs, and every minor movement of your thigh against his erection was enough for him to lose his breath for a moment. “But I don’t want you to cum, not yet.” 

Again, he pulled away. 

Taehyung wanted you to complain, to whine about the lack of contact or the warmness of his body — and so, just because you knew that it was his plan, you didn’t do any of that. 

You didn’t say a word as he moved his fingers away from your wetness, his other hand coming down to grope your ass. You didn’t flinch when he looked you deep inside your eyes, guiding his fingers between your lips, watching as your mouth obediently took them in, humming as you sucked your own wetness, never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, drowing in the sensation of your warm tongue licking his fingers. You didn’t think that Taehyung was fully aware of the way that his hips had rolled against yours, fighting for relief. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unreal.”  

And you knew that he said that praise to every poor soul that crossed his path, but it still managed to have some effect on you. Again: you were human, and Taehyung knew what the fuck he was doing. 

But so did you.

Before he could try and do anything else, you pressed your palms against his chest, gently pushing him a few steps away from you. Taehyung followed your lead, watching as you got down to your knees, facing his erection. 

In measured, lackadaisical movements, you pressed your lips against his covered cock, feeling its handness against your mouth. Air got stuck in Taehyung’s throat as he watched you, like a hungry lion, as you undid his pants and pulled them down, gifting you with the sight of his white boxers. 

Just because you knew he liked it, you moaned at the glorious sight of his big, heavy cock already so hard and ready for you; fingers caressing the tip of his member, where a small stain of precum already started to form. Taehyung was so on the edge that he hissed at the contact, one of his hands meeting the back of your head in a mindless impulse. “Don’t tease,” he warned. 

“Oh, so you can and I can’t?” You leaned your head to the side, and planted a kiss on his cock before looking up at him. May the heavens have mercy on you, because you never saw Taehyung so pissed off and turned on at the same time. “I think I could even make you cum like this if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he struggled to get out.

“What? You liked when I did that the other times,” you cooled. “Sometimes you didn’t even need my mouth.” 

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the moan that started to climb up his throat. “Stop.” 

“What? You don’t remember?” You asked, placing another kiss on his member, closer to tip that time. “When I let you grind against my ass in the library? You came just by humping me, pants and all.” 

With a cute smile, your hand squeezed his dick, before moving up and down, following its thick outline. Taehyung was dumbfounded, left to watch as your delicate hands worked on his erection with unbearable patience, his eyes glued to every action that you made — the fluttering of your eyelashes, the innocent gazes that you threw his way every time your lips met the cotton of his underwear. If you kept it up for long enough, he was sure he would cum all over his boxers. 

Still, the gods above had heard his prayers, and Taehyung watched as you pulled his underwear down. Without a second of hesitation, you moaned as your tongue licked him all the way from the base to the top, lips enveloping his crown as you sucked on it ever so slightly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, fingers pulling on your hairstrands. “That’s good, fuck.” 

You hummed, content at his reaction, and pushed him deeper inside your warm mouth, one of your hands holding at the base of his cock. Beneath your other palm, you could feel as the muscles of his thigh tensed up at the sensation. His lips open slighlty, allowing for a long, erotic moan to echo inside the bathroom as you started to set a pace, sucking him slowly, just like you knew it drove him mad. 

“You’re so fucking good at this, baby,” Taehyung groaned, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. The vision of him was ethereal: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows forming an expression of sheer pleasure and concentration. You cursed your own eyes as they started to water, preventing you from watching him a bit further. “Oh, that’s right, just like that.. you suck me so well, fuck.” 

The pulsating, unsatisfied sensation of need between your thighs only grew, your walls clenching around nothing and your heart beating fast against your chest. You could taste as his precum leaked inside your mouth, his fragmented breaths and whines showing you that Taehyung also wasn’t made of steel. As much as you’d like to see him cum soon, you also needed to be taken care of.

After a particularly hard suck, you pulled your mouth away from his member, and looked up at him. The lack of contact was all that Taehyung needed to open his eyes and stare down at you, surprised at the interruption of his pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you tried your best to make your voice sound as pure and sensual as you could. His eyes widened slightly at the sound — no matter how hard he tried to make it seem like he was annoyed by that saint act of yours, you knew that it drove him insane. “I want you to fuck me now, please.” 

You watched as his face presented a thousand emotions at the same time, and then eventually settled on the cool, controlled dominance you adored so much. Another surge of pleasure ran down your body, much stronger this time, and the feeling of your soaked panties against your pussy was making you go insane with anticipation. 

“I love it when you ask politely.” He placed his hand on your chin, trailing your lower lip with his thumb. “Get up, baby,” he commanded. 

Without an ounce of hesitation, you did as you were told, letting your body be guided by his large hands. 

Taehyung turned you around and leaned you against the sink, positioning himself behind you. “Back to me, ass up,” he said, “Keep it like this, alright?” 

You nodded, unsure that you could say anything else. 

“Good girl.” Taehyung once again held your chin up, making you stare at your own reflection in the mirror for a second before your eyes traveled towards his. God, he was an absolute mess. In the best of ways. “I want you to look at it.”

Any second now, your legs would give out and you would crash down on the floor — or, at least, that’s the sensation you had. It was unbearable to watch as Taehyung took his time removing his shirt; then your skirt and your panties, dripping them down your legs one by one, his mouth so deliciously close to your heat that you felt like you could faint. 

“So pretty,” he mumbled to himself, watching your pussy with desire. “So fucking wet.” 

“I want to feel you, please.” You arched your back, throwing your hips closer to his. 

“Like this, baby?” With a glorious roll of his hips against yours, you felt as his cock moved in between your folds, his head only touching your clit slightly. The sensation alone was enough to make you perk your ass up at him, a motion that wasn’t left unnoticed by his part. 

He smirked at your reaction. “Such a pure little thing, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s hands palmed your ass, moving like snakes towards your waist, where they held you in place. Another roll of his hips and the contact of his dick against your clit made your knees buckle. “You’re so polite, just asking for my cock again and again… You don’t even notice how wet you get thinking about it, grinding against it. Isn’t that so?” 

You had no option but to agree, lowering your head to look at the marble sink beneath you. “Yeah,” your voice came out in a pathetic whine, but you couldn’t even care about it. You just wanted to feel him inside you. “It’s all for you, Taehyung.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, taking one of his hands to guide his cock towards your opening. Expectant, you held your breath, but he didn’t slide in just yet. “Just tell me what you want, come on.” Again, he leaned in and pushed your chin up. “And look at me while you say that.”  

Obediently, you did. Taehyung was a greek god then. Under the pale yellow lights of the bathroom, his lips were swollen and red, the lower one being bit lightly by his teeth; his entire expression permeated by lust as he dove into the sensation of his cock teasing your entrance. He stared at you like you were good enough to eat, his eyes coruscating with so much hunger that you couldn’t even think about anything else but him. No wonder you kept coming back. His entire presence was engulfing every fiber of your being. 

Maybe Kim Taehyung did have a golden dick, after all. 

“I want you to fuck me, Taehyung,” a sentence had never been so clear, so sincere. From the corner of your eye, you could see your own face, desperate and pleading, as you fumbled closer to his member. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.” 

With a hum, he kissed the nape of your neck. “Whatever my girl wants.” 

And, before you could even think about his words, your thoughts were broken as you moaned out his name, feeling as his big cock stretched you, hitting all the right spots. You had missed that sensation so much, of being so full of him, so hypnotized by the movements of his body against yours, that you didn’t even compute the shuddering breath that departed from his mouth, nor the curse that he had let out once he felt the warmness of your walls around his aching member. 

He thought he could lose his last ounces of sanity as he pulled out just enough to leave only his tip in, before throwing his lips against yours and filling you back up. Soon enough, Taehyung was setting a rhythm, unable to control his comments as he kept thrusting inside you. 

“So tight, baby,” he spoke in a whisper, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it. His face in the mirror was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen: Taehyung was so lost in pleasure that his features had morphed into an expression of sheer bliss; all of his concentration directed at the movements of your body, the way that your walls held him with so much desire. “You take my cock so well… Shit, you’re making me go crazy.” 

Taehyung’s breath quivered and he leaned his body towards you, fighting for balance. He had one of his hands on your waist, and the other was holding down to the sink, leveling his figure as he started to thrust into you in that different angle — just as slow, hard and deep as he had promised. 

You rolled your head back once he hit the right spot inside you, your moans going up an octave. “Fuck, right there, Taehyung,” you whined, barely aware of the volume of your voice. To hell with it, the music was too loud anyways. “There, right there, don’t stop.” 

“Here?” He groaned, thrusting in the exact place that made you cry out. “That’s it, baby, let it out.” 

And you wanted to prolong that moment for as long as you could, but, truth was, he had played around with you enough that you knew you wouldn’t last much. Even sucking his cock, feeling as he mumbled and trembled under your touches, had been enough to keep you turned on. Again: you were only human, and the paradisiacal feeling of Taehyung’s cock filling you up to the brim, hitting your sweet spot with forceful thrusts, was a bit more than you could endure. 

“Taehyung, I think I’m close,” you told him, feeling as your arms grew weaker beneath you. It was just a matter of time before your legs started shaking too. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Shh, that’s fine, baby.” He moved your hair away from your back, placing a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulders. “Come on, cum around my cock. I want to feel you.” 

“It’s so big, Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes in defeat. You could tell that your pleasure was already building up too much, too fast. You couldn’t help it: he was stretching you so fantastically that every part of you was on overdrive, the pent-up tension of the entire night culminating in one long, edging orgasm. 

“It’s all yours, baby, all of it,” he told you, guiding you towards your high. God, his voice was so hoarse, so sweet. “Cum for me, okay? And don’t hold back, I want to hear you.” 

Just like that, you came with a loud moan and the calling of his name in a repetitive prayer, walls clenching around him in a way that made him lose his grip on reality. You whimpered at the pleasure, that now was gradually subsiding, and lowered your body against the marble, feeling how cold it was, how different it was from the rest of the bathroom. 

“That’s it, baby, yeah… That was so fucking hot.” Taehyung groaned behind you, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was moving you so hard that you could feel your hip bones being pressed against the corners of the marble surface, the dirty sound of wetness and skin against skin filling the ambient. “Look at all this… so wet and tight, even after coming so hard.” 

From the way that Taehyung’s movements started to get sloppier, you could tell that he was losing himself in his own sense of pleasure, getting closer to his own climax. “All of this… all for me,” he moaned out, eyes glued to the motion of his cock coming in and out of your dripping center. “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this forever.”

The pounding of his hips against your ass was getting so intense that you could feel tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes, fingers trembling under the weight of overstimulation. Taehyung had fucked you hard before, but you just couldn’t get used to how fantastic it felt. 

“I’m close,” he cried out behind you, his breath coming out in broken, tremulous expirations. “Can I cum on your mouth, baby? I want to see you swallow everything.” 

You nodded, mouth salivating at the thought. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. “That’s my girl.” 

Taehyung pulled away from you and you moved fast, getting back down on your knees as he guided his cock, so red and swollen, against your lips. 

You opened your mouth to accommodate him, taking his member slowly at first, thinking it would be better to adjust to its size. After that part was done — and Taehyung had already turned into a quivering mess above you — you proceeded to move your head, sucking his cock as hard as you could muster. 

“That’s right, suck it,” he moaned, buckling his hips forward. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged, presenting Taehyung with one of the most gorgeous views he had seen all night. “Fuck, yeah— Take everything, baby, come on.” 

You did, of course. You continued to suck Taehyung with a moderate pace — not so slow that it would kill him, but not so fast that it would kill you — and watched as he started to become undone under your touches. First, it were his trembling thighs, then the weakening of his grip on his head. You looked up at him with blurry eyes and watched as his lips fell open, moaning obscenities, and his eyes closed with intense concentration. It was just a matter of time before he—

“F-fuck!” 

Taehyung spilled in your mouth and you struggled to swallow everything, just like he had told you to, whining at the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching in between your lips. The discomfort between your thighs had resumed, pulsating inside your core in a silent need, but you didn’t think you’d have the stamina to deal with it right then and there. 

You pulled your head away from his cock when he started wincing with sensitivity. With doll-like eyes, you met his hooded ones, glad to see the satisfaction and appreciation that was plastered all across his face. He always looked so good after sex, you realized, and you felt extremely satisfied to know that his fucked-out, blissful expression was all because of you. 

In a gentle motion, Taehyung placed his thumb on your check, cleaning a bit of his cum, and brought it over to your lips. “You missed this bit,” he said. 

You sucked his thumb clean without thinking twice, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable your knees felt. Above you, Taehyung smirked at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. 

After he removed his thumb from your mouth, you got back to your feet. It crossed your mind that your legs might give out eventually, but, thankfully, they seemed a bit more firm than you had anticipated. “Better?” You asked. 

“Perfect.” Taehyung kissed you, sighing against your mouth. He pulled away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow after everything you two had done. “You always are.” 

“Aw, how nice of you.” You smiled at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. The bathroom was starting to get cold, and the afterglow of sex couldn’t keep you warm for much longer. “Always with the compliments.” 

He hummed in agreement, watching your naked body; your fingers holding that red bra he adored so much. “Any chance I could see you again this week?” 

An incredulous laugh ruptured your lips as you clasped your bra behind your back. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking about the next time?” 

He shrugged. “I like to have a schedule.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Your skirt moved up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as Taehyung fumbled with his own pants, which he now cursed for being inside out. Seems like he was only thoughtful when it came to your wardrobe. “It’s not like we usually know when this stuff is going to happen.” 

There was a slight tremble in your fingertips as you reached for your blouse and placed it back on your body, but you decided to ignore it.

“I guess,” he mumbled. 

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror as you started to close your buttons, somewhat amazed by the fact that it didn’t appear like you just had had sex. Yeah, your hair was all over the place, and maybe your neck was a bit too red in a few spots, but nothing that a bit of time wouldn’t fix. Could’ve been worse. 

“Can you pass me some toilet paper?” You asked him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. There was no way in hell you were going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando wasn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

Taehyung was sitting on the toilet lid, putting his pants back, and simply nodded in agreement before doing so. “I’d like to know, though,” he insisted.

You smiled, taking a cheeky glance at him. “Since when you’re so needy?” 

He groaned. “I’m not needy, shut up” 

“Well… You have my number.” You responded, throwing the paper in the trash after you had finished cleaning yourself up. “Call me whenever you’re feeling like it, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

He pouted, clearly frustrated at the answer. “And what if you can’t make it?”

“Then you have two good hands to help you,” you answered simply, fingers working on adjusting your hair. The sound of his zipper closing echoed inside the cubicle. “Besides.. you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

You threw your red panties at him, watching as his face grew interested at the piece of wet cloth in his hands. Taehyung sighed, tugging his shirt back inside his pants. “You’re killing me,” he complained. 

“Good.” You smiled, turning back at him. “How do I look? Presentable?” 

He examined you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “It doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that's what you’re asking.” 

“Great!” You swirled around, giving the mirror a last peek. You were getting suspiciously good at making it seem like you two never happened. “Have a nice night, Taehyung. Maybe wait like five minutes before leaving the bathroom. And don’t get too excited with the panties.” 

Taehyung got up and walked closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. You were positive he would have fun with it later. “You’re going home already?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you did a good job at making me tired.” The clicking of the lock was a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during that time, so maybe your sexual shenanigans had been overlooked once again. “So don’t worry. I’m in need of a good night of sleep. I’m not spending any time with your horny friends.” 

Taehyung chuckled, leaning closer to you. “I was kind of exaggerating about that Jimin part for dramatic effect, but alright.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Good night. Thanks for the panties.” 

You laughed. “You’re welcome.” 

Just like that, you were out the door, and the moments you had shared in that bathroom with Taehyung had been placed inside a capsule. No one noticed you as you walked through the corridor, past the few strangers still around, and down the stairs, where the party had clearly lost its initial olympian proportions. 

Cups and pieces of paper were thrown all over the floor, and you watched as people stumbled around, trying to find some sort of balance against the walls. No matter how many Hoseok Parties you went to, you were always amazed at the way that they were quick to be set ablaze, but equally quick to burn off. It was like premature ejaculation, in the weirdest and saddest of ways. 

Still, you weren’t expecting to see a recognizable face at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hyejin,” you called, surprised to see your friend around. “Thought you would’ve gone to bed with Hoseok by now.” 

Seeming as dumbfounded as you, she followed your movements as you walked down the terminal steps, finally reaching the first floor of the house. There was a weird shadow of discomfort casted over her features, and you thought it had something to do with Hoseok. “Uh… Not really,”  she told you. “I just want to go home, actually.”

“You and I both.” You placed one of your arms around her shoulder, guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s go, this place has already peaked, anyway.”

She suspired, her lips pouting. “Thanks.” 

A few minutes of silence expanded between the two of you as you walked out of the house and into the front lawn, where a sea of trash had already taken over a few chunks of grass. You didn’t know how or why, but someone had brought an inflatable pool, and there was only one solitary purple dildo swimming in it. What a sad sea creature, you thought, before your attention was pulled back to your friend.

Hyejin switched uncomfortably in your arms, hugging her own body in a way to shield herself from the gelid breeze of the night. You looked at her with care, watching as her face contorted at sight of the street lights, magnifying the odd expression that had taken over her. “Tell me what happened between you two,” you asked tenderly. “You don’t seem too happy about it.” 

Your friend hesitated and, suddenly, you felt bad for pressuring her. At the same time, you were worried that something bad had happened. “Yeah…  so… apparently he thought he was texting a different person,” she told you. You could tell that she was having a hard time speaking. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He said that in front of everyone. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.” 

Suddenly, you recognized that expression as being pure, unshakable humiliation. That must’ve been an ugly moment, really, since Hyejin wasn’t one to break easily. The booze probably didn’t help her emotional state either. 

 “Hyejin, I’m so sorry. He really is a fucking idiot for treating you like that.” You squeezed her body against yours in an awkward sideways hug. She eased into your touch, shoulders falling under the weight of your comforting words. “That really sucks. We can find a way to kill him, if you want. I’d hide the body and never talk about it again.”  

Even if she chuckled at the idea, you could tell she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Yeah… I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.” She cleared her throat, hugging her own body with a bit more force. The car was just a few steps away from the two of you, and you were beyond glad that you had managed to find a spot so close to the house. “Anyways… there’s something else. I went to find you earlier, when it all went down, so we could go home.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt hitting you like a punch in the gut. “Sorry, I was upstairs.” 

“Yeah, I realized that once I didn’t find you,” she continued. Hyejin’s voice was weak, her syllables slightly disconnected. She often spoke like that once intoxication and exhaustion joined in a horrible after-party dance. “I went up and searched around for you, but I… uh…” 

The two of you finally reached the vehicle, and you removed your arm from around her so you could move towards the driver’s side. You frowned at her hesitation, watching her over the roof of the car. “What is it?” You asked. 

“I needed to use the bathroom…” she trailed off. Her tone was almost inaudible. “And I…” 

You opened your purse, squinting your eyes to try and find the car key amidst the dimly-lit street. “And?” 

“The door was locked.” She gawked at you, eyes suddenly growing serious. You didn’t like drunk-Hyejin, with her unstable moods and abrupt expression switches. It was watching a horror movie sometimes. “Because you were in there.” 

Oh, you seriously didn’t want to have that conversation at that moment. 

Finally, you found the key and unlocked the car. The sound was like a gunshot through the night, your pulse starting to pick up the pace. You knew where she was heading towards now, but it’s not like she could be sure that it was you in there. You’d deny until the end of time. 

“What makes you think that it was me?” You questioned, opening the door. 

This time, she didn’t hesitate to respond. “I heard you.”

Oh. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck— 

Keep your cool. It’s okay. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“You don’t?” She started to raise her voice, clearly pissed off. You two were arriving at stage two of drunk Hyejin: past the sad introspection, and into banshee level. “I had to pee on the disgusting bathroom downstairs because you were fucking someone in there! I had to wait twenty minutes in line! And you lied to me! You told me you didn’t have a dick appointment!” 

“Shhh! Stop yelling!” You asked, exasperated. The night was too cold and the streets were too empty. You just wanted to go home before someone heard you. All that it needed was one half-assed comment from Taehyung about him going to the upstairs bathroom, plus someone interested enough to connect the dots, and your little secret would be up. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, okay? Now, please, get in the car, you’re super drunk.”

Before Hyejin could protest, which you were sure she would, you sank down on your seat, running away from her judgemental semblance. The thought of just driving off in sheer panic crossed your mind, but you quickly ignored it. You couldn’t leave her alone in that place, especially in the inebriated state she was in. No matter how much you really, really wanted to. 

Your friend followed your lead and sat down on the passenger seat, watching as you closed your door and checked the mirrors, avoiding her gaze with all your might. She sighed. “I don’t understand… Why didn’t you go somewhere else for that? People need to pee, you know? Or, I don’t know, puke… or maybe even—“ 

You threw your purse on the backseat, sighing in exasperation. That conversation was the last thing you needed after that night. “I don’t think it matters right now—“

“It does matter! I could’ve gotten a urinary tract infection.” Hyejin banged the door by her side, and you could tell she simply wasn’t measuring her force right. She groaned, lazily adjusting her body on the seat. “Now, you have to tell me who it was. It’s the minimum you can do.” 

You almost choked on your own saliva.  She really was out of it. “Like I’d ever do something like that.”

Silence grew thick inside the car, falling above you like a blanket. Hyejin looked at you like you had just grown a second head, making sure that she wasn’t drunk enough to imagine you flat-out denying her an information so valuable. To be fair, it wasn’t like you to avoid questions or keep names from her — at least, not so openly. You knew that she wasn’t dumb, and that she could tell that something was up even in her intoxicated state. 

“You’re really not gonna say?” She tried again, still struggling to keep her speech tied together. It was only a matter of time before she calmed down and fell asleep, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that subject any further. “You almost gave me an UTI, and now you’re not gonna say who you were with? I need to know if it was worth keeping the bathroom all to yourself, because I already told you, someone probably went up there trying to—“ 

“Shit, Hyejin! I get it, you, can stop now.” You clicked your seatbelt with a bit more aggression than necessary. “You’re drunk right now.”

You leaned over her and placed her seatbelt too, since you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. Not with that poor movement precision. 

“And?” She pressed on as you moved back to your seat. “You’re going to tell me once I’m sober or something?”

You laughed, placing one of your hands on the wheel. “No, of course not.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms dramatically and looked out of the window, pouting like a child. “I hate you for not saying.” 

“Well, I love you.” You looked at her, your own gaze navigating towards the window. Beyond the fogged glass, the house glowed in the most diverse colors, the sound of the bass reverberating inside your car like a distant pulse. You watched, heart clenching inside of your chest, as Taehyung stepped out of the front door with Jimin, his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. There was a volume at his front pocket, where you were sure he had tugged in your panties. “But now I think that we should go home and sleep. Let’s keep this conversation on hold.” 

Hyejin, however, wasn’t satisfied. “You know that I’ll find out eventually,” she said, still looking out of the window. “I always do.” 

You chuckled, turning on the engine of the car. On the other side of the street, the two boys took the opposite direction, leaving you two to stare at the open road before you. “Well, I’d love to see you try.”

[danghyuk]

BTS having a tall but timid boyfriend

A/N: Request by: @awkfanboy, this is really long (like 2,6k words oof) and I’m sorry it took ages to finish. ​​

Namjoon:

Namjoon is the tallest member in BTS, and though he’s not used to be the smaller person for once, it’s not a bad thing at all. It’s not before one of his fellow members points it out, that Namjoon starts to notice the slight difference in your heights.

With the slight teasing about how Namjoon isn’t the tallest anymore, especially from the youngest, the older members like Seokjin also starts to hint about and assume your bedroom situation. 

Though Namjoon never comments on it. He’s mature about the teasing and he knows to keep your private matters to himself. In fact, he often refrains himself from smiling due to the rest of the members being so clueless and assuming that your height defines who’s the more dominant. The two of you are not your average heteronormative couple, starting with the both of you not being straight, so why do the same social expectations apply to you in every aspect?

They just continue with the teasing, taking it for granted since Namjoon never says or does anything against their claims. He wants the members to see for themselves rather than correcting them for judging a book by its cover. Because he also assumed that you would take the lead when it came to sex, and Namjoon doesn’t want to appear as a hypocrite. 

So, when he finally introduces you to his fellow band members, he refrains himself from laughing as their expressions one by one changes into pure surprise. None of them can tear their eyes away from the two of you, and being shy, you naturally hide your face into Namjoon’s neck, to which he just smiles and pulls you closer. There’s not really a distinct height difference between the two of you, but it’s still surprising to see your taller and longer frame sitting on Namjoon’s lap. 

Seokjin:

No one, not even Namjoon believes that you – Seokjin’s tall and intimidating boyfriend, are as shy and cute as he describes you as. “What do I have to do, huh? Drag my small baby to meet all of you hyper kids at the same time?” “Hyung, I’m sure [Name] is a lot of things, but small is not one of them…”

It takes a lot, and I mean a lot, of persuasion (and diversity of bribery) from Jin’s side to make you finally accept the fact that you were going to meet them all at once. A pep talk, murmurs of sweet nothings and loving kisses is a big part of it (and it never fails to make you blush, which Seokjin takes great pleasure in – that sadistic bastard).

Seokjin reassures the rest of his bandmates that he under no circumstances was trying to hide you, but then again no one believes that you’re as shy as he makes you out to be. On the other hand, he resonates with you that he wants the most important people in his life to meet. 

On the big day, neither of you can tell who’s the most nervous judging by both of your clammy hands (Seokjin simply refuses to let go of your hand). He steers you right away towards the couch when you’re done taking off your outerwear because he knows for a fact that you’re not going to be left alone for the entire evening. The couch is therefor the perfect limbo, he can press himself into your taller and warmer frame at the same time as the members can join you.

 Meeting them isn’t as chaotic as you thought it would be, and the members (especially the younger ones) are perplexed, which quickly turns to giddiness. They do not pry much (thanks to Jin’s warning looks and Yoongi’s sharp elbow into Jeongguk’s stomach), but their curious eyes bulge every time your cheeks flush due to Seokjin’s flirty antics, and whenever your hand unconsciously searches for Seokjin’s calming touch. By the end of the day, your boyfriend is wearing a permanent smirk and your ears have never felt warmer due to Seokjin ‘accidentally showing off the long scratch marks on his back. 

Yoongi: 

Yoongi can be blunt when he wants to, not to mention honest, but there are some aspects of his private life he values too much. One of those being you, of course. The other members know he has a boyfriend of some sort; however, they are rather bad at getting any type of information out of him. Jimin and Seokjin are the nosiest, being two different menaces – one nagging and one too curious for his own good.

From what they have gathered, they know that you are younger than Yoongi and that’s about it. Despite Yoongi rarely opening up when it comes to the boyfriend topic, he does sometimes slip up. Like that one time you changed his lock screen to the two of you and he forgot to change it back.

Despite his fellow band members constantly begging him to introduce you to them, Yoongi declines every time with no room for any argument. What his members don’t know is his reasons for not wanting to introduce you to them just yet. Even after being together for almost four months, you’re still extremely shy and nervous around large groups of people, especially nosy ones. BTS is exactly that and because they’re considered as his second family, he just knows you will be way more nervous meeting them and to give them a good impression of yourself. 

When they do meet you, it is just by accident and poor miscalculations. Yoongi had texted you earlier to come over and with a clear signal that the dorm was empty except him. However, it is not your boyfriend who opens the door for you when you arrive. Jimin, who wasn’t expecting anyone, mirrors your shocked expression as you both stare at each other for a while. He figures out who you are immediately seeing as Yoongi was everything but subtle when he pulled you after him in a hurried manner towards his room, and he doesn’t waste a single second to text everyone about his discovery. 

When the rest of the members arrive back home, they are met with a pretty funny and slightly pathetic sight. You, a 190cm tall male, trying your best to hide behind your much smaller boyfriend. Your much taller form next to the smallest idols in BTS is a sight to take in. Just like Jimin, all of them are shocked by your height, but also how you behave around Yoongi. With looks as sharp as knives from Yoongi, no one dares to look at the two of you too long nor ask the question at the tip of everyone’s tongue. This lasts until Yoongi, by accident again, manages to tug your sweater down and expose your hickey covered throat. 

Hoseok:

When Hoseok starts to date you, everybody knows it. Before they have even met you, BTS knows what your favourite colour is, how you look when you sleep and how many plants you have. He can’t particularly help it since you’re his favourite topic and honestly, everyone is rather amazed at him not having exposed your relationship. The weird thing, which Yoongi pinpoints every time you are brought up in a conversation, is that they have yet to meet you.

Being constantly reminded by the other’s and not having a good answer as to why they haven’t met you, makes them slightly annoyed. You are already a huge part of Hoseok’s life and it’s not hard to see how much you affect him in every aspect. A single text from you can make his entire day and he wears the same dreamy smile whenever he returns from a date with you. 

There’s nothing else Hoseok wants to do other than introduce you to them, but he respects your comfort zone and takes your feelings into consideration. If you don’t feel ready meeting them, then he’ll wait for you 100%. You’re his adorable boyfriend after all, even with your taller and bigger build, he adores how easy he can make you flush and writhe underneath him.

“Yah! When are you going to introduce your boyfriend to us?” “Soon, I hope. He’s just… really shy.” Whenever Hoseok uses that specific word to describe you, the others have a hard time believing him due to his other stories about you. Luckily, they do not have to wait long before you agree to meet them all.

The first introduction goes like dream, except for the many times you hit your head in the door frames. They are all in awe of your height, whether they voice it out loud or not (like Taehyung asking you if he could get a piggyback ride). Some of them feel slightly guilty for not believing the rapper earlier, though those feelings are quickly brushed away by their curiosity. How come someone so tall has a personality resembling that of a fragile flower? Another thing they learn, to their surprise, is Hoseok’s new favourite hobby – teasing you until you’re hiding in his embrace.

Jimin: 

The first thing Jimin had noticed when he saw you was your undeniable height, but it wasn’t what drew him towards you. He can’t deny that you look absolutely stunning, with your long legs wrapped in skinny jeans or slacks that make your figure seem as if you’re sculpted by the gods, but he simply can’t enough of your flushed cheeks and you averting your eyes whenever the two of you lock eyes for more than five seconds.

He simply thrives on how completely different you are compared to your looks. Even though he is the smallest in BTS and is relentlessly teased for it, he has absolutely no problem standing at the tip of his toes just to whisper something dirty in your ear, kiss your nape or just tug you down by your collar to meet your lips in a deep kiss. 

Because of Jimin’s never-ending PDA, you’ve gotten quite used to being showered in affection and more used to ignore prying looks, though you can’t stop yourself from blushing whenever he decides he wants to kiss you. And you just know he does it on purpose, that’s a no-brainer because your boyfriend will always, without a doubt, burst out in a cute high-pitched giggle every single time he manages to make you hide behind your own hands. 

Jimin is pretty quick to introduce you to his friends and the first thing they immediately point out are your ridiculous differences in height as if you weren’t aware of it yourselves. Your boyfriend is used to comments like that, but you aren’t and causes you to step behind Jimin- using him as a shield. You’re practically digging your own grave by trying to hide behind your boyfriend, BTS are ruthless and they tease you even more after laughing at your attempt at hiding. 

BTS thinks it’s cute how the two of you compliment yet contrast each other in your relationship. With your tall build and shy nature, it’s easy to imagine your personality as cold and stoic, so, until now you’ve done nothing but turning the other member’s expectations upside down. They still can’t phantom the image of you turning towards Jimin for permission someone asks you to do something or join them. 

Taehyung:

Like Namjoon, he isn’t really aware of height until he has a hard time kissing you, messing with your hair or jumping at your back for you to carry him. He also tends to forget how tall you actually are because he is a rather spontaneous and impulsive person. It doesn’t bother him even if he has to ask you to bend down time after time, Taehyung just huffs in fake annoyance and simply tugs your head downwards.

Due to your own awkward and timid personality, you feel bad whenever he has to ask you to bend down. Taehyung thinks you’re being ridiculous when you tell him and shows you just how hot he thinks your taller frame really is. That certain event made Taehyung realise in which direction your relationship was establishing and unfolding, and he realised how little he cared whether you took control or not.

The discovery makes him more aware of your sheepish habits and your reserved way of accepting his affections. From how your neck would turn darker whenever he does something you really like or display your relationship – to how you would try to make yourself smaller next to him in the public (he always scolds you for doing so because he’s worried about your posture). 

The two of you have spun your own net of habits around you and your relationship, which you often are unaware of, but when you meet his bandmates, they’re a little thrown off at how you and Taehyung’s dynamics work. You are completely used to your boyfriend making the decisions and don’t think much of it until the rest of BTS, especially Jimin and Hoseok, catch on to who’s really in charge. 

Suddenly you find yourself in the middle of a sexual innuendos and joke battle, and your face feeling as if it’s on fire does anything but defuse the situation. Even after getting Taehyung to save you and sitting in his lap, it’s Seokjin and Jeongguk’s turn to laugh seeing as you’re trapping your smaller boyfriend between you and the couch. Having the build like an intimidating basketball player doesn’t help your case when a little kiss makes into a stuttering and flustered mess. 

Jeongguk:

Your height is something Jeongguk was jealous of originally before you got together and before he knew that your ‘tall, mysterious and handsome’ appearance is you being too reserved for socialising in large groups of people. Now he just relishes and finds pride in being able to push you down on your couch, bed, floor, whatever to start a heavy makeout session, knowing you love it as much as he does.

He loves to show you off to everyone, everywhere. “Look at my boyfriend, isn’t he gorgeous?” “He’s legit a tree, Jeongguk, but sure.” Having him constantly spewing out compliments and bragging left and right, doesn’t help your shy persona at all and makes you pull out of social interactions more often than not.

Thus, portraying yourself as unapproachable and standoffish to others. BTS has a hard time warming up to you since the first few introductions were brief and pretty awkward for both parts. Even though they’re all impressed by your height, it just adds to your ‘tough guy’ image. Jeongguk doesn’t give up however and tries harder to include you in the group activities. 

Whenever you try to excuse yourself or go somewhere quieter, your boyfriend hurries to pull you back in even if he has to haul your tall ass over his shoulder. It’s quite the sight to see the youngest member dragging his way taller boyfriend after him as if he has no worries. Your flushed expression makes them ponder a bit before they all realise the same. Seokjin even apologies for not being the most welcoming, they just found you slightly intimidating, and of course, that makes you even more flustered as you accept their apology. 

After the big revelation, Jeongguk’s friends watch your interactions with your boyfriend wide-eyed, disappointed in themselves for not having noticed your constant flustered expressions, how you seem to lean on Jeongguk and the fact that it’s the youngest BTS member who initiates all physical contact like kissing you and placing his hands on your thighs. The two of you fit together like a puzzle even if some stereotypical roles are reversed. 

[userholland]

all for her [4]

pairing: bartender!dad!tom x female!reader

summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?

word count: 10.2k!

a/n: it’s been more than a month... again... but i really hope you guys enjoy the bow to tie this series together. i do apologize this was more dad!tom than it was bartender!tom... i wish i got to spend so much more time on it with school going on, but i’m really proud of it!!! and i’m so grateful and happy for all the feedback i’ve gotten on it. thank y’all so much and your support means so much for my love for writing! if you want a epilogue, please let me know!

— masterlist ☆彡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

There was something about the morning that was so peaceful. The warm light of the sun peered through the curtains and trailed onto the duvet and part of your arm, moving across your body until it beamed in your tired eyes. Your hair had a musty smell from the rain last night, not having the energy to shower after what happened. You ran your hand over Tom’s side of the bed, the cotton sheets soft against your palm until you pressed your weight onto it to lift yourself up.

The cracks in your back echoed the room, running your fingers through your hair to push it out of your face before putting it up to not be overwhelmed by the smell. As you stretched the rest of your body, you slid over the sheets until your toes hit the cold wooden floor. You got a jolt up your spine before grabbing Tom’s grey sweatshirt on the back of his desk chair, quickly slipping it over your body to warm up from the chilliness of the fall. You could tell winter was upon you, excited to get a light blanket of snow soon.

When you walked over to the dresser, your hands held on each of the drawer handles about to pull until you took a second look at the picture set on the top. A small smile painted on your lips, reminiscing the fond memory like the picture was moving in real life. It was Summer’s first snowfall and despite her name, she loved the winter. 

You bought her a big, pink coat with gloves dangled by end of the sleeves that paired with a knitted hat that covered her ears. The three of you were stood outside of the apartment and propped the camera on a window seal as the big flurries fell. With Summer on Tom’s shoulders, you stood close to him and wore his denim jacket and black beanie. Tom liked to keep it, remembering it was one of the first times his life felt whole again since he was gifted with Summer.

After brisking through Tom’s top drawer, not believing how he didn’t organize his socks, you found white, crew socks and slipped them on before walking to the door and carefully turned the doorknob. The sounds of chirping birds could be heard from behind the windows in the living room and no honking cars to wake up the neighborhood, as if everything had fallen back into it’s perfect place.

Summer’s door was cracked open, enough that when you peaked in, you could see her and Tom snuggled on her twin bed. It made Tom look bigger than he was, seeing the pink duvet covering them and his arms were wrapped around her. You were happy to see them together, better than having to walk past an empty room again and Tom asleep on the couch.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

She sobbed when she got home, relieved to be home and she missed Tom so much. Her arms were tight around his neck and her legs were squeezing around his waist, so it was almost impossible for him to put her down. With her head tucked in his shoulder, the somber cries she whimpered broke his heart as they walked into the apartment. At first they sat on the couch and he ran his hand over her damp hair till it air-dried, forgetting that it was in the middle of the night and all of you needed to go to bed.

“Daddy, can you sleep with me? Please.” Summer asked, her voice so innocent and tired.

“Of course. Of course…” Tom trailed, kissing her temple and rubbing her back. His tears wouldn’t stop either, trailing down his cheeks as he continued to embrace her while they sat together.

They were parted for a month, but it felt like years to them.

“I’m gonna warm up some clothes for her and give her bath, okay?” You put your hand on Tom’s shoulder, rubbing it as he nodded in response.

Summer instantly attached to you when you pulled her away from Tom, uncoiling her arms from his touch and she held you like she was hanging in mid-air. You carried her to the bathroom, closing the door behind the two of you. After wrapping her casted arm in saran wrap and a plastic bag, you helped her get in the bath then shampooed her hair gently and gave her rag to wash up. 

She was getting older now, wanting to already be more independent, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t drown if she fell asleep or hit her head on the side of the tub. With her small eyes heavy and body like jello, you were careful with her as she yawned every two minutes. Her sniffling made your heart tremble, but you’re relieved that she just had your number and was able to call. You admired how smart she was and couldn’t believe she was growing up so fast.

After warming her favorite pajamas in the dryer, you helped her change in her bedroom and combed through her wet hair with a comb. She was sat on the bed, but her eyes kept fluttering at the relaxing feeling of the brush massaging against her scalp. Putting some fuzzy socks on her feet, you tucked her into bed. The whole time, Tom had to stay in the living room trying to compose himself, his hands pressed against his temples and his head down. 

You carefully closed Summer’s door, but not all the way, just so the hall light didn’t peak in. When you walked over and saw Tom, you slowly approached him and squated down to be face to face with him. Tom had his hands on his face, still unable to process everything that happened. His clothes were soaked and his hair was wet, but you still ran your hands through it to comfort him.

“Hey… she’s okay. She’s already asleep.” You reassured him, placing your hand on his knee.

Tom lifted his head, his eyes were red around the waterline and the whites of them were bloodshot. Your thumb gently ran on his tinted cheek, sealing your lips as you waited for him to say anything.

“I don’t know what to do.” He sniffed, running his hand over his wet curls, slicking them back.

Your eyes glossed, “What do you mean? Tom, she’s back home.”

Tom sniffled, his wrist against his nose to rub off his tears and his hand trembling, “Yeah, but, w-what if this isn’t enough? What if she… is taken again? What happens then?” His breath shaky, already overwhelmed.

Your heart kept breaking, seeing him fall even more apart. “You got her, she’s here now. There’s nothing else you need to do other than go in there because all she wants right now is her dad. Okay?” You softly told him, running your hand along his knee.

“I just can’t lose her again.”

You shook your head, “No, no, You won’t. You won’t and I’ll tell you that a thousand times more. You love her and no matter what happens, you’re gonna find a way. We’re gonna find a way.”

Tom nodded, your foreheads gently pressed together before you cupped his cheek, your lips trembling as they planted a light kiss on his nose and trailed to his lips. You felt Tom’s hand place on the back of your hair, raking his fingers through it as you nuzzled your face into his neck with your arms wrapped around him. Both of you sniffled, complete messes, but you had to pull yourselves together for Summer and be there for her now that she was home.

“Get changed then get some sleep, okay?” You told him, getting back on your feet and reaching a hand out to him. After he lifted up on his feet, you playfully pushed his back as he started walking away. A sigh of relief left your lips as you plopped on the couch, taking some time to come down from the adrenaline as well. It could be compared to the end of a classic symphony, when the cymbals rhythmic banging and high notes of the violins all come to a halt followed by the final boom of the drums. It was all over.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The warm sunshine beamed against the pale yellow walls of Summer’s room when you peaked in. You glared at the two of them in their still slumber, not wanting to disturb them this early so you carefully closed the door. You held the doorknob to the left, slowly letting it go until you heard the click of the the bolt.

Tom wasn’t able to tell you the conversation last night between him and Maggie, but it didn’t feel important since he was able to have Summer back. While you spited her and wanted to hate her, you didn’t want to butt your life into his past. You knew that if it really bothered Tom, he would tell you, but all that mattered was that your girl was home and you both couldn’t have been happier about it.

An hour later, Tom appeared from the bedroom with Summer on his hip. With her head rested on his shoulder and a pout on her lips, you chuckled as you admired their mirrored, tired expressions.

“The resemblance is uncanny.” You jeered, leaning with your back toward the counter with a cup of tea in your hands.

Tom’s lazy smile was angelic, a half-grin on his lips before he pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

“Good morning, babe.” He said in a groggy tone.

“Morning.” You grinned, smiling and running your hand gently over the top of Summer’s hair, “She must be exhausted. We’re you both able to sleep at all last night?”

“Yeah, but I think she can skip school today. I’ll call in a few minutes... I wanna stay here for the rest of the day with her or at least, until I have work.” Tom said at a whisper, setting Summer on the couch and she stirred in her light sleep. He placed the blanket on the arm of the sofa over her body, tucking it between her and the couch to keep her warm.

“I think that’s great. It was a long night for her.” You sighed as Tom walked back over to you, “God, I can’t get her voice out of my head when I heard her on the phone... When she asked for us to come pick her up, I panicked and I just-”

“You did the right thing, babe. I got it all taken care of… well, at least a bit right now… Crap, I almost forget, I have to make sure her follow up appointment for her arm is next Wednesday.” Tom comforted you, rubbing your shoulders before his hands cupped your face. He left another kiss on the center of your forehead before he sat at the kitchen table. You set a cup of tea infront of him and he wrapped his hand around the mug handle, bringing it to his lips and the strong scent of lemon waking him up.

You placed your cup on the counter, wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck from behind, still stood while he relaxed his back against the chair.

“Is your dad gonna call later?” You asked him, kissing the top of his head and laying your cheek against his hair.

He nodded as he took another sip, “Yeah, we’re gonna talk about the lawyer stuff. Maybe I can ask him what I can do about… Summer and dealing with custody.” Tom said, a bit unsure with a furrowed brow.

His hand gently came up, rubbing your forearm as you still had your arms around him. His thumb smoothly ran over your soft skin as you leaned your head down, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“We’ll figure it all out.” You whispered against his ear, “And if all else fails, we’ll move to Europe and change our identities.”

Tom’s chuckle erupted, his smile gleaming as he bought the palm of your hand up to kiss.

“You know, I need your jokes sometimes. Just to realize how much you hold me down.” Tom jeered, but meant what he said.

As you unwound your arms from him, your hand ran across his shoulders before you looked down at him and tilted his chin up. Everything about him was taken with time, his eyes were a beautiful shade of brown and the features in his face were carved in perfectly. You loved the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled wide or laughed hard, remembering it was one of the reasons you loved to make him laugh.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Ready to be back in dad mode?” You grinned, rubbing his back.

“As much as I can be.”

With that, you turned around and his eyes followed you down the hall. From the way you stood on your tippy toes to reach the top shelf for linens and how you put your tongue between your lips, he could list a million different reasons to be in love with you. He couldn’t have found a fatal flaw other than being too nice when it wasn’t necessary. You had so much love to give and Tom had known that since you were kids, thinking about the times you left animal crackers by the weeping willow by the playground at school. You’d hope the fun-shaped crackers would give it some nutrients, making it not be sad anymore and Tom, only nine years old, didn’t have the heart to tell you that squirrels would steal them.

That attitude hadn’t changed as you got older, always seeing you pull through your worst and most stressful times. Especially throughout college, Tom had tried to be as much as he could to be your best friend without letting his feelings shift platonic affection. He didn’t expect you to stay around much when Summer appeared on his doorstep, wondering if you would push away from the sudden commitment he took on. But, he laid down one day and realized it wasn’t like you to keep your distance when something this drastic happened. What he didn’t know is that you were all in from the start. Since the day you met until right here and right now, you weren’t leaving each other no matter what or who tried to come between you.

As Tom finished his tea and you were in the shower, Summer slowly stirred out of her sleep and got up from the couch. In her matching, lavender pajamas, she pushed her hair out of her face before walking up to Tom. He chuckled at her lazy daze, but he opened his arms and she crawled into them to sit on his lap.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He chuckled, kissing her temple repeatedly.

“Good morning, daddy.” She mumbled and wiped her eyes with the back of her non-casted hand.

“What are we feeling this morning? Cereal? Pancakes? Maybe that oatmeal you like, the cinnamon and apples flavor?” Tom asked her, wanting to spoil her with anything he could.

“Can I have pears with cinnamon, please?” Summer asked, looking into her father’s eyes.

Tom lifted her as he stood up, “Of course, you can. Whatever your little heart desires.” He smiled, placing her in the chair and kissing the top of her messy hair.

When he walked over to the fruit bowl by the corner of the kitchen counter, Summer shifted to sitting on her knees with her elbows against the table so she could watch Tom make her breakfast.

“Daddy?” She asked, her voice so benevolent.

“Yes?” Tom replied with his back still toward her.

“Do I have to go back there? To the lady’s house? Because… I don’t wanna go back there. That lady was mean and I didn’t like her.” She summarized, tracing her short and tiny fingers along the wood of the kitchen table.

Tom turned around, pausing his chopping and he didn’t know what to say in the first few seconds.

“You never have to go back there unless you want to, okay? I promise you. We keep our promises, remember?” Tom reminded her with a soft tone.

“You promised I didn’t have to stay there, but you left me there.” She pouted, not making eye contact with him.

A chill ran up his spine, this conversation worrying him since the day he dropped her off and made that unforeseen promise. The first promise he didn’t know he would break. He didn’t want to lie to her, but even with the sake of that being for Maggie’s benefit, he still knew he lied. Tom presumed Summer would forget that he promised not to leave her there, remembering how assured she was it was just a weekend, but it had been a month and Tom wondered what went through her mind now.

“I know, sweetheart… but, I promise. You’re here for good.” Tom walked back over and she finally looked up at him, her eyes glassy.

“Okay, daddy.” She muttered, but he had to hug her. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to second guess everything and get too comfortable before something worse could happen.

“I love you, kid.” Tom said, kissing the top of her head again.

After Tom gave Summer her breakfast, she could barely keep her head up to bring the fork to her mouth. He knew she was overtired from the night before, so he brought her back to the couch to rest and leave on some cartoons at a low volume. He laid down too, of course, her on top of him and her head was against his chest. Oddly, she laid flat against him and she was stiff as a board, her hair in her face and her mouth slightly gapped. A few times she’d twitch in her sleep and it made Tom nervous, thinking something was wrong, but it was his heightened protectiveness and he knew he couldn’t keep remaining on edge about her being taken away again. It was hard to not think that now, but Tom knew once she got used to the feeling of home again, everything will go back to normal. Blood or not, she was his daughter and he was her father and no one could take that away from them.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

A few hours pass and Tom expected a call from his dad any second so, he suggested that you and Summer go out for a bit to avoid the conversation. After she got dressed and you put on her jacket, the two of you got your shoes on by the door. Summer sat on the ground, grabbing the black and white converses off the shoe rack and carefully used the bunny ears technique on her laces.

“Loop… loop and pull.” She mumbled, pulling at the thread coils.

As you slipped on your sneakers, Tom walked out from the bathroom and smiled at Summer sat, her face contorting as she concentrated on the knot.

“Daddy, look, I did it!”

“Good job, kid!” He chuckled, helping her on her feet, “So, did you and Y/N find out what you’re gonna do?”

“We’re gonna see the duckies!” She giggled and you nodded to her statement.

“Ah, sounds like fun. I wish I could come, but maybe this weekend. We can go after your doctor’s appointment.” Tom proposed and Summer nodded frantically, her hair bouncing and moving around.

You grinned, “Alright, we’re gonna go. You need anything while we’re out?”

Tom’s eyes gleamed at the sight of your smile, “No, I’m good.”

“Okay, We’ll see you soon.” You grin, giving him a light kiss.

Summer giggled to herself before she grabbed your hand, leading the way out the door. Tom chuckled before he shut the door behind you and he sighed, starting to feel the pieces fall back together. Throughout the time Summer was away, he didn’t realize in the moment how you stayed. It was just that simple and even imagining the future, he saw your face. Everything between you two had lead up to this moment and he knew it in his heart that there was a reason for something bringing the both of you together. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was mutual or he’d let too many movies get to his head, but somehow fate seemed in his favor. He wished he could have changed some things to please others with the bridges he’s burnt through his life and with his family, but he wouldn’t change his entire life if it didn’t have you or Summer in it.

As you strolled to the park, you couldn’t stop smiling as you talked to Summer. She went on about how she wanted to make Christmas cookies already and how many people had signed her cast, almost no room to even squeeze in another. She was an extrovert by heart, just like her dad and how charismatic he could be once he opens up. You held her hand when you crossed streets and you followed her close when you wondered around the market to get the bread to feed the ducks. After checking out, you two walked to your favorite park, the one she missed so much, to the bench you always sat at that was a few feet away from the pond.

“That one’s name is… Marty.” She said, squatting by the edge of the grass.

You were sat in the grass with your legs crossed, “And that one’s name?” You pointed to the duck with a white tail.

“...Allen.” She giggled, tossing another piece of bread in the water.

You chuckled, “And which one is your favorite?”

“I like Dorothy and Duke because they’re a couple.” She said as she ripped up another piece of bread.

“How do you know they’re together?”

“Because they kiss sometimes. They love each other, just like you and daddy.” Summer replied, looking at the bread as she bunched it up and threw it in the water.

A heat rose to your cheeks, “I guess you’re right.” You chuckled a bit as you watched her keep throwing the bread, watching the ducks swoop it up with their beaks as they passed by.

She turned to you, “Y/N.”

“Summer.” You smiled.

“Are you and my daddy gonna get married? You guys kiss now and people who get married kiss too.” She said in her explanation of what love was to her.

“Well… We’re together now, but we’re not getting married.” You tried to explain in a soft tone, wanting her to understand.

“But, I want you to be my mommy.” She squinted her eyes looking toward you because the sun was in her eyes, her nose scrunched as well.

You sighed, “I’m your best friend and I’m always gonna be here for you.” You could promise her that much, but you didn’t want to say what you really thought, not wanting her to get an permanent image in her head.

She pouted, but didn’t respond at first. It’s like she was gathering her thoughts together before saying what was on her mind.

“I hate that lady I stayed with. She was mean and didn’t tell me bedtime stories.” She mumbled as she sat with you, gently pulling at the grass.

You nodded, “You don’t hate her.”

“I did! She was mean. She’s not my mommy. She’s like the evil queen in Snow White.” She protested, her eyes widening as her voice emphasized.

“Summer, she’s your mom.” You sighed.

“Cinderella’s mommy was mean.” She pointed out.

It almost made you chuckle at how persistent she was, but nevertheless, you told her, “Well, you don’t have to see her until you want to, okay? Your dad isn’t gonna let that happen again, neither will I.”

Summer got up, pushing her hands against the grass before she moved closer to you. She rested her head against your shoulder as she coiled her arm around yours, holding you tight as the two of you watched the ducks float by, some of them swimming alongside their ducklings. The light breeze kept you cool, blowing your hair out of your face, and the kids laughing as they ran around.

Meanwhile, Tom was pacing the kitchen with his phone practically glued to his ear. His dad told him about his options, laying out the routes they could take for this settlement to be as easy as it could be without there being any loopholes. With Tom’s bruises healing, he still had to go to follow up appointments for his concussion and his dad thinks it’s enough to let Tom be heard by the judge.

His court appearance was coming up, but Tom’s dad would come with him to make sure everything went as they were planning. It was nice to feel connected to his dad again, maybe not under these circumstances, but he felt supported again and maybe he was all this time. Tom’s anger had masked that his dad did genuinely care for him, it was his stepmom’s doing that wedged them apart and Tom was still trying to figure out how to deal with her, but he wanted to maintain his relationship with his dad as well as try to mend the shifty one with his mom.

“So, we’ll meet at the courthouse on the 20th, 10a.m.” Tom stated.

His dad nodded, “Sounds good to me.”

Tom chuckled, “Thanks so much… for everything.”

“I’m your dad, you don’t have to thank me. If you did, it would be your first words.” His dad jeered, sitting back in his office chair.

“Yeah…” Tom trailed, “Hey, are you guys doing… anything big for Thanksgiving?”

His dad was surprised, his eyebrows raised as he replied, “Uh, yeah. Have a few friends over, maybe your uncle Ted and Aunt Lorriane. There’s always room for more.” His dad smiled.

“Well, I was thinking that, maybe, me and Y/N came come… and Summer, of course.” Tom gulped, tucking his hand under his other arm as he leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, we’d love to have you. Of course, we’d love to have you.” His dad was surprised by how open-minded Tom was becoming.

“I think it would be great after… all this. You know? And I want you guys to meet Y/N.” Tom shrugged.

“We’d love that too… how are things with her after everything?” Tom’s dad followed up, smiling to himself.

Tom bit his bottom lip, “She’s been so… supportive. It’s crazy how supportive she’s been… I don’t think I could have gotten through all of this without her. She’s always been there for Summer and… I think I want her in my life forever.” He chuckled, finally admitting it out loud and even surprising himself.

Tom’s dad chuckled, “You sound pretty serious.”

“I really am… I’m gushing, but I don’t think I could have gotten through any of this if I didn’t have her.” Tom trailed, tracing his finger along the table.

“Well it’s nice to have someone have your back through something tough like this and she’s a nice girl… and Summer is comfortable with her?”

“Yeah, they’re actually hanging out at the park right now.”

His dad smiled to himself for a few seconds, turning in his chair to face his desk, “I remember when your mom and I met, it was the year before you were born.

Tom arched his eyebrow, “Wow, you guys got married that… fast?”

“Yeah, yeah. I took the morning train to this internship I had in Massachusetts. When I had to get home, she worked at the ticketing booth for a few weeks, but I thought she was cute so… instead of getting one of those reusable cards, I just went to her every night for the train back home. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I kept asking for a ticket that went the opposite way of where I actually lived.”

“Sappy.” Tom chuckled, surprised and not knowing this. He realized he never really asked since his parents had been separated more years than they were together.

“Once I told her, we went on a few dates, I got a card and… we got married six months later, I think. Then, we had you less than a year later.”

“But, didn’t you guys… miss out on just being in your twenties?” Tom replied, biting the inside of his cheek.

His dad shrugged, the memories all surging in at once, “Well, we knew we loved each other… at the time. We would have rather gotten married then and figured out if we were meant to be than to not do it at all, I guess… and we got a great kid out of it.”

A smile curled up on Tom’s lips, surprised by how his dad felt about his mom or at least how they used to feel about one another. He always imagined that they lived an ordinary lives, pretending that they used to be in love when they don’t talk unless it’s through Tom. He knew there was probably more to their story, but from what he just heard now, Tom believed that there’s a reason for you in his life more than co-parenting or being his best friend. There’s a reason why you’re still together throughout all this. Why it took so long to realize that he loved you more than “just platonic”. You had faith in each other.

“I’m sure your mom remembers it more than me, but we had fun.” His dad added, clicking his pen.

“Yeah, I should probably call her soon. I don’t even know where she is.”

“Paris… I talked to her the other day about the whole… well, your situation and I didn’t want to say anything but, she was thinking of surprising you... She wanted to take time off because of what I told her..” Tom’s dad spilled.

Tom felt his face heart up from the sudden announcement, “Well, that’s mom.”

“She’ll be excited to know everything’s going okay, I’m sure.”

Tom smiled, “Yeah… everything’s perfect.”

After the lengthy conversation Tom had with his dad, they eventually hung up and there was a silence that fell in the apartment. Instead of feeling the loneliness he did for those few weeks, he was anticipated for you two to come home and all three of you could have dinner, maybe talk about what your plans were for Thanksgiving and Christmas. There was so much he looked forward to now, even more so now that he was assured that you were the one for him, but he was scared that there was some chance he wasn’t the one for you. It’s not like favors worked for him through life, so it was easy to be skeptical about this, but all that mattered was the risk of taking a shot and trying not to let the universe get to him.

His wandering thoughts paused when the front door unlocked, already seeing Summer slipping through and she practically jumped into Tom’s arms while he was still sat down. She crawled on top of him and she wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms wrapped around her as well.

“How was the park?” He chuckled, glancing at you coming in.

You set your purse and Summer’s backpack on the wall hooks, “Good, saw the duckies and even some turtles… and we named each one of them.” You grinned, walking over and leaning against the counter.

“You should have come, daddy! There were so many!” Summer giggled, her loose tooth crooked on the front, bottom teeth.

“Ah, well, they’ll be there tomorrow and the day after that and even the day after that. We can go next week too, kid.” He grinned and she hugged him tight, leaning on him and their faces pressed together. Tom felt the instant warmth Summer radiated, even if it was cold outside.

“Promise?” She asked.

“Pinky swear.” He said, holding out his hand with his fingers tucked into his hand with just his pinky out.

She held hers out, carefully wrapping it around his and he chuckled, giving her a quick eskimo kiss before Summer crawled off of him.

“Hey, why don’t you wash your hands… make sure you don’t get water in the cast. Then, we can have an early dinner in front of the TV. How does that sound?” Tom suggested and you nodded in agreement.

“Okay, daddy.” Summer nodded back, her eyes sparkling and she took off into the bathroom. You two heard her take the stool out, the wood shifting against the tiled bathroom before the sink turned on.

Tom turned to you as he got up, a warm smile painted on his lips as he stood toe to toe with you.

“Why are you smiling so much? Good news, I assume.” You grinned, crossing your arms and leaning more against the counter.

“I can’t smile at my beautiful and lovely girlfriend?” Tom swooned.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he ran his hands down your side before placing them on your hips. You couldn’t hide your smile either, leaning in without thinking twice about it and brushing your nose against his. As your lips pressed together, slowly and tenderly, his hands slid into the back pockets of your jeans to pull you closer. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, nothing too harsh, but you could feel his warmth curling around you, squeezing your body gently and feeling this instant sense of complete comfortable.

You giggled against his lips, pulling away and he slightly tilted his head, moving your stray hair behind your ear to see your face. The two of you didn’t need words when every piece seemed to be falling back into place.

“Okay, my hands are clean!” Summer yelled from the bathroom, making you two break your kiss with more laughter. She ran from the bathroom and into the kitchen, running up to Tom and leaning on his leg.

Tom smiled as he leaned down, wrapping his arm around Summer’s torso and pulled her up as if she weighed like nothing. Her giggles sent him happiness, ever since she was a baby and could only wrap her hand around his finger. She sat on his hip, coiled around her dad like adhesive and you couldn’t help but grin and rub her back.

“Can we have mac and cheese?” She asked Tom.

“You can have whatever your little heart desires, kid.” Tom kissed her temple, setting her back down.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” Tom promised, his hand tickling her stomach and a warm burst of laugh left her mouth.

Her sneakers touched the floor, watching her run to the cabinet with the pots and pans. As you watched them collect what they needed to start dinner, their voices seemed to fade away, like they were in another room and a wall stood tall between. A muffling to their tones as they stood in front of the stove, but you leaned by the kitchen door frame with your arms crossed. You were happy, more than over the moon to see Summer back where she belonged, but how long would it be until another conflict arose? What if Tom couldn’t claim custody… would he crumble again and you would have to help him pick up the pieces all over again? If he wasn’t her biological father, where did that leave you? You wanted what was best for the both of them, but you didn’t want it to lead to arguments and more confusion for her if she couldn’t even stand her own mother.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Tossing and turning, the mattress creaked beneath you while trying to fall asleep. Your brows furrowed, trying to settle your head into the pillow but it was like trying to slumber on a rocky sea. You laid your back flat once you gave up, staring at the ceiling with the strip of light from the streetlight outside. It’s like you could hear anything from a five-mile radius, suddenly you picked up on the tiniest sound and it was like someone poking your neck with a needle. Trying to drown out the noises, you heard the deadbolt unlock from the creak you left in the door. You felt frozen, hearing the keys drop on the table by the door. 

Tom sighed, a long breath passing his lips as he run his hands through soft, brown curls. The clock on the wall told 2:45 a.m., not expecting to stay out this late, but he was making such good tips that it would have been silly to leave. As he entered the bedroom, his tired brown eyes laid on you, under the covers. His hand dug into his back pocket, pulling out the wad of dollar bills and placing them on the dresser.

You still closed your eyes, hearing his belt buckle unclip and the dressers open, his hands rummaging through some of his clothes. You wondered if you should say something, anything, knowing your mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, enough that it couldn’t let you go to sleep.

The weight lifted off Tom’s sore feet, his body sinking into the bed as he carefully shifted himself under the covers, trying not to wake you. With your back turned to him, Tom got comfortable and warm with the duvet insulating him, moving his hands under his head. Silence fell in the room, nothing but the crickets chirping in the night.

You slowly turned on your other side, facing Tom with your face snug against your pillow. Seeing him made you forget all of those heavy thoughts, the ones about him and your future, but you couldn’t just make it go away from the sight of his pretty eyes.

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?” His voice groggy.

“No, I’ve been up for a while..” You trailed, your hands by your chest.

“What’s keeping you up?”

Tom turned on his side, his hand against his head as his elbow pushed into the pillow.

You sighed, “You know I love you, right?” You sealed your lips, trying to keep eye contact with him.

He chuckled, crinkles by the sides of his eyes, “I love you too… What’s going on?”

Tom’s fingers moved your hair from your forehead, his hand planting to your cheek and his thumb brushing against your cheek, “What’s going through your head, babe?” He asked, his voice always comforting.

You placed your hand on top of his, moving your intertwined hands to your chest, “Whatever happens with Summer, I want you to know that… I’m there for you. I know I’ve said it a million times before, but… I’m not her mom. I’m her best-friend… but, I don’t know if I can be a mom.” You trailed, squeezing his hand.

“But, you’re practically-”

“I’m not. At the end of the day, I’ve helped you.. I’ve done everything I can for her. But, you’re her father. Even if the papers don’t say it, deep down and full-heartedly, you’re her father, but… she has a mom.”

Tom gave your hand a squeeze, “You want me to keep Maggie in Summer’s life?... No, no way. She didn’t care for her until now and it was all because she was selfish.” 

“Exactly. I know you don’t see it now but, she needs to have some connection to her mom. If it doesn’t work out that way then… that’s fair. I think things just got off the wrong foot the more I think about it. I mean, what if I’m not enough and-”

“Hey, hey… you are enough. You’re more than enough.” Tom said, his tone soft.

You barely grimaced, still holding his hand as if he was slipping through your fingers. Suddenly, everything went quiet and it was just the two of you in your own little world. His hand securely locked yours and was against your chest, feeling your heart pound for the first few seconds until it went back to its steady beat. 

“One day at a time. You and me.” Tom promised.

You replied with a nod and Tom kissed the center of your forehead, trailing to your nose before you shifted closer to him and curled up to embrace the warmness between your bodies. His arm moved behind your neck and around your shoulder, like being in a safety net. 

For a few minutes, his fingers slowly carded through the back of your hair, a relaxing comfort as you fell into a deep sleep with knowing you were protected in his arms. Tom stayed up longer than he should have, watching the red-lit minutes change on the clock by his bedside, but he wanted to make sure you were asleep because you needed the rest. A few times, you’d nuzzle your face against his chest, shifting your arms around him and he adjusted his grip around you with the shift of your position.

“I love you.” He whispered, even though he knew you were asleep. 

It wasn’t so scary to say out loud anymore. He was so happy about it, he lazily smiled while his eyes began to feel heavy and they fluttered as he also fell asleep right next to you. For once, his world truly was at peace and looking up. The grin on his face lost the tension on the corners of his mouth, light snores between the two of you. Until, he suddenly jolted out of his slumber when there was a light touch on his back shoulder.

Tom shot his head up, a quick breath through his nose before his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He saw Summer standing by his bed, her hair in a bun with her fly-aways highlighted from the streetlight coming in from the window behind her. Just like her dad, she had the same exhausted look on her small face and all she wanted was to be with him. As much as she thought she wanted to be on her own, her thinking six was practically grown, Summer couldn’t deny she was a daddy’s girl.

“Daddy…” She whispered.

“W-What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom cleared his throat, carefully leaning over to the other side of the bed.

“Can I sleep with you and Y/N? I had a bad dream...” Summer maintained her whisper.

“Of course… hop in. Get between us.”

Summer pulled herself up, crawling over Tom as he pulled down the covers between the two of you. Your sleep was deep enough that you didn’t budge but, Summer still slid in carefully and faced toward Tom. He wrapped his arm around her, facing her and you and he realized how long it had passed since that’d done this. He knew his days of checking for monsters in the closet and under the bed would run up soon, as well as walking her up to school and holding her hand. The more he thought about how much he cared about her, the less the paternity test meant to him. It couldn’t erase all the memories they’ve made and the hardships they faced. Moments like this were the reason he was her father, not some test.

Of course, he was filled with anxieties and dread that she would push away if he told her the truth, but he couldn’t worry about that now because she was and will always be his family. He’d rather him than a deadbeat be her father, happy to protect her from the evil and bad and there to sing her a lullaby if the night seemed to dark and mysterious, filled with make believe beings that she thought were so real or even holding her hand tight as she stepped over cracks on the sidewalk. Happy, sad, angry, sick, anything, Tom wanted to be there for every moment and even when she has her own family.

The thought of her growing up in the blink of an eye could make him tear up when she fit so perfectly in his arms, so small and delicate and more than ready to see the world even though Tom thought the world wasn’t ready fo her.

“Daddy, too tight.” She warned, her voice muffled in his chest.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

A few hours later, the sun slowly rose over the horizon and shined through the windows by each side of the bed. The birds chirped, some landing on the fire escape outside, while the cars drove on the street below along with occasional dogs barking from passing one another.

As you moved your face against the pillow, your eyes fluttered open as a small smile curled up on your tired face. Waking up to the sight of Summer asleep on top of Tom was something you could get used to. You reached out, running your hand over her back before pushing her hair out of her face. Her cheek was against his chest, making her lips a bit pursed and eyebrows rested. You leaned your head against Tom’s shoulder, nuzzling your face into his neck and giving him a light kiss on the start of his jaw.

After a few minutes, Tom stirred out of his sleep, comfortable when he woke up next to his two girls. You lifted your head to look at him, smiling with both of you sharing lazy glances.

“Good morning… How’d you sleep?” You asked him, low enough to not wake Summer.

“Perfect.” Tom grinned, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

The morning went by quickly and the next moment, the three of you were in the car and driving to Summer’s school. Tom’s knuckles were practically snow white from how tight he was gripping the stirring wheel and his back straight against the seat as if he were being tailed by someone but the roads were mostly empty.

His jaw clenched, a nervousness building up in his gut the closer he got to the school. When Tom eventually stopped at a red light, you cautiously placed your hand on his leg, “Why are you so anxious, baby?” You asked, watching him place his hand on top of yours.

“I’m not, just tired.” He faked a grin, giving your hand a light squeeze.

You tilted your head, “Really?” 

Tom’s eyes moved to the rearview mirror, glancing at Summer with her headphones on, flattening the top of her hair, as she played with her iPad.

He turned to you, “Just like having her back is all.”

But you knew he was scared about having to let her go for a few hours. It may have felt overreactive, but Tom thought if it could happen once, the idea of a second time easily creeped its way up in his head.

Your eyes glossed, “Nothing bad is gonna happen, okay? Trust me, I don’t think we’ll let anyone take our girl unless they kill us over it… not to be completely dramatic.” You joked, just to see him smile.

Even though you felt like a bit of a broken record, but you didn’t blame him for worrying. What Maggie did was unforgivable, leaving Tom with an anxiety in his chest like no other, but all you could do was be there for him and remind him that abandonment wasn’t around the corner. You had to keep him hopeful, almost making Tom himself feel guilty for constantly being on his toes, but he knew you were his anchor to keep him from drifting away to drown in his own doubts.

“Thanks.” He said, glancing down at your hands.

When you got to school, you waited in the car while Tom walked Summer to the front door. Some of the parents wondered where he went, but they passed by with their friendly greetings before the two of them got to the sidewalk.

Tom kneeled down, “You have your lunch?”

“Yes.” Summer nodded.

“Water? Books? Everything you need?” He fixed the collar of her t-shirt.

“Yes, daddy.” She giggled, thinking he was acting silly.

He cracked a smile, “Okay. I’ll see you after school and maybe you can show me the duckies.”

Summer nodded with excitement, giving Tom a quick hug and his hand held hers for a few seconds until it slipped through his fingers. She ran up to the teacher escorting the kids in as he got back on his feet, his eyes not leaving her till Summer turned back around by the door frame and gave a quick wave.

Just seeing that reminded him of living in the moment now is what was important. Not the past, not the future, just being there to see her beautiful smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The courthouse’s walls felt like they were closing in even though the ceilings were high and the halls were grand. Well-dressed people passed by with their phones glued to their ears and others pressed tissues to their eyes, holding them to catch their tears and mascara. Sounds of heels clicked against the granite floors, loudly echoing as they sauntered by you and Tom.

“Hey, it’s gonna go okay. There’s no way they won’t give you any compensation.” You reassured him, adjusting his black tie and laying it flat against his white button up.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just kind of loud in here… and hot.” Tom looked down, rubbing the back of his neck.

You knew it was because his dad wasn’t here yet. It meant a lot to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, but if there was some chance of it happening, you had to keep him cheery. You moved your hands down the front of his suit jacket, brushing off anything, but you looked back into his eyes.

“Hey… Tommy, look at me.” You softly asked. It was something you said to him often, trying to remind him that you were there completely. He just needed a bit of a reminder sometimes that he didn’t have to be alone in everything.

Tom glanced up at you, those brown eyes glimmering. Your glance shifted to the light bruise faded under his eye along with the scar by his cheek, almost gone but you knew it left more than a scar for him. It was just a reminder of the hardest and most confusing time of his life, maybe, but this was all you assumed. He never knew what was going through Tom’s head as equally as knowing just from the look on his face or in his eyes.  Just like right now.

“It’s gonna be fine and you don’t even need to say much. That’s why we have lawyers.” You grinned, a giggle following and he cracked a smile back.

“I love you, you know that?” He asked.

You stood close to him, your heads angled at one another, “I love you too.”

Before you could say something else, you both Tom’s dad’s voice which made you turn around to the hall behind you. His dad walked up with his lawyer, obviously both of them close from how they smiled and chuckled from their conversation. Tom said his dad knew him for a long time, even helping with the separation of his parents a few years ago. Tom thought if his dad trusted this guy enough, so could he.

“Hey son, you look good.” His dad smiled, giving you and Tom quick hugs before both of you shook hands with the lawyer.

“Y/N, this is Joseph, Tom’s lawyer today.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Make sure you keep him sane.” You jeered.

“He’ll be fine.” Joseph grinned, patting Tom’s shoulder.

Tom sealed his lips, then the corners of his mouth lifting up to quickly smile. You grinned back, rubbing his back before kissing his cheek.

“We’ll be waiting out here.” Tom’s dad told him.

It wasn’t easy watching him go in without you even though you’d just spent a few minutes calming him down. You didn’t think this wouldn’t fall through, still grateful he wasn’t more hurt from this, but you didn’t know what would come after this. His fingers slipped away from yours, your stomach dropped and goosebumps ran over your skin as if a chill suddenly blew in. Hiding your distress, all you could do was sit on the bench and wait for him.

“He’ll be okay in there. There’s no question.” His dad assured you, seeing the same details in his face as Tom does like the crinkles by his eyes or the freckles along his nose.

“Thanks. I don’t know why I’m nervous.” You shrugged, crossing your leg over the other.

“You guys have been through a lot. But, this should make things smooth over for a bit while you get back on your feet.”

You nodded, “I was scared because he’s the most stable person I know, but after these past weeks? I had never seen him fall apart so quickly.”

“Well, he told me you helped him throughout that.”

You chuckled, “We help each other. I don’t know what I’d do without him either.”

“That just shows you guys care about each other. Won’t leave each other hanging… You need that right now more than anything.” Tom’s dad spoke from his experiences with his past marriage, happy to hear that his son was not only being supportive, but also being supported by someone who obviously loved him.

You sniffled, “We really do… I’ve been having to take him to his… concussion appointments and they put him in this big machine and make him do all these tests and…” You nodded, “I was already thinking of what the next step was if something bad happened. I mean, luckily, everything has been fine… I guess it’s just assuming something else can hit us while we’re already down… but, I’m okay because I know we have each other’s backs.”

He wasn’t sure to impose, but his dad still reached out for your shoulder and gave a comforting rub. You appreciated it although you didn’t know Tom’s dad that well, you can see where he got his kindness and confidence from clear as day, just even the tone of his voice was similar that you knew Tom always admired his father despite their parted relationship recently.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

After an hour or two, most of your time was spent people watching and observing them from where you sat, feeling like you couldn’t do much else. You tried not to pick at your nails or shake your leg, but you felt like you were itching out of your own skin from what was going on behind that thick door. A few times you thought it was opening, making you turn your head constantly at any noise from that way.

Finally, Tom walked out, his lawyer by his side, and his smile was bright which made you reflect one right back.

“I got the compensation.” He chuckled in relief, his arms around wrapping around you and lifting you off your feet.

Tears filled both your eyes, the small accomplishment feeling like a weight slowly being taken off your chest and giving you more hope for whatever came next.

Tom placed you back on your feet, leaning over to bear hug his dad and they shared a few chuckles.

“How much was it?” His dad asked.

“A little over $9,000. Enough to pay for some bills, Summer’s school, savings.” Tom trailed, wiping his tears with the side of his hand.

His dad grinned, “I’d say that’s a call for a little celebration for you two.”

“I agree.” Tom turned to you.

“Well, we’ll leave you two to have some fun. Y/N, it was nice to see you.” His dad grinned, giving you a quick embrace with your head on his shoulder.

“You too.”

“See you later, dad.” Tom gave a pat on his dad’s shoulder, nodding to the lawyer before the two of them walked away.

Your arm was wrapped around Tom’s waist tight as he kissed your temple, pulling you even closer. His smile painted on his lips and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek. You ran your hand over his chest, looking up at his caramel brown eyes.

“Since I’ve come into a bit of money, I think we should go on a date.” Tom grinned, biting his bottom lip to conceal how big his smile was.

You blushed, “You think?”

“Well, I mean, we should go on a date. You, me, a nice restaurant and maybe ice cream or whatever your sweet tooth is craving after.” He smiled.

“What about Summer?”

“I can cover it. My mom is gonna watch her while she’s in town. She’s said she has a lot of grandma time to make up for.” Tom chuckled and put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Well, as long as she’s willing to do it… I’m all in.” You giggled as you nuzzled your head against his shoulder.

“Thank God, I was scared that we were moving too fast.” He jeered back, kissing the top of your head once more.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

After the drama had digested over the past few days, you could see how everything fell into place. At least, for a bit of time until the rent bill came up in your emails again. While you hadn’t spent much time at your apartment, it was seen as storage for your clothes when you’d been at Tom’s for the past two months with Summer. Even though you had been dating for that same amount of time, you didn’t know how to bring it up without feeling like you were rushing things.

Yes, you’d known each other than most couples you were friends with, but you had never been so scared to take the next step and actually moving in together. The thought of finally clashing your lives together and attempt to start another life made your heart skip a beat. These feelings couldn’t be ignored by how strong they were, probably building up after all these years, but you knew Tom had a responsibility of Summer and starting to adoption process.

You were nervous to bring the question up to Tom, wondering how it would pan out and not wanting to assume the worst would happen when you knew in the back of your head that you loved one another more than anything in the world, but nothing has come perfect to you.

As you turned the key in the lock, you pushed open the door, but the lights were all out. You furrowed your eyebrows before your hand searched the wall, finding the switch and flicking it on only to see a few decorations put up.

You froze when you saw red, yellow and white roses scattered around in vases along with plastic, white and pink balloons hanging around the ceiling and settled on the couch and chairs. At first, you wondered if you forget about an anniversary or birthday, but Tom walked out with Summer trailing him.

“Shoot… I didn’t know you were coming home early.” Tom chuckled while Summer ran up to you, wrapping her arms around your leg.

“What’s with the party decorations?” You smiled, glancing around.

Tom sighed, a light smile still on his face before he took your hand, guiding you over to the center of the living room. Heat rose to your cheeks, wondering what he was up to, but Summer stood by his side and she looked up at you with glassy eyes.

“Do you remember when we were younger... and you said the only way you’d want to be proposed to is in a rose garden?”

Your heart dropped, losing the feeling in your whole body as your smile faded, “...Possibly...”

Tom slowly got on one knee while reaching into his pocket, keeping eye contact with you as he lowered to the ground and the tears welled up in your eyes, thinking this was easily a dream.

“Well, I couldn’t find a close rose garden but, I hope this could suffice.” Tom smiled, his cheeks tinted pink.

Summer stood next to Tom, watching him open the small, black velvet box. The ring sat perfectly in the center of it, gleaming from the light coming down and you let out a relieved sigh with a smile on your lips. You quickly wiped your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as Tom took a deep breath to say his next words.

“I don’t want another few years to go by before I notice that… I was dumb for not doing something and that I love you so much. I want you to be in my life and I want to officially make our own… together forever. I want to love you everyday and a little bit after that.” He chuckled, a few tears trailing his cheeks, “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

You sealed your lips, not able to hide your smile, but you turned to Summer.

“What do you think, Summer?” You jeered at her, both of you sharing smiles.

“Y/N, I want you to be my mommy.” She said sweetly.

You turned to Tom, beaming at him, both of your eyes filled with tears still, “That sounds great to me.”

He chuckled, gently taking the ring and slipping it on your finger before you practically pulled him up to his feet to embrace him. The tightness of the hug didn’t give you much air, but you didn’t care. Tom ran his fingers through the back of your hair, light laughs coming from the both of you and Summer tried to coil her arms around the both of you from how low she was.

The world finally was complete.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @sinisterspidey@itstaskeen @tomhollandsgirlfriend @bi-writes @infinite-imagination @honeyspidey @hollandcrush @sunsetholland @pparkersbitch @namoreno @calltothewild @spideyspeaches @veryholland @osterfieldshollandgirl @slutforsebstan @bi-lmg @sunshinepeterparkr @annathesillyfriend @madmadmilk @antigoneidk @hollandcreep @wierdflowerpower @heavenlyholland @determined-overthinker @white-wolf1940 @thexplosivegirl​ 

[literaryspinster]

1000 word preview: Something in the Water Ch. 14

This chapter is taking so long for a number of reasons, but the main one (besides the few fires I’ve had to put out in my personal life this month) is the sheer amount of plot to work out in my head before I can finish it. This is the most difficult chapter to write for reasons that I’m sure will become clear once the whole thing is up. Thankfully, I’m past the worst of the writer’s block and steadily trucking along. Here are the first 1000 words to tide you guys over! I hope it gets you excited for what’s to come! One doesn’t do what Sebastian does, for as long as he has done it, without acquiring a knack for tracking people down. Keeping tabs on every big, important person who sailed away with a newly purchased sea nymph is part of the job, one of the biggest parts in fact. But this time might propose a challenge. His source doesn’t have an address, a license plate number, or anything else that can be searched with relative ease. And Dick Grayson has no social media presence, no friends in the vicinity loose-lipped enough to offer up a phone number, nothing of the sort. 

There are many reasons that trying to approach him at the precinct would be entirely the wrong move. Finding another angle that will lead straight to the man’s home is the only way forward. What makes it all the more frustrating – and perhaps it’s nothing more than his grasping imagination– is the fact that something about the name Detective Dick Grayson sets something off in his recognition the moment he hears it. But it’s like knowing a two second sample of a melody with no lyrics. 

“Where have I heard that name before?” He asks himself once he exhausts the usefulness of the inebriated beachcomber.

In the middle of the night, he sits in the corner of the room, his sallow, tired face flooded with blue light. It’s dead end after dead end, until he finds himself two years deep into the DeGranger Gazette archives. It’s at the top of the society page, a color photo from two years ago accompanied by a headline “DeGranger Heiress to wed detective.” Dick Grayson was once engaged to the woman he just put into a coma.

He swallows hard. There they are, two paper dolls stapled to each other’s sides, tight smiles painted onto their vacant faces. He reads the article carefully.

“I truly couldn’t be happier,” says Granger “I’ve finally found my forever.”

Sebastian doesn't have to know them well to know that it was a complete load of bollocks, but the objective isn’t to psychoanalyze the doomed couple on his computer screen, it’s to find the mermaid, and if he isn’t being taken for a ride, this man is the key.

****

She should have asked for a third box of dye, she realizes as she works the deep maroon color up toward her temples, the ammonia smelling goo squelching under her gloved fingertips. Even she underestimated just how much hair she’d be dealing with, and the fact that the grocery store only carries dusty boxes of Feria serves to make the job that much more challenging. 

She prays for a color resembling black cherries in the sunshine, but fears the result will be something closer to the faux leather cover of an old Bible.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Gar says from the other side of the bathroom door. Kory’s been shut away in this bathroom struggling for over an hour, it was only a matter of time before they started to grow concerned.

“It’s open,” she says, and the teen lets himself in.

“Wow, is this another crime scene?” He says, spotting the dark red splotches and splatters all over the sink and counter, the gory looking fingerprints on the mirror and hand soap bottle. She doesn’t even know how they got there, this entire process has been a chaotic blur. 

“Don’t give me a hard time, I’ve never had to do this before,”

He lets out a small chuckle at her expense, and she rolls her eyes in return, even if she can’t help the corners of her mouth pulling up slightly. Gar is quite a kid, sweet, welcoming, patient. And just like the others, he isn’t at all hesitant to treat her as one of their own, which means the occasional teasing remark. But with the way she’s made a slasher movie out of the bathroom, she can’t really blame him.

“Sit down,” he instructs her. “I’ve been dying my own hair since I was ten, I can help.”

She obliges, lowering herself down onto the toilet seat lid. He puts on the spare pair of gloves, takes a comb from the counter and pinches his chin in contemplation as he inspects the heavy, unevenly wet mess that her curls have become.

“It’s harder when you can’t see the back of your own head,” he says like he’s attempting to spare her feelings. “But to be fair we probably should have gotten a third box.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she says.

“Don’t worry, I can stretch it,” he says, and begins gently scraping some of the excess off of her ends with the comb.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you,” she says, “Any of you.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t seen Rachel this happy in a long time. So making sure you don’t end up looking like Chucky’s hot sister is truly the least I can do.”

“Who’s Chucky?”

“Nevermind, I forget your horror movie knowledge still needs some fleshing out. Pun intended.”

She relaxes as he continues his work. When she gets to New York, there will be no shortage of hair salons at her beck and call, but for now, anything is better than her own untrained hands, and he’s mercifully gentle with the comb, enough that she can close her eyes and let her thoughts carry her away for a moment.

****

She comes into his room with her newly dark hair right before lunch, just as Dick  prepares to go see Conner at the station. It’s still red, but it’s hard to tell until the second she passes under the skylight, the color suddenly catching fire. And the first thing that comes to mind is, this is never going to work. There isn’t a haircolor in the world that will stop her from looking completely ethereal. Still, at least it’s a difference, something to help protect her when they make their way.

“What do you think?” she says, touching it coyly. He walks up to her to inspect. Gar did a fantastic job, if vet school doesn’t work out he has a solid backup plan in hair coloring.

“I think trying to keep everyone’s eyes off of you is totally pointless,” he says, not even in a flirtatious way, more like it’s simply a fact.

“Stooop,” she says. 

“You stop,” he replies softly, crowding her, his arms sliding around her waist. It’s hard to keep his distance. He just wants to be holding her all of the time because at least that way he’ll know she wont get hurt. 

[oddaodd]

·A Concoction of Honey, Oatmeal and Herbs·

Summary: The reader pampers Tommy with a face mask. Because let's be honest, who wouldn't dream of doing skincare with Tommy?

Warnings: None, this is absolute fluff.

·

Tommy walked into his room after an exhausting day and was welcomed by the smell of fresh lavender and honey accompanied by a soft humming sound that followed the tune of Y/n’s favorite song emanating from the bathroom.

As he pushed the bathroom door open, Y/n came to his sight. Standing in front of the sink in her nightgown, spreading a clumpy concoction that very much resembled pancake batter on her face.

When she saw her husbands face reflected on the mirror she stopped humming and turned around with a smile happy to see him home.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Shelby” she said walking over to greet him with a soft kiss letting his arms drape around her waist.

“Hello, love” he mumbled parting slightly form her lips.

Y/n let her forehead rest on his having completely forgotten her face was covered in her homemade mask only to part from him immediately once she realized it.

“Sorry” she smiled trying to wipe off the smeared mix of honey, oatmeal and herbs from her husband’s forehead before an idea popped into her mind.

Stopping her attempts of cleaning Tommy’s skin she went over to the sink and grabbed the jar in which she had mixed all the ingredients for her face mask and went to stand in front of him again.

“Oh no, Y/n. I don’t need that stuff” he said as he realized what his wife had in mind.

“Come on Tommy, it is great for the skin” she said tugging at his hand and leading him to sit on the chair she kept near the bathtub knowing damn well he could never say no to her.

“I didn’t know there was anything wrong with my skin” he said with a soft teasing tone as he sat down looking up at her, a loving smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“There isn’t” she reassured dipping two of her fingers into the jar “but I can tell you’re tired and need some pampering”

“What I need is something to drink”

“You drink entirely too much” she said in a soft voice of disapproval “This is a much healthier relaxation method”

Taking a considerable amount of the mix she eased it onto Tommy’s skin with gentle fingers, his soft freckles disappearing behind the golden color of the honey mixed with herbs and oatmeal.

She tenderly massaged his skin prompting the oatmeal to work it’s exfoliation magic while taking special consideration of his temples which she knew were often victims of dreadful headaches induced by his overworked mind.

Tommy looked at her through his dark lashes while she worked. His heart fluttering at the way her eyebrows softly knitted together as her manicured fingers applied the mix near his eyes careful not to let her nails poke him.

“Done “ she announced proudly once the mixture was spread evenly on his face. Her eyes met his intense ones and she smiled before going to the sink to rinse her hands.

“Can I take this off now?” He asked not used to the feeling of honey and herbs on his face.

“No!” She reprimanded “you must let it set for at least 15 minutes”

“15 minutes?!” He asked in a tone that was asking her if she was being serious.

“Oh don’t be dramatic” she teased walking towards the tub to get a towel “ We can exfoliate your hands meanwhile. I bought this amazing cuticle oil that works wonders”

“Cuticle oil” he derided sarcastically before taking hold of her wrist as she walked in front of him and pulling her on his lap earning a yelp from her lips at the sudden action.

“Last time I heard, you liked how rough my hands felt on you” his voice low and teasing, before claiming her lips.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[marvels-writings]

Colors

Yelena Belova Masterlist

Requested by Anon: imagine a very feminine reader who loves dressing up and doing her hair and makeup meeting yelena and the first thing yelena says is like “do you always dress like that?” earning a snarky response from the reader

Word Count: 1k (so damn fluffy)

A/N: So i may have edited the request a bit so it’s before their first date, and i hope you’ll still like this.

This can be read as a oneshot or a sort of a prequel to Choices

Quiet music played in the background in your room, the earrings you held in your hands glinting in the bright sunlight seeping through your windows. Your grin was unmatched by the brightness of any of the objects in your room, not even the sparkling necklace you wore.

Every part of your outfit screamed girly and cute, and you loved it, more than anyone. Your makeup matched your bright yellow sundress, which went just above your thighs. It was littered with tiny sunflower patterns, minimalistic yet cute.

Proud of your outfit, you spun a little in the mirror, grinning even wider at the way you looked. Fixing up your hair, you turned off the music and waltzed outside. The rest of the team, enjoying their day off, lounged around on the couches, finally wearing something except for mission attire.

Yet none of them were wearing something out of their way as you were. You gained their compliments along with their raised eyebrows at the sudden change. All of them seemed a little surprised at the sunshine crossing their path, all except for two Russian assassins.

Natasha smirked knowingly at the reason for your outfit, gesturing her head in the direction of her sister's room. She did not doubt that Yelena was probably panicking about what to wear today, even though it was nothing too fancy. It was just a park date you'd invited her to, but it was all the more special to her.

It was special because you'd been the one to ask her out; after the months she'd spent pining over you and struggling to impress you. It seemed that her desperate, sometimes hilarious attempts to win you over had succeeded as you skipped over to her room.

You knocked on the door, smiling as you fidgeted with the strap of the matching purse you'd carried for your phone and your wallet. Mentally checking through everything you wanted to have for this date, even the present, you stood in front of Yelena's door.

It opened to reveal Yelena standing there in a tank top and jeans, clearly expecting Natasha instead of you. Her eyes widened, the door moved to shut, hiding the clothes covering the length of her bed. Her indecision was still obvious in the way she tried to hide her disheveled state.

She licked her lips, greeting you with a timid smile, her eyes looking over your outfit. Your once proud grin dissipated to a nervous smile, no less proud but more hesitant. Her hazel eyes continued to take in every detail of your outfit, from the hoop earrings to the patterns on your dress.

"Do you always dress like that?" Yelena asked, gesturing to you with her hand. Her voice contained so much disdain for you; it wasn't the approval nor the appreciation you had been expecting. Taking offense to the comment, you raised an eyebrow, setting your hands on your hips.

"One of us has to look good for our date." You remarked, eyes narrowing at her. She flinched a little at your response, gaze falling to the ground. You frowned at the response; not thinking the comment would have much effect on her.

You knew it didn't offend her when you caught the grin she was trying to hide. Yelena shook her head at the comment, opening the door wider to usher you inside. You stepped in, eyebrow-raising in response to the clothes littering every inch of her room. Her entire closet emptied.

"Help me look good for it?" She asked, a timid smile on her face as she toyed with her fingers. A grin covered your face at her nervousness, turning around to a sight that melted your heart even more. She was so nervous to go on this date, her knowing smirk gone and replaced by the most hesitant of smiles.

You nodded in response to her request, grinning as you began to sort through the clothes on her bed. Many of them were too fancy for a party, let alone a park date. Yelena perched at the corner of her bed, watching you intently. A light frown covered her face when you marched out, only to be replaced with a bigger grin when you returned with your speaker.

An indie playlist rang through the room; you danced a little bit to it while matching outfits together. Yelena even asked you to help organize her closet, solely to watch your nose scrunch when you couldn't figure out how to arrange them. She made up tiny excuses or flaws in the outfits you chose so you could pick out other ones.

Anything so she could keep watching you. These moments of bliss were more than she could imagine, seeing you this happy just to pick out an outfit for her. Your outfit was better than anything she could pick out, but she could never pull off something that... bright.

You resembled sunshine in it, looking bright enough to light up her bleak room. Enough to light it up so she wore something except for her greys and blacks. She eventually settled on a yellow shirt that Natasha had gifted her as a joke, knowing she would never wear a color that bright, paired with black jeans and a tight leather jacket.

Quickly changing into it in the bathroom, she opened the door to her room to see you organizing the clothes into tiny piles, but the jacket on your shoulders wasn't one you were wearing before. It was hers, a black denim jacket that matched the color of the sunflower patterns on your dress.

A grin covered her face as you hooked your arm through hers, letting her guide you out of the room and toward the park. You talked about everything and nothing on the way there, smiling at the odd glances Yelena got at her choice of clothes.

Yelena watched as you proudly showed off your selection of outfits to Natasha. She rubbed the back of her neck bashfully, boasting the bright colors she wore, grinning at the jacket you wore. You didn't take it off, not even when the sun blazed down on you at the park.

Your adamance to wear her clothes stretched to even after the date, when you helped her organize her closet, stealing some sweatshirts and hoodies on the way. Her first date with you wasn't anything like she'd planned, but if these were how dates with you were.

She was happy wearing whatever you wanted her to, even if that was the most vivid colors you could find. Anything to see your bright smile.

A/N: Tell me what you think!! I did put some effort so feedback is fantastic!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart​ , @summergeezburr​ , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @blackxwidowsxwife , @studies-styles , @procrastinatingsapphictrash , @mxxnmocha , @ladyeliot , @wandavixen , @blurryylines , @thewidowsghost , @wlwlovesreading let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

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It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

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masterlist