#WHEW *wipes hand across forehead*

[nightdiary]

last night's story (jake) – preview

word count: estimated 15-20k genre: surfer!jake, friends to enemies to lovers, angst, attempt at humor, fluff, eventual smut author's note: the odysseus concept demon got my ass. i cannot get surfer jake out of my mind so this was born .. whew! let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag list for when this is released <3 FULL STORY HAS BEEN POSTED!

summary: lured by the prospect of earning a couple extra bucks for the summer, you head north to man your aunt's surf shop on australia's sunshine coast. it's a visit that reacquaints you with everything you've been running from– old friends, abandoned memories, and one unforgettable jake sim.

“You should come watch me at the state titles next week,” Jake leans over the counter, propping himself up on his elbows and fixing you with an impish look. The movement sends a few droplets from his fringe landing by your hands, and he sheepishly apologizes before reaching out to wipe them away.

Instinctively, you want to reach out and shove his forehead with your fingers, but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t the same Jake you’d grown up with. Whatever you’d once had was left decaying in the past.

“Sure,” you say, ignoring the nagging warmth in your chest. Feigning nonchalance, you busy yourself with tapping on the checkout screen of the iPad, if only to give your hands something to do other than to fidget with your shirt. “Me and how many other chicks?”

Jake laughs good-naturedly, but the momentary lapse of insecurity in his voice isn’t lost on you. You feel guilty for just a moment, but don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. As you finalize his order on the screen, you look up to find Jake already looking back at you, almost expectantly.

“Your total’s $270.59.”

Jake’s face falters the slightest bit, but you don’t think it’s because of the ridiculously high price. “Does that factor in the ‘good friend discount’?”

The phrase makes something sour flood in your mouth, and you resist the urge to scowl. The receipt machine prints out his total, and you rip the paper out with more force than admitted necessarily. You nearly slam it down on the counter in front of Jake, peering up at his shocked face through your lashes. “Yea? What’s my favorite color, Jake?”

Noticeably taken aback, Jake’s confident demeanor slips away as easily as a receding wave. He stutters around his next sentence, and you try not to let your satisfaction show as you open the register. Jake looks down as he counts through the bills in his wallet, pulling out several and passing them timidly across the surface. “Uh–, well, hmm. Something… blue? Wasn’t it blue?”

“I hate blue,” you spit the lie out a bit too quickly, and hope Jake can’t see right through you. You accept the bills you’re handed with pursed lips, slipping them into your register and handing back the few cents you owe him.

“You don’t,” Jake answers immediately, not bothering to reach out and pocket the change. “You love blue. That light seafoam shade you see on the shore. Used to say it reminded you of summer.”

Despite how much you want to disagree, your throat feels all dry and your eyes are stinging and you don’t think you can bear to look at Jake much longer without saying something regretful. But something about letting him think he still knows you makes your fists clench and gut boil.

“People change,” you say with an air of finality. “I changed. You changed.”

Jake takes his bag and steps back from the counter with the expression of a kicked puppy. He looks back at you like he wants to say something, something long left untouched, and you resist the urge to hide behind your counter and stuff your ears with cotton.

You feel naked and vulnerable– like Jake has carefully stripped away every last layer of your defenses and he can see the rotting remains of everything you didn’t say. You hate how he looks at you, like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and the inner monologue you’ve been fighting since you first met him. Like he still knows you in and out, despite moving away and changing every last bit of yourself that reminded you of him.

“Thanks for shopping with us,” the smile you give him is anything but warm, and you shut the register with a bang that echoes around the shop. “Have a good rest of your day, Jake.”

likes and reblogs greatly appreciated ♥

[whimsicalpolitical]

Garden - Ross Macdonald

18+mdni in which ross and you spend a lovely evening planting vegetables, unlocking the ‘garden daddy’ in him. the day ends with soft loving on the couch

content warning: chest riding, mild dirty talk, fluff, p in v,riding

The sun dips gently below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the garden. You push open the door and step out onto the cool grass, the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut lawn enveloping you in a fragrant embrace. The potting soil and cucumber seedlings, neatly packed in their delivery box, lie at your feet.

"Ross!" you call out, your voice carrying a mix of excitement and urgency. "Help me get this in.”

From around the corner, you hear a familiar chuckle, and Ross appears, his eyes twinkling. He's wiping his hands on a rag, a casual grin spreading across his face. "Eh, what’s all this then?" he asks.

“I ordered stuff for our garden remember?” You say, nodding your head at the big packages on your door step.

“Ah-ha stuff,” he chuckles, “let’s get this in then, you need to help me though, s’not like I can carry this alone.”

“Of course, let’s do this then,” you sound very exciting and you are. Gardening is one of the hobbies you love the most.

You and Ross struggle to maneuver the heavy bags of potting soil and cucumber seedlings, huffing and puffing as you lug them into the yard. The weight of the load strains your muscles, and a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead.

“Whew,” you gasp, fanning yourself with your hand. “This is already a workout.”

Ross laughs, wiping his brow. I think we’re going to need some wine to get through this evening.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. "Wine sounds perfect right about now."

He raises an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Alright then, let’s make a deal. I’ll grab the wine, and you start unpacking these bags. Deal?"

"Deal," you reply, still catching your breath.

As Ross heads inside to fetch the wine, you set to work unpacking the seedlings and potting soil. You glance at the small, green cucumber plants, already envisioning the lush vines and crisp cucumbers they will soon yield. By the time Ross returns, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, you’ve arranged everything neatly on the ground.

"Here we go," he says, pouring each of you a generous glass. "To gardening and making it through with some semblance of sanity."

You clink your glass against his, the sound ringing out like a promise of teamwork. "To gardening," you agree, taking a refreshing sip.

Ross glances at the array of gardening tools and plants spread out before you. "So, what’s next, love?" he asks, his tone light.

"Next, we get these cucumbers planted," you say with a grin. "And don’t worry, it’s easier than it looks."

He raises an eyebrow, still skeptical but clearly amused. "You do remember that I'm absolute rubbish at gardening, right?"

"Last time, I managed to ruin everything. Everything, love.”

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "Nonsense," you reply, waving off his concern. "You just need the right teacher. Besides, how hard can it be to plant a few cucumbers?"

He lets out a laugh, taking another sip of his wine. "Alright, alright. Let’s give it a go then. Just promise you won't laugh too hard when I muck it up."

You roll your eyes playfully. "No promises. But let’s get to it. These cucumbers aren’t going to plant themselves."

Ross takes your glass from your hand and sets both on the table. He puts the bottle of wine in a huge ice bucket so it won’t get hot outside.

You kneel beside the garden bed and open the bags of soil, inhaling the earthy scent that wafts up. You start scooping the rich, dark soil into the garden bed, spreading it evenly with your hands. Ross watches for a moment, then follows your lead, albeit with a bit more hesitation.

"Just like this?" he asks, mimicking your movements.

"Yep, just like that," you assure him. "See? You're a natural."

As you work, you can’t help but laugh at the way Ross tentatively handles the soil, his brow furrowed in concentration. You show him how to create small mounds for the cucumber plants, spacing them carefully to give each one room to grow.

Next, you both set to planting the seedlings. You gently tease the young plants from their trays, careful not to damage their delicate roots. Ross watches, his eyes wide with fascination as you show him how to plant each one in its own little mound of soil.

“Just like this,” you say, demonstrating how to nestle the plant gently into the earth and pat the soil around it. “Easy, right?”

He nods, a little more confident now, and carefully plants his first cucumber seedling. "Look at that," he says with a grin. "Not bad for someone who can’t keep a houseplant alive."

"See? You're doing great!" you reply, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“Hm,” he hums, “thanks to my amazingly gorgeous teacher.”

You both continue planting, working side by side, occasionally standing up to take a sip of your wine.

Taking a break from the gardening, you sink onto the cool grass, legs stretched out and hands behind you, propping yourself up. You take a moment to catch your breath, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the scent of earth and greenery that fills the air.

Ross is still at it, kneeling in the garden bed with an amused determination. You watch him as he carefully pats down the soil around a seedling, his hands moving with a mix of hesitation and newfound confidence. He glances over at you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes twinkling with that familiar warmth.

“I see how it is,” he says, “showing me what to do until you’re budging out f’ this, no?” He laughs.

You shake your head offensively, “can’t I catch my breath for a second? Besides, looks like you’re having fun.”

Ross snorts, “just want to get this done before it’s getting dark.” He hides the fact that this is amusing. He likes to spend time with you no matter what you’re doing, appreciating the precious time after tour.

As he shifts to grab the watering can, you notice the way his T-shirt clings to his frame, a testament to the effort he’s put in today. His broad shoulders and strong arms are slightly smudged with dirt, giving him an effortlessly handsome, earthy appeal. There’s something incredibly charming about seeing him in this natural, unguarded state, fully immersed in the simple task of nurturing young plants.

As you stand up, brushing the grass from your hands, you take one last sip of wine before setting the glass aside. You stretch your arms above your head, feeling a pleasant ache from the day's work, and then stride over to join Ross, who looks up with a welcoming smile.

“Back for more?” he asks, handing you a trowel with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Together, you resume the task of planting. You sink your hands into the cool earth, feeling the satisfying resistance of the soil as you carve out small holes for the next set of seedlings. The rhythm of planting becomes almost meditative, each movement deliberate and unhurried. You carefully place a tender cucumber plant into its new home, covering its roots gently with soil and patting it down with a reassuring touch.

Ross works beside you, occasionally glancing over to check your progress or to share a lighthearted comment. You watch as he tends to each plant with surprising attentiveness, his earlier apprehension replaced by a quiet confidence. There's a natural grace to his movements now, a balance of strength and gentleness that mirrors his personality.

The garden is taking shape around you, each row of plants standing tall and hopeful in the fading light. You pause for a moment, your hands resting in the soil, and look at Ross. His features are softened by the golden hues of the setting sun, the dirt smudges on his face adding a rugged charm to his look. His hair, dark and slightly tousled, falls just over his brow, and his eyes, warm and kind, meet yours with a look of shared satisfaction.

“We make a pretty good team,” you say, a note of pride in your voice.

He nods, smiling broadly. “Yeah, I think we do. Who knew gardening could be this fun?” He leans in, obviously wanting to kiss you but you laugh and cover his mouth with your hand.

“Have you seen yourself.” You laugh, his whole face and yours covered in dirt and sweat.

“So? C’mere.” Ross takes a step towards you and before you can flee, he wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against his body.

He leans his head down, to capture your lips in a kiss. You groan as he smiles into the kiss, aware of the feeling on your lips. “Ross,” you whine, backing away from him.

“What?” He laughs, throwing his hands in the air, “it’s just a bit of dirt.”

“Well yes, that’s kind of the point.”

“Alright,” he says, turning away from you. He picks up the garden hose and you think he’s just going to water the freshly planted cucumbers. Instead he directs the hose at you before he turns it on. “Now better?” He jokes, laughing like a teenage boy at your wet face, water dripping down your shirt.

“Ross!” You yell, “are you serious?!”

You run towards him to take the weapon away from him, getting himself wet in the process. His now blue shirt looks more like black and his bun is ruined.

You’re standing closely together, in a truce, the soil abandoned on the floor and your bodies pressed together. You shudder at the disgusting feeling, not liking when your shirt is wet.

“Look what you’ve done,” you look down at yourselves.

He raises an eyebrow, his hands trailing down to squeeze your ass shamelessly. “What I’ve done?” He laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

It’s more urgent now, his tongue sliding through your lips.

You find yourself lost in the kiss, the warmth of Ross's mouth mingling with the cool evening air. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer, and you respond with equal fervor, savoring the moment. The garden around you fades into the background, your world narrowing to the heat of his body and the taste of his lips.

But then, a stray thought of the scattered tools and dirt-covered gloves brings you back to reality. You pull away reluctantly, your breath coming in soft gasps. “Ross, we need to clean up,” you murmur, glancing around at the garden bed littered with gardening tools and half-empty wine glasses.

Ross groans, his forehead resting against yours. “Do we have to?” he asks, his voice tinged with playful exasperation.

You chuckle, giving him a gentle nudge. “Yes, we do. Come on, you know we’ll regret it if we leave everything like this.”

With a resigned sigh, Ross releases you and takes a step back. He grabs the wine glass, tipping it back and taking a long sip, his eyes still smoldering with desire. “Alright, alright. Let’s clean up, but we’re picking up where we left off later,” he says, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

You laugh, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through you at the thought. Together, you set about tidying the garden. You gather the scattered tools, placing them back in the storage box while Ross rolls up the garden hose, shaking out the excess water. The rhythmic tasks are soothing, a grounding counterpoint to the earlier heat of your embrace.

After a while, the garden is back in order. The tools are neatly stored, the plants are watered, and the wine glasses are empty but set aside for washing. You both stand back, surveying your handiwork with a shared sense of pride.

Ross wipes his hands on his jeans, smudging the dirt already there. He turns to you with a grin, his earlier frustration forgotten. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “No, it wasn’t. And now we have a beautiful garden to show for it.”

You smile and open the backyard door to go inside when you look down at each other.

“We need to get out of these clothes before we track dirt everywhere.” You laugh at the state of you.

Ross nods, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the dirt streaks on his own clothes. “Good idea. Wouldn’t want to ruin the floors.”

You start peeling off your grimy shirt, revealing a tanned, sweat-slicked body underneath. Ross follows suit, tugging his shirt over his head and exposing his broad chest, still glistening slightly from the exertion. He tosses the shirt aside with a flourish, a playful look in his eyes.

You can’t help but smile at his antics, feeling a flutter of excitement despite the dirt and exhaustion. As you reach for the button on your jeans, you catch Ross’s gaze lingering on you, his eyes darkening with that familiar heat. You slip out of your jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and look up to find Ross doing the same, his jeans joining the pile with a quick, careless motion.

You can’t stand the heat, that’s why you mumble a quiet ‘gonna take a shower’ before you try to head inside.

Ross is faster though, his strong arms are around you, pulling you close. You yelp in surprise as he lifts you off your feet, your heart racing as he carries you effortlessly into the living room.

“Ross, what are you—” you start to protest, but your words are cut off as he lowers you onto the couch, his grin widening. The cushions sink beneath your weight, and before you can catch your breath, Ross is on top of you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you into his lap.

You gasp as you feel the warmth of his body against yours, the dirt and sweat mingling in a way that’s oddly intimate. Ross’s fingers trace patterns on your skin, his touch both gentle and possessive. “I can’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You look ravishing like this.”

“Like this?” You chuckle, knowing that he means you looking like mud.

“Exactly like this.”

His hand on your cheek moves to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. It's soft, loving, his lips giving and taking everything at once. Your hands grip him, one in his hair, the other on his shoulder. His tongue runs over your top lip, asking for permission, you accept, holding onto his shoulder as tight as you can when his tongue begins sliding against yours.

His hands begin to roam, sliding over your naked body, fingers digging into your skin. You press more into the kiss, whimpering softly when he nips at your bottom lip. One of his hands moves down, ready to slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, you grab his wrist, breaking away from the kiss, “We can't, we’re getting the couch all dirty.

His brows furrow, one hand still holding onto your bare side, the sensation of his fingers makes you tremble.

He chuckles, shaking his wrist free from your grasp, “Too late, love, just stop worrying f’me.” His voice is low and breathy, making everything in your body tense and release.

“I-” you stutter against his neck, feeling his hands grasp your hips once more.

“Get up for a second,” he says, releasing you.

You stand up, looking at him confused. He smiles, moving back into the couch a bit, spreading his legs wider. Your eyes drift to the bulge in his pants, wondering if he wants you on your knees, but instead he moves you closer and pulls your panties down.

He pulls you onto his boxers.

He places a finger under your chin, making you look at him, using his other hand to grab your side again, god his hands are so big on your body. He pulls you into a bruising kiss, encouraging you to start moving your hips. You melt into the kiss, grinding against his bulge.

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, getting the friction.

Ross’ crotch is warm and firm between your legs, the pressure from your movements and the drag of your clit against his cock has you gasping. He kisses you wet and sloppy, moaning into it.

“Ross-“

You think when he grabs your hips and pulls you upwards he’ll grind you on his crotch again, but when he pulls you onto his belly you frown. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like, hm? C’mon, grind.”

You begin rolling your hips slowly, trying to get a feel for it. You are doing slow movements, grinding yourself up and down as you took your time.

The hairs on his stomach give you the extra friction that you didn't even know you needed, making you moan in pleasure.

Ross grabs onto your ass while he smirks at you. “Y’like that?”

"Uh huh, it feels so good," you mutter as your voice shakes from overwhelming pleasure.

You continue sliding yourself up and down on Ross’ stomach, while his hands hold onto your hips.

Ross enjoys watching your reaction, so much so, his boxers start to become hot and uncomfortable.

He lets go of your hips and grabs the waistband of his boxers. Ross wiggles a bit underneath you as he takes it off, kicking them off onto the floor.

"Ahh, that's more like it," Ross says as he sighs in relief.

"Feeling better?" you chuckle, reaching behind you, you give a quick tug on his cock.

Ross lets out a groan, followed by a small laugh. "S’much better.”

"Good," you drawl out with a smile. Leaning in, you press your lips against his, kissing him lovingly, and moaning into each other's mouths.

Pulling back from the kiss, you sit up, place your hands on his chest, and continue grinding on his stomach. After a few more minutes of you mewling in pleasure as you ride his stomach, you slide down far enough to where you feel the tip of his cock just barely entere inside you.

Ross clenches his teeth and digs his fingers into your skin as he moans, feeling the warmth and wetness from you, enveloping the head of his cock.

A small smug appears on your lips, you know he wants more. But of course, you couldn't just give it to him all now.

Deciding to mess with Ross, you don’t go down far enough and pull away.

Ross sighs out a 'fuck' followed by a groan of frustration. You continues to do this a couple more times, riding his big, hairy, doughy belly and then barely sliding the head of his dick in for just a few moments, only to be pulled out again.

You can tell Ross can’t take much more of the teasing anymore. He is whispering and moaning out pleas. His cock is uncontrollably twitching and dribbling with pre-cum.

“No teasing, missus,” he says, “wanted to do you a favor and you’re being’ unfair.”

You giggle and slide back down, right onto his dick. “Don’t want to, need you right now.”

“But-“

Ross never even thinks about his own pleasure before you didn’t finish and he rarely lets you take him without convincing.

“Feel me, I’m ready Ross, really really need you.”

Before he can object you’re already lining up your entrance with his tip.

“Christ, love, alright, you got me," Ross grunts when you lower yourself onto his shaft, your arms trembling as you use your thighs to hold yourself up with your head tucked into his shoulder.

“Take what you need.”

Ross lets you set your own pace, his hands holding your hips as his face scutches in bliss from the feeling of you.

The feeling of your heart beating so hard that he can feel it against his chest, his arm snaking around the curve of your waist to help you balance yourself out, listening to every small nose that parts from your lips.

“I love you Ross,” you whine.

As you shift your hips to slowly take all of him, coaxing the same moan from each other, Ross rests his head against your chest, pulling you in closer, practically hugging you as if his entire cock isn’t buried inside of you.

The feeling of him stretching the warmth of your walls makes you feel light-headed. Most of the time sex is like this with Ross. Sweet and slow and loving no matter who’s on top.

“I love you, darling,” he half groans pulling back to give you a sweet kiss on the lips.

Your hips stutter, raising them slowly before starting a more stable pace.

He tightens his grip around your waist, restarting himself to not snap his hips to match your pace, wanting you to have full control this time.

"Ross, fuck,” you mumble, the fan of your breath against his ear, slamming your hips and grinding against him. He feels like he is going to pass out.

"You feel so good," Ross rasps. "So fucking perfect." His words of encouragement make you feel drunk just from his words.

Your hips rocking at your own pace, it is starting to become unbearable on Ross’ side of things. His hips are trembling to the sound of your wet folds struggling to take him all the way down to the base.

The cool metal from his fingers brush against the warm skin of your thighs, his hips shifting up almost like he is struggling to restrain himself.

You look down and instantly recognized the pleading look, the look that tells you that he needed every inch of you. Your lips meet in approval as his hips bucked up into yours at his own pace.

“Keep going.”

Ross groans in agreement.

Your head drops in pleasure, resting your forehead against his shoulder, your moans echoing like a sweet tone in his ears.

He can feel the trembling in your legs, struggling to hold yourself up as he has his way with you.

“Forgive me, I’ll make it better in a second.”

The moment he pulls out of you, your insides feel weird, like a ghost of him still lingering inside of you pulling away as he picks you up by your thighs with a grunt, shifting your position so that you lie with your back against the couch.

There is a cute moment when the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, a dopey grin on his face being replaced with a moan that fell in rhythm with yours. You both feel reconnected, he slides his entire length back inside of you where you thought he belonged all along.

"S’better like this f’you, don’t have to hold yourself up," Ross explains, his voice low. "You gotta let yourself go, love. Come on, I know you want to." leaning down as you chase after his lips, kissing him deeply.

His tongue slides into your mouth, parting your lips as the rough skin of his thumb rubbed rough circles against your clit.

“Ross- I- fuck,” you moan against his mouth, too high on the edge to kiss him back. It’s just your lips against each other, messily trying to connect.

The new sensation is enough to drive you over the edge, and Ross is watching your body tense and tighten from under him. “S’good, darlin’ show me how good I make you feel.”

The feeling of you squeezing around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm, his thrusts stuttering as he continued to ride out yours.

His fist clench around the couch just beside your head as he ducks into the crook of your neck.

“jesus christ.”Grunting against your neck with every thrust, his orgasm un tumble the feeling from his eyelashes fluttering from squeezing his eyes closed as he falls limp against your chest, a breath being thrown from your lungs.

The feeling of Ross laying his entire weight against you comforts you and soothes you immediately.

He doesn’t pull out yet, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I can get used to planting shit ‘f it ends like this.”

You giggle and hit his lower back lightly but wrapping your legs around it at the same time, making sure he doesn’t leave. Ross is already familiar with how cuddly you are after sex and he doesn’t mind.

“I’m joking,” even though you can’t see it, you know he’s smiling against your skin in between kisses, “but we really need that shower now.”

Your gaze drops to the couch which is fully covered with dirty. Your eyes widen, “fuck,” you whisper which draws a chuckle out of ross, “how will we get this clean?”

“Don’t worry, I know how. Matty’s a proper child, I can’t tell you how many times he spilled things onto a carpet or couch.”

“Fine.” You’re not convinced but you have no other choice than to wait and see what he’s going to do.

For a few more minutes you stay like this, ross softening inside of you, giggling and keep kissing to show you just how much you love each other.

The both of you hiss when he pulls out of you but you’re close again when he lifts you into his arms again. “Let’s shower and then we’ll take a look at our masterpiece, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum, too tired to really say anything else. You let yourself fall against him, enjoying his presence in your home finally after he was gone so long. “S’go.”

“Think you’re a bit knackered.”

You shake your head but he’s right, he knows it and you know it.

“Alright then, let’s just stay awake for the shower okay?”

You manage until you both washed the dirt and sweat off of you, but when your back hits the bed you’re deep gone in sleep. Exhausted from all kinds of activities today.

[uhmprobablynot]

Sorry I’m a little late but I would love to see a part 2 to the bully fic, part 1 was awesome.

love your writing<3

The moment we have all been waiting for.... Bully/Jock!Schlatt part 2, the squeakual, hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the last one. I have a third part 2/3rds of the way written with a full full smut scene and minor angst teehee but I wanted to get this out to y'all asap,,, anyway enjoy!!

my friend who wanted to be tagged: @toesforhoesbros

Part One > Part Two > Part Three

The following afternoon came slowly, your nerves making the time seem to drag. You put on the jersey Schlatt gave you and left for the field. When you got there, you told the ticketer your name, and he handed you a pass. “Show this to the security guard inside. He’ll walk you to where you need to go.” You thank him and move into the arena. You find a security guard rather quickly and he walks you down the stairs to some reserved sears behind the dugout. 

“Hi!” a perky voice says from beside you. The voice comes from a pretty blonde girl who is wearing a similar jersey to the one you are wearing. “My name is Ash. I’ve never seen you here before.” You shake your head. 

“Nope, first time here.” Ash just laughs and gestures for you to sit next to her. You do. 

“My boyfriend is number 22, his name is Zach.” She leans so you can see the 22 and Carlton across the back. “Which one is yours?” You laugh nervously. “None of them?” Ash gives you a confused look.

“What do you mean ‘none of them’,” she air quotes. “You’re on girlfriend row. One’s gotta be yours.” You blush as you remember Schlatt’s hesitation when he mentioned the section you would sit in. “Who’s on your jersey then?” Ash touches your shoulder to get a look at your back. She laughs, and doesn’t stop. “The baby of the team, how cute.” She stands up and bangs on the dugout. This causes Zach to look up towards her. He runs to meet her at the net. 

“This is Schlatt’s ‘not-girlfriend-even-though-she’s-sitting-here-wearing-his-jersey-girlfriend’!” You blush as she introduces you. 

“No, no. It’s not like that. The guy barley put up with me!” You try to defend. Zach only laughs. 

“Well, not girlfriend,” he starts. “Looks like he has some explaining to do, then.” He smiles and blows a kiss towards Ash before going into the dugout. Ash looks at your dumbfounded face and cackles. She pulls you into her side. “I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you.” She giggles, then points out into the field. “Schlatt is in the outfield, warming up.” Your cheeks get warm as you look towards him. 

He’s far out, but you can see how the uniform fits him perfectly; the pants tight against his thighs, his short sleeve jersey showing how his biceps as he throws the ball. 

“Yeah,” Ash starts. “The uniform does wonders for the boys.” She leans in closer. “Especially their asses, I mean whew.” Suddenly, the cement under your feet is way more interesting than the field in front of you. Ash just cackles again. 

You hear a yell from the dugout and all the players from your school move back in towards it. Schlatt runs in field and spots you. He smiles, then sees Ash and it drops as his cheeks go pink. Ash nudges you and indicator that she saw what just happened. You went to say a smart remark but as you started too, the announcer started calling out the lineups. The game was starting. 

As the ninth inning winds down, your school’s team is one behind. Schlatt is up to bat. If he doesn’t hit the ball enough for at least the man on third base to get it home, the game is over. The pitcher opposite of Schlatt wipes the sweat off of his forehead, and Schlatt grips the bat harder. The pitcher winds. A clank echoes through the stadium. Schlatt hit the baseball and its moving high and fast towards the outfield. Ash and you grab each other’s arm, the tension in the stadium is thick. Schlatt runs and all the other men on the field do, too. Then the ball goes over the fence and the entire stadium erupts. The first home run of the season. Four full points to your school’s team, four winning points to your school’s team. 

Ash and you yell as the announcers yell home run and all the boys make it to home plate. Schlatt looks up at you as you pass it and you and Ash cheer louder. 

“Come on!” Ash says, grabbing your hand and begins leading you. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as she weaves you in and out of leaving guests. 

“The lobby.” She answers plainly, as if that would answer your question. Ash opened a door to a quiet hallway with seats that lined the walls. “The players come out of that door after they shower and get changed.” You looked at the door. She took your hand and pulled you down to a seat next to her. 

“Look, obviously there is something between you and Schlatt. I’ve known him for almost three years now. And he’s never brought a girl here.” You felt embarrassment flood your veins. You went to say something as you heard footsteps from the other side of the door. The door opened and a few of the guys from the team, including Zach, walked out. Ash stood up and ran into his arms. 

“Hey,” he said, wobbling to you as Ash hadn’t let go yet. “Nice to see you on the other side of the net.” You waved and congratulated him on the game. “Not me,” he laughed. “That was your not-boyfriend who won.” The wave of embarrassment came back again. Schlatt walked in at that same moment. “Speak of the devil!” Zach yelled. 

“We should leave,” Ash said as you and Schlatt looked at each other. Zach nodded.

“Hi,” Schlatt said. 

“Hi,” you responded. “That last swing was great. Congrats.” Schlatt blushed and chuckled. 

“Thank you.” You both just stood in the hallway, looking at each other. “Thank you for coming, by the way.” His voice was quiet and genuine. You smiled at his sudden timidness. 

“Well, you gave me a jersey and a free ticket. I couldn’t have not.” You smile up at him.

“Uh,” He stutters. “Do you need a ride?” 

“Yeah,” You hesitate. “If that’s alright with you.” “I asked dumbass, come on.” Schlatt and you began walking out to his car. He unlocks the car, putting his stuff in the back seat. You reach to open your door and he yells. “What are you doing?” You say, startled by his sudden yelling. He runs to the passenger side of the door and opens it for you. 

“I might be an asshole.” He leans on the door as you get in. “But I am a gentleman.” He closes the door after winking at you, then begins his walk to the driver’s side. While he can’t see it, you take a shaky breath. You quickly realized the mistake as the car smells just like him, and it makes you dizzy with a feeling you can’t label. Schlatt opens the driver's door and climbs in. He starts up his car but stops before he puts it in reverse. 

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” His gaze is pleading, the same as when the professor asked you to tutor him. Except now, it was hopeful too. 

“I’d love to.” 

“You’d love to?” His voice is soft, but his gaze is intense. You nod, not confident your voice would be anything but a breathy agreement. He smiles wide and genuine, and your heart soars. You’ve never seen a smile like that from Schlatt, but you would do anything to make him do it over and over again. 

Schlatt takes you to his favorite restaurant near campus, a small chicken wing place. He swore by the food. By the time the waiter had come with the check, both of your plates were entirely clean. You offered to help with the check, but he simply called you an idiot and handed the waiter his card. Dinner was full of laughs and Schlatt’s wide and full smile. The walk back to his car was slow, both of you wanting to put off the inevitable end of the night. When you get to the car, Schlatt once again opens the door for you, but this time offers you his hand as you step into the car. For balance. You try to rationalize with yourself. 

Schlatt closes the door behind you and enters his side. He starts the car and his music floods the car. You can see the lights of the city shimmer through his windshield. The entire feels like magic. 

“Do you want to get together tomorrow?” Schlatt asks you breaking the soft quiet and you feel your insides flutter. You look over towards him. He is watching his hands grip the steering wheel. 

“You really can’t get rid of me.” You say smirking. Schlatt chuckles. 

“As much as that is the truth, I also have some ideas for the professor’s project.” He looks over at you and leans on the middle console, his face coming within inches of yours. “And I would enjoy my tutors’ professional opinions.” He whispers. You glance down at his lips, unable to stop yourself as he speaks. When he finishes speaking, you look at his eyes, which are now watching your lips.

 “That, uh,” You clear your throat and look through the windshield. “That sounds great.” Schlatt sighs lightly before shifting in his seat. He asks where you live and you tell him. You feel yourself cringe at how awkward the atmosphere has become. You try to talk a few times, but it never feels like the right moment or the right thing to say. He pulls in front of your place. You get out of the car and Schlatt does too. You look at him confused, and he smirks. 

“I’m walking you to your door, least I can do for keeping you so late.” You smile and begin the walk towards your door. 

When you finally get there, you hesitate before putting your key in the door, and turn to face Schlatt. 

“Thank you again for tonight, today really. Iit’s been so,” You breathe in. “So wonderful.” Schlatt smiles at you but says nothing. “The game invite was more than enough, but then the jersey.” You continue needing to fill the silence. “Then you winning the game, which was amazing, and dinner and-” His lips on yours cut you off. The softness of his lips is contradicted by the slight scratch of his scruff against your face. You kiss back as soon as you understand what is happening, but he still pulls away too quickly. 

“Sorry,” He licks his lips. “I just really, really wanted to kiss you.” You smile and pull him back to your lips. He kisses you back. This time, though, the both of you are confident. He grabs your waist and uses your gasp to let his tongue enter your mouth. The kiss becomes a fight for dominance mixed with clashing teeth. Your screaming lungs force you to pull away, and the both of you pant, catching your breaths. 

“Do you want to come in?” You ask and he takes a sharp breath. 

“That-” He kisses you again, gentler but still passionate. “That’s’ not why I kissed you.” You glanced up at him and smiled. 

“I know.” He kisses you again, weighing his options. 

“As much as I want to,” He said, grabbing the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I want to take you on a proper date. I told you; I’m a gentleman.” 

“Well gentleman Schlatt,” He laughs at the name. “I will see you tomorrow.” You turned to put the key into the door, but he stopped you. 

“Do you think I could have your number? That way we can actually plan tomorrow, and that date?” It was your turn to laugh, but you gave him your number and finally opened your door. As you entered, he turned away, but you called out to him. 

“Will you text when you get home?” He smiles and nods and says goodnight before walking to his car. 

You lean against the door and touch your lips that are swollen from Schlatt’s own. As you get ready for bed, your phone beeps. 

Unknown Number: It’s Schlatt, I just got home. 

You smile and type your reply

You: Thanks for letting me know. Thank you again for tonight. 

Schlatt: It’s really not a problem, I enjoyed myself too, a lot. 

Schlatt: As for tomorrow, the library is open on Sunday and it’s usually empty. We could meet there like usual?

You: That sounds like a plan, same time as usual? 

Schlatt: Would noon work? I want to spend more than just an hour with you… Even if it is just doing history.

You: Noon sounds perfect. I’ll see you then. Goodnight :)

Schlatt: Goodnight Y/n 

You’re in bed by the time Schlatt sends his last message and you can’t help but laugh and smile widely as your heart flutters. 

The next morning, as you get ready, you can’t help but get a little more done up than you usually would. Figuring a skirt would help you look cute while also combatting the heat, nothing if not at least practical. 

As you walked into the library, Schlatt was nowhere to be seen. You texted him, wondering where he was. 

Schlatt: Walk towards the study rooms. I’m back in a corner. Was weirdly crowded earlier, the only seat I could find. 

You followed Schlatt’s instructions, and you spotted him in a back corner hidden by bookshelves. He saw you at the same time and his eyes drifted down towards the skirt, watching your legs as you moved towards him. Maybe a valid third reason for the skirt, you thought to yourself. 

“Dressed to impress, are we?” He asks as you sit across from him.

“Don’t know. Are you impressed?” Schlatt seems awestruck at your comment, flushing before nodding. You smirk. “What’s your project ideas?” Schlatt clears his throat. 

“I was thinking I would do it on the effects of computer history both when they first came around and now.” His voice was soft, shy almost. 

“I think,” you started. “That is a fantastic idea!” “Really?” “I was half expecting you to do something about baseball.” You admitted, and Schlatt laughed lightly. 

“I thought about it, but I hate being predicable.” He smiled, and you reflected the look. “Do you want to come look?” You nodded and moved next to him to see his laptop. Schlatt lightly groaned as you sat next to him. You looked at him, worried. 

“Everything okay?” He nods, embarrassed that the noise actually came out of him. 

“Yeah, you just smell really nice.” It was now your turn to be embarrassed.

“Thank you,” you squeaked, putting your focus on the screen in front of you. Schlatt, however, grabbed your jaw, turning you to face him and kissed you. As he pulled away, he smirked at your fluttering eyelashes. 

“Now,�� he said, pulling up his presentation. “Time for history.” You nodded and focused in on his presentation. You started reading what he had done. And you felt his breath close to your neck. 

“Schlatt,” you stuttered. “What are you doing?” he shushed you. 

“Focus on history, sweetheart.” You took in a shaky breath as you tried to force yourself to focus back on his presentation. He kissed your neck and you couldn’t help the light whimper that left your throat. You could feel his smirk against your neck. 

“When did you do all of this?” he kissed your neck again before moving back slightly. 

“Last night when I got home.” His whispered words fanned across the skin of your neck. “I had to distract myself from thinking of certain propositions given to me last night.” You felt your neck get hot as the thought of your door way flashed in your mind.

“And here I thought I pushed too far.” You whispered. Schlatt shook his head. His hand fell to your knee, and you took a sharp breath in. 

“Is this okay?”

 “Schlatt, we’re in a library.”

 “Y/n,” he said lowly, and a shiver went down your spine as he said your name. “I asked if this was okay, not where we are, my pretty thing.” The nickname made you close your eyes and subconsciously your thighs tightened together. Schlatt chuckled and his hand gripped your knee a little tighter. “As much as I take that as a good sign,” he moves up towards your ear before whispering. “I want to hear you say it.” You swallow even though your throat is dry. 

“Yes,” you whisper after scanning the area around you for people. His hand moves further up your thigh.

 “There’s no one back here.” His hand moves under your thigh before picking it up and draping it over his. “As long as you stay quiet.” He continues. With your thigh draped over his, he has better access further up your leg. “Come on, baby, keep reading.” His fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh. Close enough to your heat that you're sure he can feel in on his hand. His hand grazes over your underwear and your breath hitches and your eyes close. “Sweetheart focus, I would hate to have to stop now.” You whimper and he shushes you lightly. “Maybe reading at loud would help keep your focus.” You inhale deeply.

“S-since the 1940s, computer engineers have followed.” His finger tips grazed over your clit through your underwear and you stuttered. 

“F-f-followed,” Schlatt mocked, “I know you can read better than that.” Clenched around nothing at his mean words, and he pressed his fingertips harder into you. “Keep going.” 

“Followed Moore’s law, which is the theory that computer switches halve in size every two years.” His fingers pushed your underwear to one side, feeling the wet that has pooled there and dragging his finger from your slit before lightly circling your clit. 

“Take them off.” He whispered as you finished the slide. You stared at him wide eyed. He dragged his finger down, then up again to emphasise his point. “Stop being dumb. Take them off.” You nodded, removing your thigh from his, and moving your shaky hands up under your skirt before pulling down your underwear. He held out his hand, and you gave them to him, and he smirked before whispering, “Good girl.” Schlatt grabbed your thigh, moving it back to where it was before moving his hand back between your thighs. His hand hovered over your heat but not touching it. You looked at him, waiting for him to move, but he didn’t. 

You looked back at his PowerPoint and began reading again. As you read, his hand moved. His finger dipped down before entering slowly. You did your best to keep your voice steady as his finger slowly pushed in and out of you. Each time he did, his finger curled in and out. As you finished another slide with no mistakes, he added another finger. The stretch stinging but was quickly soothed by how good he felt. As another slide finished, he used his thumb to circle your clit. The mix of his finger going in and out of you, matching the pressure against your sweet spot, was almost too much. 

“S-Schlatt-” 

“I know, pretty girl, you can do it.” 

“In the 1920s, Nazi Germany transmitted secret messages.” His thumb sped up as he felt you clench around his fingers. “Alan Turing developed a computer machine to help decipher these messages,” your voice became higher pitched and airy as you got closer and closer to your edge. “This led to the development of the Turing Test, which tests a computer’s intelligence by asking it different question, it passes if the response can’t be distinguished from a human.” As you finished, Schlatt whispered in your ear. 

“Let go, pretty girl.” As the words left his mouth, you felt your orgasim flood your veins. You put your hand over your mouth to stop the loud moan that wanted to escape. Schlatt panted lightly as he watched you fall apart. He pumped his fingers in you a few more times as you came back down. Removing his fingers from you, Schlatt popped them into his mouth, cleaning them off.

“How was it?” He asked, and you took a deep breath. 

“Really good,” he smirked. 

“I mean the PowerPoint.” you give him an embarrassed smile. 

“Still the same answer.” You leaned up and kissed him, using your own hand to slide up his thigh. As you reached to touch his, what you could only assume was a painfully hard cock. Your phone alarm went off. 

His head fell back and he let out a frustrated groan. He sat up and kissed you before standing up. You laughed at the tent in his sweatpants and he flushed, pulling his sweatshirt down as much as he could to cover it. He pulled his backpack on and walked out before coming back to kiss you one more time. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, doll.” You bite your lip and nod. You watch him leave before going to pack up your own things. As your still damp thighs meet, you remember. 

That fucker still has my underwear.

[ratkingnezu]

The Drake fic from the poll, surprise!!

Figured why not give you guys the best of both worlds. :)

Enjoy :3

The boys had finished their festivities, and the moon was rising. Today had been their weekly hangout day, where they all get together at someone’s house, this weeks being Jake’s, and just be kids. Goodbyes littered the air as their games and leftover trash did the floor, with Drew staying behind to help Jake clean up. However, as they cleaned up, something was on the magenta-haireds’ mind.

“What’s up Drew? You doing okay?” Jake questioned, having just now noticed the somber expression on his best friends face. “Yeah, i was just thinking about asking a silly question, that’s all” Drew chuckled, playing off his tugging urge to spit it out. He wanted more time with his blonde bestie, or “bestie”. He didn’t really know yet, nor was he planning on discovering it, but he just wanted more of him.

Jake smiled at him, “Well i’m sure it’s not that stupid, cmon, hit me with it.” The response was a shrug, followed with a whispered “whatever” as he returned attention with him. “I was just wondering if i could.. like stay here tonight? I’m really tired and-“ Jake put his hand up and smiled, “Do you even have to ask? Of course you can dude, ‘mi casa es su casa’ or whatever the hell those guys say” Drew chuckled a bit “You’re so cringe dude, but thank you.”

Flashing him a thumbs up, Jake threw away the last bit of trash while Drew put away the last game. Jake put his arm around Drew and wiped his forehead. “Whew! Finally, thought that would take all night, good thing there were two of us.” Drew snorted, “Homie, there’s no way you’re tired after that. You’re such a loser.” Jake laughed and gestured towards Drew to follow behind him and to his room. “Hey man i’m gonna shower real quick, you okay with that?”

Drew shot him a look as he threw one of the shirts from the bed at Jake. “Why would i care? I’m not your boyfriend so i wouldn’t be all “wItHoUt Me?” Go ahead man” Jake caught the shirt and laughed, “Alrighty, thanks bro!” As he walked down the hallway, Drew sat down on Jake’s bed and pulled out his phone.

Drew started to think as he scrolled through social media, ‘Why did i say that? Am i stupid or something? Why would i care about being…’ his heart thumped twice, louder than subsequence. ‘Do i really like this guy? Am i really just another run-of-the-mill fag like Zander?’. He continued to question himself, slowly but surely digging himself a hole. One that involved Jake. He hated to admit it, but he loved Jake, he loved him a lot. He probably loved Jake more than that blonde loved Daisy, but alas, his emotions were going unanswered, unseen through the eyes of the blonde boy he’d caught himself admiring. He held his arms across his stomach, small tears welling up in his eyes as thoughts raced through his mind.

‘Why doesn’t he love me?’

‘Why do i have to sit here and watch as he pursues someone i can treat him better than?’

‘Why would he love me? He probably doesn’t give a shit about me.’

‘If i’m worthless to my parents, sure as hell am worthless to him, he probably just treats me well out of pity.’

Tears started to gently roll down his cheeks as the thoughts kept swirling, his lip curling back into his mouth and fastened to his teeth as he tries to not make a sound. He didn’t need Milo or Jake’s mom walking in and seeing him like this. Hell, he didn’t need Jake seeing him like this either. He wiped his tears with the cuffs of his sleeves as he heard footsteps heading towards the room. ‘Shit, he’s done already?’ He scrambled to mask his emotions as Jake walked into the room, fresh out of the shower.

Jake glanced at Drew with a smile but quickly noticed something was off. Drew’s eye contact now being dodgy, looking away from Jake any time he tried to get into his field of vision. “So.. uh.. anything new happen while i was in there?” “Nothing, nothing at all.” Drew quickly snapped back. Jake threw his dirty clothes into the hamper and sat next to Drew, the magenta haired boy trying to distance himself, for both of their sakes.

He sighed, looking at Drew. “Hey man, what’s going on? I know you’re “fine” as always, but it seems like you’re not now.” Drew pinched himself in the side to hold back what was boiling over at this point. “I’m fine man, really i’m-“ cut off again. He found himself somewhere that he never expected, though. Jake had pulled Drew in and held his head against his chest. The boiling only became more violent as it was now a struggle to keep himself together. Drew opened his mouth to say something, but got hit with the smell of his best friend. He loved how Jake smelt, no matter what condition he was in he always smelt like something that was indescribable yet perfectly identifiable; himself. A comforting, yet faint trait about Jake he placed on his long list of why he liked him.

Drew choked back his next few breaths as he struggled to keep his composure. Rather than give Jake sass as he usually does when he gets comforted, he couldn’t resist the urge to wrap his arms around him. He really liked Jake, he liked being held. He liked being in his arms. He WANTED to be in his arms. Jake looked at Drew with a soft gaze, a small smile stretching from his lips as he placed his hand on Drew’s head. Through broken words and the navy blue jacket, the magenta haired boy spoke. “You’re so fucking cheesy, you know that? I’m fine dude, stop doing this.” His fingers spoke other words, though. They held onto Jake’s back, his nails digging a bit into his skin through the fabric.

As the boy choked on his breath, he eventually broke and started to sob. He despised himself, and he despised how he felt. However, he couldn’t stop feeling these ways, no matter how hard he tried to push it down. Clinging to Jake, he tried to force himself away, his fingers spoke from his heart and his body spoke with his head. He didn’t want to lose Jake by saying anything, and he didn’t want to be in love with him. He had Zoey, he didn’t need Jake, right?

Right?

Jake held Drew close, allowing Drew the same grace that he had been given. He ran his fingers through the silky magenta strands with a small smile. Unbeknownst to Drew, Jake had been going through similar difficulties. He didn’t want to lose Drew, and he didn’t want to step in between him and his girlfriend. ‘Even if i can’t love him like Zoey does…’ he thought, propping up Drew a bit to hold him closer, ‘i can still be here for him, like a good friend should be.’ He was starting to feel a few small tears of his own growing on his ducts. ‘I… think i love him more than i even realize..’ he appreciated each slow motion through Drew’s hair, ‘But.. he has a girlfriend and.. why would he love me the same?’

Drew broke free of Jake’s grasp and quickly swung his head to the side, making every effort to cover his face. He was crying, he thought it was weak. He thought that if he cried now, Jake would see him as useless, pathetic, trash. During his attempts to stop the crying, he felt a soft hand rest itself on his cheek, one whose thumb wiped up the tears that had been smeared on his face prior. The hand turned his head to face the other way, towards Jake. Jake was looking at him, tears in his own eyes, and a soft smile on his face. ‘Fuck him and his pretty eyes… fuck him and his stupid ass smile..’ Drew couldn’t bring himself to swat Jake’s hand, however, instead resting his own on top. He wasn’t familiar with this, but he loved it. As he stared into Jake’s eyes he couldn’t help but let his tears fall, his thoughts fading away as Jake’s other thumb helped wipe his tears.

Jake held Drew’s face in his hands now, a sobbing mess of an old friend. But, Jake still loved him. At this point he’d memorized every bit of his face, every crease on his lips, every mark on his cheeks, how his hair swayed and how his eyes sparkled. Jake loved everything about Drew, he couldn’t stand to see him like this anymore, broken and uncherished, someone who hadn’t been able to let out his frustrations in a healthy manner since he was young. He whispered, “Hey, it’s okay Drew. I’m here for you.” His thumbs rubbed across Drew’s cheeks as he struggled to hold it together.

He wanted Jake so badly, to be held, loved, comforted, anything as long as it was Jake. Drew started to cry again, not being able to control himself as he tackled Jake in a tight hug, pushing his best friend into the mattress as he cried more. He always thought crying was something that made you weak, so why did it feel so good with him? He clung to Jake as he felt the hand hold the back of his head yet again, silently stroking his hair, reminding him that he wasn’t alone anymore. That he was more than just a tool to be used by everyone until he broke. Somebody that actually meant something to someone else.

He loved crying in Jake’s arms. He loved Jake. He couldn’t deny it, and he didn’t want to. He lifted his head up slowly and he rolled over to Jake’s side, slightly embarrassed about the outburst. Jake chuckled and held Drew’s hand, knowing it would help at least a little. Drew looked to him, calming himself down. “Thank you.. i appreciate it..” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on Jake’s hand as the blonde smiled. “I’m here for you man, you deserve a lot, and i want to give you everything that you want.”

Drew bit his lip, eventually letting go and before he could stop himself, he said in a shaky voice, “I want.. you.. Jake..” his face heated up a bit as he looked towards the blonde, expecting a disapproving stare or blunt no, but to his surprise, Jake still wore that stupid smile of his. Before Drew could take it back, the blonde spoke. “I’m sure i can do my best with that, you already mean a lot to me, plus i kinda was shooting for the same thing.” He laughed, “It’s funny, after I stopped with Daisy i really couldn’t look at anyone like i did her…”. His eyes lit up faintly, “But i realized the one i did was right under my nose.”

Drew could feel his heart pounding, his palms were a bit sweaty as he started to shake a bit. He never knew Jake would ever think like that, nevertheless confess to him, in bed, holding his hand. But.. it happened. He couldn’t think straight, but hearing those words made him smile. Genuinely. His lips tugged back at his cheeks as he kept staring into the blondes eyes. Looking at Zoey never made him feel this way, this deep of a love didn’t come from her, it was rumored to only come from someone special, and this boy, well, he was special.

[artsycervidae]

Moksha: Chapter 16

Another conflict breaks out, but Tetsuya begins to feel unwell.

Word Count: 4.4k

Double check the tags and stuff!

     Hinata perceived only pain as they dashed across the rooftops: they assumed how their target suffered, at least, trying to triangulate the foreboding presence. The exquisite agony jolting up their legs brought to mind bone fractures, spiderweb cracks lacing the infrastructure before being instantly healed over-- months of damage and recovery in a second. The smells, lights, and sounds of the district became ambiant-- an invisible cut sheared through Hinata's forehead, the acute sharpness of it familiar. 'He's with Tetsuya,' they realized, awestruck. 'Why didn't you tug your damn ear?!' Luckily, they had been going in the right direction, and the Mist tsuguko's rich terror served as a lighthouse, piercing through the district's saltwater storm and warning to take caution in the dark waters.

     Hinata went deaf and blind to everything else, their rapid tread sang out a single destination with every footfall: TetsuTetsuTetsuTetsuTetsuTetsuTetsu--

     And there he was: suspended, kicking and screaming, feet lodged into the demon's ribs, trying to push away from the wide-open shark-like mouth.

     Crack!!

     Hinata slipped into the Heat Refraction form and slapped Gyutaro hard enough to contort his head and throat. The enigmatic power that solidified and burst in their chest must have been Tetsuya's sheer fright, granting a moment's adrenaline. For a moment they were sorry to hurt the Kizuki so brutally, but they caught themself: how would he feel about that, being pitied when he clearly had his superior means of surviving?

     The thrill Gyutaro had at being caught red-handed was watered down by the loud buzzing of blood and bone filling in his missing face portions. The concept of a 'bare' hand ripping his head asunder aside, he could still handle the situation. The teeth that sprouted from his new mouth glimmered in a twisted, malicious smile. He had found what he was looking for.

     That gorgeous Demon Art forced itself to the center of attention, even as Hinata stole Tetsuya away in a blink: fine fragments of undead blood swirled and ashed against the air, a so-subtle tell of Gyutaro's intentions. Hinata's eyes alighted on the dismembered hand and as they pried the limb from Tetsuya's clothes, the poor kid yelping. They felt a phantom tingling, like imaginary insects writhing their legs against the cold dermis. 'His nails are blackened,' Hinata mused, only brushing the demon's knuckles once before throwing the hand away. They mourned its explosion into blood scythes before enacting subsequent destruction: the third Immolation Breathing form was significantly less effective with a retracted net, but it got the job done. Inactive blood rained down around the Slayers harmlessly before burning away into nothing.

     Gyutaro swore, though it wasn't entirely imbittered-- frankly, Yasumoto would have utterly failed his expectations if they had died from such a cheap trick. 

     "Whew! That was close," Yasumoto murmured. "What did I tell you, Tetsuya? He's a quick one." They spoke so warmly it had to be sarcastic. But they sounded like they meant it, and Gyutaro couldn't deny that he was satisfied: after all, the Slayer had come here for him.

     "Hinata!" the tiny Slayer exclaimed, shivering in his shoes. It took all of Hinata's self-control to tear their eyes away from Gyutaro, briefly investigating the blood seeping from the boy's newly acquired injury. Their face split into a grin. "Is that your first scar, Tetsuya?" The boy stammered, but Hinata went on. "That's going to be a cool one, too! He nicked your eyebrow, huh? Nearly got your eye." Hinata wanted to wipe his face clean and for a better glimpse, and tell him how impressively hardcore it made him look.

     Perhaps this might have been enough to hold Hinata's attention once, but not with the other in their company. Tetsuya's fluttering bird-like heart couldn't drown out the sensation of demonic cells cannibalizing and corrupting in a nonsensical cavalcade: the Upper Six was upon them again, taking advantage of a moment's reunion to swing his kama down. Hinata met the demon gladly, their cheeks and teeth hurting from smiling.

     The tsuguko jumped when his ally intercepted the demon, suddenly awash with dizziness as he stumbled too quickly away from the clash. He pressed a hand into his forehead-- hot liquid dribbled down his temple, on and off the makeshift mask. He quickly used his own sleeve to smear the blood away, bunching it up to apply pressure. 'Recovery Breathing,' his teacher's voice came to him and he began to assess himself, trying to stop whatever was leaking like a sieve while warily backing from the fighters.

     Hinata's counter was parried effortlessly and Gyutaro let himself be shoved back by the warm-hued sword. As he backpedaled, the Slayer relented, allowing him the space. Hinata knew he was only pestering them-- Gyutaro moved carefully, his awareness sharper now that they were all acquainted.

     "Took you long enough," the demon snarled-- at least, that was Tetsuya's approximation, given the creature's slithering voice. The boy was looking anywhere but at Gyutaro; Hinata, meanwhile, couldn't look away.

     "I'm sorry to be late," Hinata said, suppressing their flattery. "You haven't been bullying my young friend here too aggressively, I hope."

     "Bullying? He's the one stinking up the place. I'm only taking care of a problem."

     "I'll take responsibility for that," Hinata said and Tetsuya dug his fingers into Hinata's arm, shaking his head furiously. It brought the disgraced kinoe back down to Earth, if fractionally. They casually raised their swordarm and plopped their elbow on his head. "He's following my instructions. And I've been meaning to have you to myself." A beat, a laugh. "Oh, though, that's not what I meant. It's just exciting to see you again."

     Tetsuya was affronted-- he was not a stool to lean on! This was not a conversation between neighbors and friends! He was not going to be shut out!-- and he would have acted on this offense, were it not for the deliberate steadiness in the way Hinata's arm pushed his face down and away. His vision dipped, and he caught a glimpse of where his sword had skidded into the neighboring street.

     "I'll take it up with you, then," Gyutaro humored. "You owe me that much, if you're going to waste my time," ignoring the way Hinata's ears perked-- he didn't care if their declaration was superficial or not. He wanted to be alone with Yasumoto regardless of their intentions. He wanted to see the reverence and fright in their face with no distraction. They wouldn't break so easily, but he would obliterate them, gladly. Now that they had arrived, the boy was unnecessary. It would have been easier to kill him, but... that could come later.

    "Let's discuss," Hinata said amiably, turning their back to Tetsuya and facing Gyutaro: a hidden invitation to be used as a human shield. They half-stepped away from Tetsuya, their katana aslant and their left hand curled into a scribble of fractures. The younger Slayer followed in their echo.

     And Gyutaro and Hinata crashed again-- so swiftly that Tetsuya hadn't seen them rush each other, but felt it coming in the form of that 'mental congestion.' Any second, Tetsuya expected to see blood and flesh go flying, to see one of them cross from the living world into the next by chance. He didn't know which blade to watch, which magician's hand would seize its subject and with a flick of the wrist, behold!, murder the other as a final act. He tore his eyes away and sprung for his sword instead.

     Gyutaro knew better than to give either Slayer a chance to attack. He had expectations for the barb-knuckled hand now, thanks to the earlier demonstration, and he recognized the 'net' in its retracted form: its mechanisms couldn't be too complex. He caught each of Hinata's swipes, stomping into their space and forcing them to evade rather than attack.

     With not much time for their privacy, Hinata made their intentions known bluntly between the sharp ringing of metal on metal: "I'm here to help, you know," they chirped, "We've got so much more to gain, and I'd love to work with you-- it would be an honor, actually."

     Gyutaro's glowing lantern eyes flickered in surprise-- then he snapped back as Yasumoto grabbed Gyutaro's kama blade, where there was no flesh to lash into-- the horrible screech of mishandled armaments wrecked their eardrums. It was enough to obscure his own words, "Help? What makes you think I need your help?" Gyutaro wrenched hard but the artificial hand withstood the strain. The human let the mistreatment serve their jerky motion and had little issue swinging that katana around, one-handed, into a new momentum. Gyutaro hadn't discounted it as having a far better chance of beheading him; he intercepted it, his second scythe blade sliding towards the katana handle and locking on the sword's guard.

     The two of them leaned forward into their blocks, mutually trapped for an instant. Hinata reflected their opponent's once-confident, still-vicious smile. "What could it hurt to hear me out?" A threat. An invitation.

     It would be easy for Gyutaro to lurch out and sink his teeth into the swordsman's throat, then thrash them like a wild animal brutalizing its kill. But he knew Yasumoto would escape that anyway, so he settled for a moment's fantasy. "You're spineless enough to offer yourself as a servant already?" he taunted.

     "Less a servant," Hinata hummed, "more a sharpening stone." They sensed the same maddening, heart-bruising draw to the demon's unguarded neck. In their periphery, they saw Tetsuya rushing, scrambling for his sword and scraping up splinters in his haste. They had to be patient.

     Once Tetsuya's oversized knife was in the boy's hand, he knew what his body was telling him. He had never experienced an opening thread before, but inexplicably he knew for a fact that this was it: every thought, vein, and nerve was indirectly tied to the precise angle of the demon's neck. A swing of the sword is all that spelled his eternal rest. Tetsuya surged for the killing blow, feeling his weapon sail through Foliage Breathing's First Form, carrying it out as an entire gesture-- legs, stomach, arms, wrists, fingers. This was the opportunity Hinata provided, and he wouldn't waste it.

     Gyutaro's defensive doubt kicked in faster than his curiosity-- he heard breath rushing into lungs and seized control of the situation. He kicked out at Yasumoto's left knee. They predicted him (how predictable of them) and swung their leg back-- which Gyutaro anticipated and hoped for. He took advantage of their wobbled weight, swinging them wholly into the path of their fellow Slayer. Hinata hadn't fought being thrown, instead letting the tides of combat wash past, body going limp and preparing for collision.

     The thread snapped and Tetsuya audibly lamented with a desperate "No!" when the distinct severance, something like rubber or bone, snapped at the base of his skull. Then he felt Hinata land on him; their limbs twitched and curled like fingers of a giant hand, gently guiding him to his feet. He fumbled the landing regardless: they twisted and took him with their flight, arching midair and touching down on their feet while he stumbled, recovering himself on hand and knees with his sword half-raised.

     The demon wasn't blind to their unexpected harmony-- suddenly the Slayers were speaking the same body language, communicating intention without so much as a glance. And just beyond that illusory danger, a tantalizing prize. It had to be a trap. Why keep it a secret from the tsuguko? Why bring it up now, when Gyutaro could simply shout 'Hey, was that a fucking conspiratorial whisper?!' and destroy this delicate teamwork?

     Whether Gyutaro wanted to admit it or not, Yasumoto had captivated him. It was as shameful as it was appealing. There were cracks in the foundations of the Slayers' trust; that was opportunity in itself Gyutaro could use at any moment. If there was more to twist out of this consenting Slayer, he would fleece them both outright before killing them. He wondered if they would change their mind and beg for mercy from him at the last moment.

     "Well done, Tetsuya," Hinata murmured, but the praise was short-lived. Before Tetsuya could get to his feet, their prosthetic wrist contorted on its joint, snapping with such force it made the child wince. Battered chopsticks nearly reduced to slivers dropped into the kicked-up dirt. "I'm releasing my net... let's hope I can mitigate the damage around people," they said, concern only audible when they warned, "Keep a safe distance, okay? And don't neglect that wisteria."

     "What about you?" Tetsuya asked-- admittedly, most worried about being sent off like a burden. He wanted to tell them about the Foliage Form, and how he had performed. It had been perfect. It felt exactly like training. Had Hinata seen it at all? "You're supposed to be protecting people."

     "I'm protecting someone right now," they said with all endearment intended. There wasn't much else that could be said to convince the boy, so they hoped he would at least comply with a direct order. "I can't promise to kill him tonight, but I'll keep him from feeding. Maintain the area and don't let your guard down. Remember, there's always the chance he's not alone." Hinata felt Gyutaro's tell-tale swell of blood pressure, the hunching of his swollen shoulders building up potential energy and cutting short their rendezvous again.

The demon's newly-installed teeth chattered with anticipation as he mapped out his counter. He knew this district like the back of his hand, and it would serve him well to remember his bailiwick. As good as these two were in fighting, they clearly had to look for him to find him, improving their chances of splitting up if he lost them. He rushed again--

Hinata's nichirin gauntlet unspooled: a high-toned whreeee of some cable speeding along a spinning mechanism. The broken blade pieces glimmered into a sleek oily line. The fibrous tendon oozed from the gaps in their artificial joints and stopped in a jangling jolt-- Hinata kept the hand balled into a fist, so not all of the blade shards had been released. The result was less of a net-effect and more of an unbraided whip. With a flick of Hinata's wrist, the barbed strips slashed out across the air, but Gyutaro had gone low and ducked under the clothesline, arms raised and ready.

     Tetsuya's terror was instantaneous as the mental image of a predatory danger returned. A mantis, poised, barbed limbs striking its twitching prey.

     Despite all his logic and pride, Tetsuya stayed. He would have never dared to disobey a direct order from Nobutoshi, nor would his teacher have accepted Tetsuya's excuse. The boy simply had a feeling of intense intuition-- needles pressing into his brain that if he allowed Gyutaro to live, they would always feel cornered and helplessly endangered with nowhere to go. His mind blanked. His body panicked.

     Tetsuya's hand flew down to one of the wisteria fumigators, ripping it from himself and pitching it towards the oncoming monster. Rather than take this chance to back out, he stayed; against Hinata's instruction he bent his legs to merge into Mist Breathing Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash.

     But they were gone in a crash of violence with neither of them enacting their deliberate harm. Gyutaro failed to charge Hinata through, Hinata burrowed their fist into air; they tore each other's blocks and parries into pieces before vanishing into the dark. It was like watching feral cats have a knife fight. Tetsuya could feel the impacts and misses thrumming through the air, though they were moving far faster than he could comprehend-- taking turns chasing each other, armaments tangling like a nest of thorns, breaking away, chasing, repeating. Leaving him in their dust.

     "Wait!" the tsuguko cried out, to little use since the fight had already taken off, and he tried to follow them-- but that first step felt like plummeting into a hole. His entire world had become too weak to support him. His shoulders gave in to that malignant gravity and his sword nearly fell to the ground. His muscular system ceased to function from under his skin.

     Before wisteria fizzled from its chamber, Tetsuya's lungs snatched a gulp of breath, and with that gasp, he was fine. The defensive aerosol reinforced his safety, swirling and tinging the fog of his Breathing style.

     'What?! Huh?' Tetsuya brought his sword back up, looking around the hazy street as if the answer to the mysterious fatigue could be explained by something external. A stone, a hole, anything. 'A Demon Art?' The mere possibility of another demon nearby was enough to recompense for the moment's weakness. A shiver rocked his body as his scope of Yoshiwara expanded. There were so many buildings. So many people. The more he felt, the more his brain cluttered, the more his body hurt, and the more he felt trapped by this place and his skin.

     He knew now how Junko's skillset was so broad. Nobutoshi must have known about her proprioception, as much as a second perspective could, right? But then, why didn't he ever mention it before? This sensation was so overwhelmingly new, and Tetsuya had no reference to orient himself. There was plenty he had to adjust to if he wanted to fill the void she had left. He ran from the insecurities, throwing his entire being into the chase after Hinata and the Upper Sixth, drawing on all the lessons that his shinobi caretakers impressed on him, the talent that the Mist Hashira had instilled in him--

     --the potential Nobutoshi had seen in him--

     His breathing hitched and Tetsuya sobbed-- quite out of his control and with absolutely no warning. He halted and nearly fell to his knees, slapping a hand over his already covered mouth. His diaphragm hiccupped to life as if his body knew what it needed. His mind, though, had lofted far into the air again, reaching for some vague memory. Meeting Nobutoshi had been the best and worst day of his life: he hadn't known of the world beyond the Garden walls, beyond the attentive care of kunoichi.

     Now Nobutoshi was so far away, and the colors of that encounter had washed out in Tetsuya's mind. He couldn't remember the comfort of mourning the same person with company: his brain stubbornly fixated on the way Nobutoshi argued with the kunoichi when he arrived at the Garden, demanding to see Tetsuya to tell the boy himself. The Hashira had cautiously presented the news that Junko died against the Lower First. As they spoke, Nobutoshi wondered if Tetsuya had ever felt anxiety or premonition to such a degree that it enraged or sickened him-- and seemed relieved when the answer had been no. That was it. It never came back up again. Neither did comfort come when Tetsuya thought of the closest thing he had to a living relative-- the nearest approximation of an older sibling he could envision, who had known his genuine sibling, and who had fed him vetted knowledge.

     It was apparent now that Tetsuya only knew the parts of her others told him-- which was no way of knowing someone at all. The questions swallowed him, and he sank onto his knees, into confusion and despair. How could he hope to emulate the Garden's last true hero when all he had of her were scraps and shreds? How could he match her potential, parse the meaning of all these people and air currents and heartbeats and breaths and gestures? How could Hinata, whose merit lay in infamy, have anything to do with his saintly sister? Why had Nobutoshi hidden so much? Which of them really knew Hashimoto Junko, the bravest soldier of their lifetime? How could they all have left him behind?

     And despite being the one to open the door to this mystery, Hinata had completely forgotten Tetsuya-- to this he literally sneered, his sorrow souring into seething. They had been so caught up in their stupid demon-hunting, in their own agenda! Did they even notice he had fallen behind? Did they care?

     If they had considered him at all and stayed, he would have someone to ask what was happening to him. Why his brain was melting into a sludge of emotion while his body was still in one piece. It scared him to feel so helpless in the face of the universe. Was this how he would fail his family name? After being reared by his sister's personal friend, after being given her Breathing Style, was he going to always live in her shadow? Wishing she were here and not him? Did that make him ungrateful, or even evil?

     He whimpered-- truly a crying child now, the world crumbling down around him as though the whole mission and indeed the whole war had been for nothing. He didn't want to fight anymore. He didn't want to try. The sadness went hand in hand with frustration, bitter beyond belief, beyond any mood swing he'd ever handled before. It was too much. Tetsuya groaned, open-mouthed and trying to swallow intangible grief-- but before the melancholy could drown him, he snapped his teeth in the air.

     Hinata thought he was a burden. They didn't want him here, and he hated them for setting him up for failure and taking matters into their own hands... most of all, he hated how their advice was what came to his aid. He seized the anger they sparked in him: his back muscles tightening, his headache splitting. He ground his jaw and leaned forward into his pace, less like a boy and more like a rolling storm.

     The rawness of this fury-- he remembered a younger self, still practicing Mist Breathing footwork under his teacher's gaze. Inexperienced Tetsuya simply couldn't manage to complete the Sixth Form, at least not to the masterful Nobutoshi's preference. It wasn't enough to merely become airborne, to simply roll his shoulders forward and execute seamless katana swings, to throw all his strength into his core and arms. Despite Nobutoshi's best intentions, his criticism only went so far to tell Tetsuya what he did wrong before mistaking Tetsuya's failures for petulance. "Wrong. Try again. Wrong. Wrong. Try again. Wrong--" then silence, no matter how many times Tetsuya asked for clarification or pleaded for another chance. Tetsuya couldn't have hated Nobutoshi, not when he was so busy hating his own weak self. He had trained alone until he could prove himself to his teacher. Then things went back to normal so quickly, he had nearly forgotten the doubts he had in those horrible, lonely days.

     But now, those feelings were unlocked. His shortcomings had landed him here, in the company of the disgraced and demonic. He couldn't reason why Nobutoshi chose not to indulge the context of what should have been a simple extraction. Maybe Nobutoshi was tired of babying Tetsuya and wanted to see if he would sink or swim. Was his faith in Tetsuya real, or was that a lie as well?

     Somewhere deep down, Tetsuya knew this wasn't charitable thinking-- but here he was anyway. He molded self-inflicted righteousness into motivation: he would show them. He wouldn't be left behind again. He would grow strong and no longer be a weak, silly child meant to be protected forever.

     Tetsuya exhaled slowly. His senses sharpened: fine details lined up neat and orderly. He found himself seeking higher ground, getting further away from the feedback of society. The rooftops were a better place to be-- more open, which was bad for the wisteria smog, but a relief that dulled the sensation of endless activity, the hum and buzz of everything from dancing feet to vocal chords... and from that distance, a particular strife stood out to him.

     In the liveliness of nightlife, there was a blistering-cold pinprick somewhere beneath the layers of society. A hairpin sequestered in a pillow, where lying down wrong could do irrevocable damage. He struggled to understand fully, but he was finding his bearings, practicing this new instinct with careful sips of observation lest too much overwhelm him; though that once-bottomless depression served deterrent enough from overimbibing. Seething air through his teeth, exhaling it slowly, his self-pity turned malignant. He sought that familiar sensation, the needle among the wheat among the chaf. It was suddenly easy: there were two of them, with one moving faster than the other, but the latter making steady progress for the former. Some other demon intended to join, perhaps to offer aid to the Kizuki. Tetsuya directed himself to intercept their path.

     That intense presence kept his attention bobbing above all the dark, dense stressors assailing him and their accompanying drain. It was a light in the dark-- he lacked the articulation to express how so, but it felt good to focus on the demon, to analyze the hurt that they exuded simply by existing. It was the same discomfort that preceded Gyuta-- the Upper Sixth's grisly sneak attack, and it writhed somewhere in his right wrist like a living parasite, making him grimace and adjust his hold on his sword. The invisible scalding traveled up his arm, through his chest, and settled in the front of his mind.

     It was like being in two places at once-- he could make out the demon and its surroundings, polished wood, paper walls, even the vague sensation of warmth as they passed rooms of other people. His awareness of them allowed him to slip into their skin, feeling what they felt, recognizing their surroundings, imagining where they could go next... and yet, his awareness distinctly hovered over the entire district.

     In a distant body of his own, Tetsuya crouched to plant another fumigator in the rooftop shingles. The human form moved on, ensuring his fabric mask was on tight and not too-bloodied. His bleeding had stopped and so he no longer held a crusted, sticky hand to his forehead. The gentle hissing and sputtering behind him was his cue: he steeled himself and shifted his body weight to his toes. The mist pushed him forward on silent, light feet. 'Hide in the mist. You are a windmill, you control the blade. You won't be seen if you don't want to be.'

     Nobutoshi wasn't to blame. Neither was Hinata. The true enemy was the bane of humanity, the ones who had taken his entire family from him. The next time he saw the Upper Sixth in combat, the next time he saw that opening thread, he wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't miss. He wouldn't make the mistake of being too slow or weak to do anything about it.

[berryhobii]

Thread (pjm x reader) Chapter 1: Recollection

Pairing: Ares!Reincarnated!Park Jimin x Goddess!Black!Female!Reader, Reincarnation AU, Greek Mythology AU

Word Count: 3,118

Synopsis: You were his oasis where the water never ran dry. He was the garden where blooms shone like diamonds. His lips were of the sweetest ambrosia that made you forget your sour past, your embrace a blanket that shielded him from the nightmare that was his life. Your souls were safe in the hands of one another. Nothing could ever separate you, the daisy chain you’ve woven entwining your fate and destinies until the end of time.

Even when the blade cuts the vine and the petals fall into the fire, he will always find you.

Warnings: reader is super sad and depressed and grieveing, so is Taehyung but they show it in different ways, feelings of being incomplete/hollow, mention of reader possibly being su*cidal(it’s really just an irrational fear Taehyung has and I implanted it in kind of a double meaning), lots of reminiscing, reader and Jimin were absolutely infatuated with one another, mentions of multiple rounds of love making, not a warning really but the reader in this has Vitiligo!

A/N: Hi! I’m here with Chapter 1! It switches back and forth between the present and memories of the past. I’ve just done the memories in italics. Taehyung will be representing Artemis in this. I’ve come to realize that I was accidentally subbing their Greek God names for their real names which is actually really confusing!🤣I’m so sorry and I’ve updated it now to make more sense. Thank you for always being so understanding.I’m always open to criticism so please feel free to comment or message me about anything! Hope you enjoy!

~

“y/n…….y/n……y/n!!”

You were startled from your daydream by the call of someone’s voice. You blinked a few times before turning to the sound of the voice, finding Taehyung’s worried expression looking down at you.

“Oh. Taehyung. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He pouted. “I’ve been calling your name but you were daydreaming. Are you okay?”

No.

“Yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry I worried you.” That didn’t even sound convincing to yourself. Words dry and soulless, your heart aching as you spoke. You were lying to yourself and to Taehyung. Why? You didn’t know. You guessed it was better to lie. Saying the truth just…….

Taehyung looked down to your lap, his eyes glossing over at what you held. “Is that…..?”

The grey fabric stretched out across your lap but it never touched the ground. You didn’t want it to get dirty. It was still perfectly maintained, not a spec of dirt or even signs of wear.

The only thing was that single row of stitching in bright pink thread.

The thud of Taehyung falling to his knees next to you caused your eyes to sting with unshed tears. He carefully picked up a corner of the cape, bringing it up to his nose to inhale the scent that still clung to it.

The scent he’s grown so fond of. The scent of familiarity and trust.

The scent of his best friend.

Tears fell from his eyes, the droplets wetting the cape and sobs coming from his mouth. At the sight of his tears, your own began to fall, quieter than his but still just as powerful and desperate.

“I miss you….” He whispered.

“Ares!“

Ares looked up from where he was sharpening his blade to find Artemis running towards him. The man wasn’t in robes. Instead in loose pants and a an even looser shirt, hair pushed back from his face with a headband. The smile on his face was blinding. Ares wondered just how he could always look so happy. What did he have to be so happy for?

Artemis skidded to a stop, leaning over with a hand on his knee to try and catch his breath.

“Whew, why is your home on the top of this hill? The bottom of it is completely empty.” He panted, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Ares placed his sword to the side, standing and walking over to the large basin of water that sat to his right. “It’s good exercise.” Was all he said, dipping his hands in the water and then splashing it on his face.

“Walks to your home should be relaxing, not exhausting.” He panted out, lungs struggling to pull in precious oxygen.

“Why are you here?”

At that moment, Ares noticed Artemis had been holding something. It was a small box, nothing really special about it.

“Here. I brought you something.” He tossed the box to Ares who caught it before slumping over to the water basin and dunking his entire head into it.

Ares looked down at the small box, flipping it over a few times. “What is it?”

Artemis came up for air with a gasp, hair dripping wet but there was a relieved look on his face. He lifted the end of his shirt to wipe his face.

“It’s a present. Your birthday is today, isn’t it?”

Ares tilted his head, trying to think of what day it was. It was his birthday? To be honest, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’s celebrated his birthday or received gifts. It was just like any other day to him. The battlefield didn’t care what day you were born; it barely cared what day you died.

“Oh.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow. He knew Ares wasn’t the most social person nor was he very responsive to affection and kind gestures. He wasn’t awkward, per se but you could tell he wasn’t really used to casual interaction with others. He wasn’t good at keeping conversation, often responding with curt answers or simple yes/no. He was just the slightest bit oblivious as well which Artemis found hilarious.

Regardless, he was still Artemis’s friend and he wanted to help break that wall Ares had strongly built around himself.

“Anyway, I got it for you. I had to fight the Hydra just to get it from a shipwreck.” He bounced on his toes, punching the air to illustrate how he fought the creature.

“You can’t swim.”

Deflating, Artemis huffed but quickly regained his cheery smile. “Open it.”

Ares carefully opened the lid, guard up just in case something popped out of the box. Not that he thought Artemis would ever do something to hurt him. Millennia of walking around with his guard constantly up made it hard for him to feel safe. Even in the comfort of his home in his bed, for some reason he always felt like something was about to attack him.

But he never felt like Artemis was a threat. The joyous man was like walking sunshine, always so kind and gracious to everyone he passed. Ares wondered how one person could be so happy all the time, his smile infectious and his laughter resounding. Ares felt a little strange being in his presence sometimes—why would someone so social and lively want to associate with a loner like Ares? Artemis had so many friends yet he insisted on hanging around Ares all the time. He didn’t dislike it but it was unfamiliar.

Inside the box, Ares found a golden brooch—two pegasi facing one another, their wings outstretched and mouths opened as if they were sending out neighs of battle.

A weird feeling settled in his chest. What was it? He’s been feeling that way a lot lately.

Artemis watched as Ares just stared down at the gift. He couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit nervous that Ares wouldn’t like it. It was his first time getting a gift for the war god and he didn’t have a lot to go off of. From his observation, Ares only seemed to like exercising and being alone. And exercising while being alone. And being alone while exercising. Oh and plums! He found out Ares’s favorite fruit a few months ago. Ares didn’t have a lot of favorites actually. So when it came to figuring out his gift, Artemis just went with something small but practical.

“It’s to replace the clasps you wear on your cape. I thought it would look nice. Do you like it?” He wrenched his hands together. He really hoped Ares liked it.

Ares lifted his head to finally look at Artemis. He had no expression on his face, nothing telling Artemis of if he liked the gift or not. It was actually causing some internal panic that Taehyung has only felt that one time he broke one of the strings on Apollo’s harp. He only wanted to try playing it but it turned out that the harp only responded to its owner. Good thing Apollo was so calm and assured him it could be easily repaired.

“Yes.”

Artemis’s smile was brighter than Helios’ sun, his feet bouncing his body in giddiness.

“That’s great! Why don’t you try it on?”

You placed a hand on Taehyung’s hair, trying to comfort him and in turn, comfort yourself.

After a few minutes of crying, Taehyung regained his composure, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” It was his turn to shake his head. “I know this time of year is hard for you.”

That was an understatement. It was more than just hard. It was painful, depressing, and soul crushing. Most days, you couldn’t even rise out of bed, your grief and sadness weighing you down. But even the bed felt cold without him next to you. You hadn’t slept comfortably in 4 centuries, exhaustion weighing at your bones but your eyes just wouldn’t close. If you did get rest, it wasn’t until you crashed from being awake for too long. And even those short moments did nothing to alleviate your exhaustion.

You couldn’t rest if he wasn’t by your side.

“Why are you still awake?” You yawned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you stepped onto the balcony. Astraeus had laid a think blanket of night across the sky, delicately arranging each star on the dark canvas.

Ares was resting against the railing, his upper body bare and lower body covered with a pair of loose grey pants. You could spot the deep red scratches you had marked on his shoulder blades from your rounds of lovemaking. He had taken you higher and made you see brighter stars than the ones Astraeus laid in the sky. Your body was still thrumming, overfilled with the adoration of your lover and equally with the fading vibrations of your ecstasy. It had been your first time together and yet, it felt like you’ve been together for ages. His soft hands caressing your skin, his lips kissing every each of you as he whispered lulls of adoration and relaxation across your heated skin. You’ve never felt so safe and utterly enamored with someone in your entire life.

Ares was just…..everything.

He turned at the sound of your voice, smiling when he saw you. You had draped a robe over yourself, the belt tied loosely so he could see the expanse of your belly and the curve of your cleavage, all the way down to the smoothness of your thighs. Multiple marks and bruises laid all around, indentations of bite marks and bruises from where his fingers would dig into your skin. You were a vision laid out beneath him. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. There was no way someone as ethereal as you could be real, and even more so, be with him. He was infatuated with you, your happiness and pleasure his own. What a sight you were when you were overcome with pleasure—he was sure the image would be ingrained in his memory forever.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t feel tired.” He held his arms out for you to walk into, sighing when your warmth soaked into his skin. He hugged you close, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

You leaned down a little to press a light kiss on his exposed collarbone over a love bite you had placed there. The sight of the bruise just solidified that he was actually yours. Forever.

“You should rest. The last war stretched on quite longer than the others.” Your hands rubbed across the expanse of his muscled back, a shiver going down his spine when you graced over a few scars he had there.

He hummed. “I will. I can rest easy now.” You leaned back to gaze into his eyes—the brown irises; once cold and filled with a dull sheen had turned bright, filled with unspoken love that didn’t need to be voiced. When he looked at you, that perpetual sadness and void he carried disappeared, replaced by joy and an overwhelming yearning for you and only you.

He loved you. He was in love with you.

“So can I.” Your eyes shone brighter than the moon, deeper than Poseidon’s ocean and more captivating than a siren’s song.

He had to kiss you and he did. “Let’s go back to bed.” He whispered against your lips.

Your eyes glittered with mirth as you smiled at him. “Another round already? Aren’t you tired, my love?”

His hands ran over your waist and thighs, squeezing you lovingly and firmly.

“I will never get enough of you, my precious oasis. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of you on my palate, my hunger has only intensified.”

~

You and Taehyung sat in silence for a few moments longer, just basking in your memories of Ares, each one happy but with a deep seated pain underneath. How could either of you reminisce fondly when the center of your memories had left your side in such an unspeakable way? It was impossible.

You wiped your wet cheeks. “What did you come to tell me, Taehyung?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” He rubbed the cape fabric between his thumb and index finger. “We’re getting ready to go out. Are you sure you didn’t want to come with us? It would do you some good to get out of the house.”

“I don’t think so.” You woefully smiled.

“I really don’t think you should be alone.” Taehyung was a good friend. You were grateful he was looking out for you and you knew he just wanted to help but it just hurt too much. You wished you could relax as well.

You reached out to cup his cheek, running your thumb cover his cheekbone. “I promise I’m okay. You go have fun. I’ll be here when you come back.”

He understood the double meaning behind your words. I won’t leave you too. It filled him with a warm melancholy.

“Okay….call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

After bidding Taehyung farewell and him promising he’d bring you your favorite snack once he returned home, you decided to take a walk by yourself. Taehyung was right. Being cooped up wouldn’t do much and you didn’t really feel like interacting with others. Perhaps taking a walk will help you feel a little less lonely.

The night sky was clear but there were no stars to sparkle around the full moon. Artemis must be in a good mood.

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, the smell of crisp autumn filling your nostrils. The nymphs back on Olympus always painted the leaves in the most warm and vibrant colors of yellows, oranges, and reds. Apples were always the sweetest around this time as well.

“My love, look. I picked some apples from Artemis’s forest.” You placed the basket down on the grass in front of him. He had been leaning against a tree, eyes closed as he let the cool breeze flow over him. His eyes opened once he heard your voice, a smile gracing his features.

Your dark skin seemed to glow under the golden rays of the sun, the lighter spots reminding him of those patches of sunlight that shone through the trees and lit up the ground. Your orange robes fluttered around you making you look like the fallen leaves that cascaded down from the trees. You were more beautiful than Aphrodite. He was sure the Goddess of Love would curse him if she ever heard that but he didn’t care. He’d tell anyone any day that you were the most stunning goddess to grace this sacred land.

“Have you? They look delicious, my sweet.” He grabbed one of the crisp red apples, digging in his pocket to retrieve a small knife. He sliced through the skin with ease, perfectly cutting a slice and handing it to you. Your eyes lit up, taking it from him.

“You’re so good at that. You should consider cooking.” You bit the slice, humming as the sweetness hit your tongue.

He sliced his own piece, eating and chewing it. “I like to cook.”

“Really?” You dramatically gasped, turning your head so fast that your full hair bounced, the live butterflies that often rested on the curls fluttering from your certain movement. “Why have I never been dazzled by your culinary talents?”

The smile came so easily to his face. “You’ve never asked but I’ll be happy to astonish you with my skills.”

You scooted closer to drape yourself across his lap, your cheek resting on your folded arms. You closed your eyes, your different colored lashes brushing against the apples of your cheeks. He’s never wanted to kiss you so badly in his life.

“That sounds lovely. I’ll patiently wait until the day I can taste your cooking. I expect it tomorrow when I come over.”

He let out a loud “ha”, shaking his head is gleeful disbelief. “I’ll do my best.”

~

You could still taste that warm apple pie he made special for you on your tongue. Oh how you yearned to taste it again, to taste his lips after he took his own bite of pie. His lips just looked so appetizing and your heart was so full that you couldn’t help yourself.

You missed him so much.

Tears fell down your cheeks in endless streams as you walked, the pain in your heart numbing your body until you were just listlessly walking.

Why did that tyrant have to take him away from you? Zeus ruled from that throne, arrogant and commanding, demanding complete submission from every being on Olympus. And the moment any one tried to defy his power, he showed no mercy. He thought his word was law, that he could do no wrong. Taking accountability was like poison to him, even if he was wrong, he wasn’t.

And due to that narcissist, your love had been snatched away from you. Why did either of you deserve to be punished simply because Zeus refused to see any reason past his own nose.m?You could still remember the day after Ares was struck down. The images vivid in your mind but too painful to think about.

You continued your walk until you reached a small pond. Sitting on a bench, you stared out into the still waters, tears still falling.

A tickle in your throat brought out a song— Ares’s favorite song. You’d sing it to him when he’d return from battle, ragged and fatigued, he’d come to rest in your arms. You’d run him a bath, singing your lullaby to him as you cleaned his hair, whispering words of poetry to him that you had thought of in his absence. As your hands massaged his scalp, your lips brought him solace, each word strengthening the already overwhelming love he held for you.

When you finished your song, your heart felt ready to burst, the pain too much for your body to handle. You couldn’t take it anymore. 4 decades had passed without him and you think this would be the year you just completely give up but you knew you couldn’t do that. That would leave Taehyung alone and you had made a promise to him but….

“I miss you so much, my love. What I wouldn’t give to have you by my side again.”

“That was a beautiful song.”

That voice….you knew that voice. You knew it so well. You’ve spent a century ingraining that voice into your memory, being able to recognize it even in a room full of screaming banshees.

There was no way……it was impossible.

Slowly turning your head, you met a pair of eyes that you’ve stared into for hours—those eyes that had a fiery passion behind them when you two were in the throes of bliss, those eyes that squinted into crescents whenever they were happy, and those eyes that looked at you with such devotion and fondness the day he got down on one knee to ask you to be his for the rest of your immortal lives.

Ares….

He was standing right in front of you.

[skyward-floored]

if your still taking prompts what about wind and uncle wars causing chaos (much to time's dismay)

I got a couple prompts with Wind and Warriors doing stuff, guess they’re a popular pair XD

This kind of fits in with another one that was something about “Wind and Wars bonding hours” so this has that in there too

———

“Okay Wind, you ready?”

“Ready!”

Warriors rubbed his hands together, Wind watching intently, then stretched out his arms and blew a steady stream of snowflakes towards his nephew. Wind giggled as they blew past his face, flakes settling in his hair, then raised his own hands out in front of him.

The tip of Wind’s tongue stuck out as he concentrated, and he flicked his wrist, directing the snowflakes around him with the wind that rushed out of his palms.

“Look Wars!” he grinned as he guided them in an arch above his head.

“Not bad,” Warriors replied, smiling as Wind made the flakes move a little faster. “Ready to kick it up a notch?”

“Yeah!”

Warriors planted his feet more firmly in the ground and moved his hands faster, sending a much thicker stream of snow at his nephew. Wind easily blew it out of the way, then pushed it up into the air and kept it there, puffing with exertion as the pile of snow grew bigger and bigger.

“Nice!” Warriors smiled, then cut off the stream of snow. “You’re getting better Wind, that’s the biggest one yet. You can set that down now,” he added quickly, and Wind released the wind he’d been using to keep the mound of snow up.

The large pile fell to the ground with a thump, and Wind wiped his forehead with a tired sigh.

“Whew. It’s harder keeping it up when there’s more of it,” he panted, and Warriors went to his side, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’d expect that. Takes more Wind to keep up heavier stuff,” he said. “But I bet you’ll get better at it the more you practice.”

Wind nodded, but his face suddenly looked a little worried.

“Something wrong?” Warriors questioned, and Wind looked over at the snow blown all over the living room.

“Um... what are we going to do with all of that?” he asked, face scrunching up. “We can’t really leave it here. Mom wouldn’t like it much if we left a big pile of snow to melt in the living room.”

Warriors tapped his chin, realizing that perhaps helping Wind train up his powers inside maybe wasn’t the greatest idea he’d ever had.

Then a smile stretched across his face, an idea taking shape.

“Well... I have an idea of what we can do with some of it.”

(...)

About an hour later, Twilight and Artemis entered in through the front door, Twilight kicking off his shoes and immediately transforming into a wolf with a happy sigh.

“Happy to be a wolf again huh? I’m sure it gets irritating being unable to change,” Artemis commented sympathetically, and Twilight whined in agreement. “I don’t suppose you could sniff out Warriors, could you? I know he’s here somewhere, and we’ve got somewhere to be.”

Twilight nodded, and with a wag of his tail, trotted into the living room with Artemis following.

Where a huge snowball was immediately launched at them.

Twilight yelped as the snow hit, but Artemis only flinched as it poured down around the two, almost completely covering Twilight. She wiped her face clean and narrowed her eyes towards where the sound of Wind’s giggles came from behind the couch.

“I’m well aware you’re back there,” she said sharply as Twilight poked his head out of the snow. “You can hide all you want but—”

Two snowballs whizzed towards Artemis, one merely grazing her arm while the other landed squarely between her eyes.

...or at least it would have, except for the fact that Artemis turned completely intangible, and the snowball hit the wall with a harmless splat.

“Do not challenge me to a snowball fight lightly you two,” she said with a glint in her eye. “Only a fool would do such a thing.”

“Well then call me a fool,” Warriors grinned as he poked his head up out from behind the couch.

Wind held up a pile of snow. “Attack!”

Warriors then began forming dozens of snowballs, and Wind blew them right at Artemis and Twilight, who dove behind the mound of snow in order to take shelter. The two quickly began making their own arsenal and returned fire with equal gusto, and soon it was a full-on war zone inside the living room.

Time later came inside to his entire living room coated in a layer of snow, and the four who’d made it that way flopped in the middle of it all, cheeks rosy as they panted for breath.

“Again Warriors?” Time said with a sigh.

“We had to defend our honor!” Wind piped up, and Warriors nodded.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t want your sons and sister-in-law and dear brother left without honor, would you?” Warriors said innocently.

Time chucked a snowball at his face.

[bewitchingbaker]

  ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧

"Hmm," the baker rubs his chin as one hand guides a few cupcakes into a box, "Something arousing about ya?"

Those soft doe eyes look over the Scarlett Witch, taking note of all of her features. Now he had seen Wanda in every state of dress. In cute casual clothes, the most regal of formal dresses, and even some rather...lacey numbers that still made him blush to this day. But if there was one feature that would always get him going.

A small cat like smile spreads across face.

"I guess it counts as two," Chris begins, "But those legs of yours."

He gives them a once over, taking note of their length and how well they filled out those thigh high socks.

"I know everyone says your magic has a hold on me but it's those luscious legs that got me," Chris chuckles, "The way you walk with that saunter often makes me forget how words work. Then when you wrap them around me...whew.."

Chris wipes his forehead as if there are beads of sweat there.

"They bring me to my knees, mi amor~"

[ @illbringthechaosmagic ]

[yllowpages]

❝ I’m interesting, and you want to impress me. ❞

( Not exactly the answer to ' what do you think? ' he was expecting. ) She even poses it like a challenge — or he reads it that way ( as he does ) . And he gladly accepts. He's still coming down from the focus and the buzz of going through all the choreo. Flawlessly. ( And ending on that spin kick? Whew. Glad he suggested that one. ) It's been an interesting few weeks since rehearsals started to kick off. It's only Jordan's second week of fight training — with Johnny in the room that is ( he's sure Rachelle's been doing a great job training her the last few weeks ) — and while he tends to show off for everyone ... well, he can't say she's wrong.

He wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand while he catches his breath. His hair is tousled and strands fall across his forehead when he looks down to remove the wraps from his hands. The smirk on his lips is unmistakable — but so is the warning look the nearby Boyd gives him when Johnny meets his friend's gaze. ( Boyd is practically shaking his head with his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent ; he's reading Johnny's mind and saying ' don't do it, dude ' . ) His brows lift as he looks back at Jordan. He takes a couple of steps across the mats and toward her, folding his arms over his chest. ❝ So you admit ... you're impressed. ❞ ( Boyd sighs. ) ❝ I mean, I would be too, if I were you. ❞

@1nfamed

[neicywrts]

“I like my reflection a little more with you all over me.” ( eli x shawnie)

Ship: Lashawn x Elijah  

NSFW-ish

At first, Shawnie thought Eli was crazy for wanting to put a mirror on the tall headboard of her bed, but they’d used it twice so far, and it was…addictingly erotic. Being able to watch his body move on top of hers took her to new heights. How the muscles in his back rippled every time he pushed inside her. How his brown skin glistened when he broke out in a sweat. And when she was bent over in front of him, the faces he made←concentration and pleasure← encouraged her. Made her deepen the arch in her back and throw it back at him. The mirror was her new favorite thing. 

When they were done, or resting in between rounds, they would lay horizontally across her bed and look at each other through the mirror. She liked to watch the way she looked draped across him; how the arches and curves of her body coincided with the hard planes of his. One of his hands traced over her hip absentmindedly, the other was on her shoulder, holding her to him. He always held her tight afterwards, as if she would leave  if he gave her too much room. Well, she did slip out once or twice…or a few times. But that was earlier in…whatever this was (although Shawn knew exactly what is was but refused to put a name to it). Now, they were in this weird in between, where she could look at him and not feel irrationally angry. Where she was believing at least fifty percent of everything he said to her. Where the hate sex wasn’t hate sex as much anymore, but rather them getting reacquainted with each other’s bodies in the passion-filled, toe curling way they do.  

Dancing on the edge of sleep, Shawnie laid her head on his chest, hearing the low beat of his heart made her lips quirk the slightest. Eli whispered things to her every once in a while, and they were going in one ear and out the other, but he said something that stuck. “I like my reflection a little more with you all over me.” She looked up, he was watching her in the mirror. Brown orbs colliding with brown orbs. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Feeling a new spark in her body at his words. Because she did too. She really liked how she looked all over him like that. She wasn’t telling him that though. Instead she playfully rolled her eyes and smiled, “you’re tired and talking nonsense. Go to sleep.”

[book-place]

Chaotic Normalcy

Warnings: mentions of parental death, mention of fire deaths, foster child/ adoption, things on fire, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x teen reader, Steven Grant x teen reader

Request: Hey I saw you do platonic moon knight, I was wondering if you could do a moon knight x teen reader who lives with them thats around 15-16 and maybe they’re an inventor and really chaotic and help out with the guys (maybe a bit like jinx from arcane?) :)

Request by: @hutaos-gh0st

*not my gif*

Summary: Life with an inventor is chaotic. But that word doesn’t always have to have a negative meaning

A/N: This was incredibly short but also incredibly fun to write; I’m sorry I don’t know who Jinx is, so I did my best with everything else

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Coming through!” You screamed from behind Steven, who’s eyes widened and he turned towards you.

The man let out a yelp, and he quickly ducked out of the way with wide eyes just in time for you to run right by him with a frying pan that was quite literally on fire.

“What the-“ Marc said, standing up and quickly following you into the bathroom where you had taken the pan and thrown it into the full bathtub.

You dramatically wiped a hand across your forehead, “Whew! That was a close one!” Before turning to him with a large grin as if nothing happened.

“Wh-huh-how-“ Steven stuttered, fronting just in time to voice all of his incomplete thoughts.

“Good thing the tub was filled.” Your grin didn't once falter as you walked by the man, giving him a pat on the shoulder before continuing out of the room.

You had moved in with Steven Grant and Marc Spector ten years ago when you were just six years old.

Your parents had died in a fire in their family-owned fix-it shop that they worked at where they would fix broken appliances for people.

At a young age, you had inherited their gift for inventing and fixing things, and became sort of an inventor of your own. And even after they passed, you didn’t once lose your love for it.

At the time, Steven had been willing to take in foster children, and it had only been six months of you staying with him before he officially adopted you.

Marc had been hesitant at first, but he quickly grew to love and adore you just as much as his alter did, even if he didn’t let it on as obviously.

The American man followed you out of the bathroom and into your room/workshop, where you had already begun tinkering with something new.

Your mothers old inventors' goggles that looked like they were out of a really old cartoon sat on top of your head, just like they always did. You claimed they were your good luck charm.

He leaned against your doorframe, “Watcha working on there now, kid?”

You glanced up from your desk, dropping a screw driver and a couple of gears you had been messing around with before walking over and picking up a tape measure off your bed and striding over to the man.

“Eh, nothing much.” You replied, starting at Marc’s feet and letting the measure go all the way up to his head, “Just a couple of ideas I had.”

“Uh-huh,” He nodded, “And how do you explain the burning fire pan?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, standing straight up and looking at the results on your measure before walking back to your desk and scribbling something down in a notebook.

“One of those ideas gone wrong.” You replied simply, and the man knew better than to push.

He sighed, “Okay then, but be back in the kitchen in five minutes, Stevens gonna finish up making dinner for us.”

You gave an absentminded nod, already on the next thing and not even really paying attention to a word he just said.

Pretty soon though, the smell of your favorite meal pulled you out of your thousand-miles-a-minute thoughts and out of your room and into the kitchen.

Steven glanced up from the plates that he had just set down on the table, “Oh, hey, n/n.”

You hummed in return, already sitting down and munching away on your food happily.

The man chuckled in return, biting into his own meal.

The rest of dinner was spent how it always was, you rambling on about some new ideas you had, with both of the men listening intently and fronting whenever they had something to add to the conversation.

It was just how they liked it. With everything going on recently with all the gods and Layla and all the other crazy stuff, the sense of chaos- but also normalcy- that you gave off was refreshing.

They both knew that no matter how many frying pans you burned or crazy ideas you came up with, it would never make them love you or your inventor personality any less.

Like a Bee 🐝- @ip747 @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @jvdethirlwall

[eddswrold-fandicc]

Cola Losers

Bottom Edd

Matt leaned back on the sofa and flicked on the television, enjoying the great, refreshing indoors.

Tom and Edd were not enjoying the great outdoors. It was hot, humid, and they were sweaty.

But yard work needed to be done.

"Okay, Edd. How about this?" Tom pointed his hand down to a row of flowers by their fence, using his other hand to wipe the beads of sweat from hid forehead.

"Looks fine," Edd grunted as he struggled to pull a weed out of the ground.

The sound of a familiar voice interrupted them. The sound of an annoying voice, that is.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The known nosy neighbors peered over the fence with smirks across their faces.

Edd rolled his eyes and tried to ignore, but Eduardo continued, "Looks like we have a couple of chumps doing some work, finally. That yard was annoying to look at."

Edd pulled the weed out, falling back and letting his body hit the ground. He looked up at Eduardo, "Not as annoying as you. What do you want?"

Eduardo shared a side-eye smirk with his two house mates, then looked back at Edd, "A date. With you."

"Excuse me?" Edd was surprised at this; shocked, actually. He wasn't gay, and be for sure doesn't like his neighbor.

"As if Edd would ever go out with someone like you," Tom stepped in, helping Edd off the ground.

Edd wiped the dirt off his pants, clearly avoiding eye contact with his neighbor, "I'm not gay."

Even though Edd really wasn't gay, he was a little flattered that someone would ask him out.

"We'll leave you and your folks alone for a month," Mark crossed his arms, wearing a smug smile.

Edd rolled the sleeves up on his hoodie, crossing his arms in return, "No."

Then he felt a pair of hands pulling him to the side. It was Tom. He looked back at the neighbors, "We'll be back," and pulled his friend into the cool house.

A wave of cold air hit them both. Tom immediately put his hoodie on, already getting cold. Edd pulled his hoodie over his head, and hanging it on a coat rack. A little bit of his gut hung out as his arms lifted.

"C'mon, Edd. That's not a bad deal." Tom leaned against the wall.

"What?!" Now Edd was shocked at his best friend.

"Yeah, what?" Matt chimed in, looking as confused as ever.

"The neighbors will leave us alone for a whole month if Edd goes out with one of them tonight."

Matt jumped in his seat, "Ooo, Edd! You gotta do it!"

"What?!" He was now shocked at both of his best friends.

He crossed his arms, "Absolutely not! I'm not gay, and even if I were, I wouldn't go out with him!"

"But it's a month without them bugging us Edd! Do it for us. Please?" Tom and Matt puppy-eyed their friend, who groaned in response.

"Fine! But you two owe me."

Tom opened the door, elegantly ushering Edd outside, "After you."

"Shut up," Edd slumped as he walked out the front door. The neighbors were still there.

Edd straightened his posture as he and Tom made their way back to their neighbors.

"Fine. I'll go on a date with you. But you have to leave us alone for a month after. Deal?"

Eduardo smirked, "Deal, cola-boy. I'll come get you tonight at 7. Dress nice for me."

The neighbors stopped looking over the fence and went back inside.

Edd heard Tom whistle beside him, "Whew. Edd, it's already 5."

Edd sighed as he went back inside. Guess that's enough yard work for today.

He immediately went into the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Even though it may be hot outside today, a hot shower always feels nice.

Edd looked down at his naked body, watching beads of water run down it. He didn't have the body for dating. He thought of himself as too chubby for anyone to like.

The water stopped running and Edd stepped out, grabbing a towel. He dried himself off and made his way to his room.

"Yeah! Go Edd! Did you shave?" Tom cat-called from the hallway, seeing Edd only had a towel on.

"I'm not sleeping with him!"

Tom only smiled, letting Edd go to his room.

Edd closed the door behind him, and looked through his clothes. He didn't really have anything nice but something for funerals.

He grabbed the shirt, considering this was his funeral after all.

It was a black button-up shirt, nothing too fancy. A pair of jeans were decided to go with it, and regular shoes.

A knock was heard at the door as Edd was combing his fluffy hair, "Edd!"

"Coming!" He set the comb down and exited his room, shutting the door behind him. He saw Eduardo waiting for him as he made his way down the stairs.

"Looking fantastic," Eduardo complimented, looking Edd up and down.

"Let's just go." Edd shut the door behind him and followed Eduardo to his car.

"So where are we going," Edd buckled his seat belt as Eduardo started the car and began to drive.

"Just to dinner. Maybe something afterwards, if you're up for it."

Eduardo winked at his passenger, making him blush.

They arrived at a fancy looking restaurant after a short while. It was fancy, but not too fancy.

There was a waitress waiting at the entrance, giving the two a greeting as they walked in.

"Name?" She started checking a list.

"Eduardo."

The waitress looked through a paper full of names, tapping her finger once she found the right name, "This way, gentlemen."

She sat the two in a booth, asking for drinks and appetizers, and soon walking away.

Edd could feel Eduardo's gaze on him. He felt his cheeks getting hot knowing that he was being watched so intensely.

"You know," Eduardo started, "You look nice tonight. I mean- You look good in your every day green, but tonight..." He paused.

Edd looked back at him, lifting a brow. He continued, "... But tonight, you look really nice."

Edd blushed again. He saw that Eduardo meant it.

"T-Thank you."

A faint red painted Eduardo's cheeks, "No, thank you. For going out with me tonight, I mean. I really thought you would say no."

The two continued their date. They had interesting conversations, champagne, and desserts.

Eduardo payed the bill and Edd tipped the waitress for her hard work, and left the restaurant.

It was almost 9pm by the time they left.

"Do you want to head to my place and watch a movie?"

"We're neighbors." Edd snickered.

Eduardo smiled, "Yeah, what about it?"

"You made it seem like you live half way across London. But sure, we can watch a movie."

Eduardo smiled at the thought of Edd sitting beside him and being so close.

"Okay then. My folks might be in bed already, so it'll just be me and you." Eduardo parked the car and opened the front door, leading Edd inside.

"Fine by me."

The two settled on the sofa, choosing a film to watch online. They settled on some cheesy romance that Mark never finished.

"Here, let me grab a blanket. Gets chilly at night," Eduardo grabbed a blanket hanging on the back of the sofa, wrapping it around him and Edd.

Edd scooted closer to his date, enjoying the movie and the warmth of Eduardo's body.

He looked up at Eduardo and noticed he was staring down at him. Edd returned the eye contact, letting their faces inch closer and lips make contact.

Eduardo cupped Edd's face and deepened the kiss as Edd placed his hands on Eduardo's shoulders.

Edd felt a warm hand feel around his body, not getting too close to his sensitive areas. He felt Eduardo pull him in closer as he moved his kissing to his neck. And honestly, Edd found himself getting hard.

And he was also getting embarrassed by it.

Edd's face turned into a darkened red as he shyly bit his lip. He avoided eye contact with Eduardo as he pulled off to look at Edd.

"Aww, what's the matter?" Eduardo smirked, loving the shy look Edd was giving.

"Um- Uh. It's, it's nothing."

Eduardo noticed the tension in Edd's pants, "Nothing, huh? Seems to me like you have a little problem."

He moved back in and continued to kiss on Edd's neck, noticing the chills he sent down his spine.

Edd softly sighed and moved the blanket off the two of them.

"Do you want help with it, pretty boy?" Eduardo whispered in his ear.

Edd meekly nodded and bit his lip again. He let Eduardo unbutton his pants and slowly slide them off. He held his breath as he let Eduardo touch him.

Eduardo traced his finger up and down Edd's shaft before fully gripping it. He watched Edd's expressions, careful not to make the man uncomfortable.

He looked Edd in the eye as he lowered his head, licking the tip of Edd's dick. He continued licking the sensitive places as he heard Edd softly gasp.

Edd was trying to keep himself quiet as Eduardo fully went down on him. He started to breathe harder as Eduardo bobbed his head a few times before coming back up to kiss Edd's neck again.

"You look so cute when you're vulnerable like this." Eduardo wrapped his hand around Edd's cock and started to slowly move and tease.

Edd layed his head back and heavily breathed out. He used the blanket to cover his mouth, trying to muffle any noise he made.

Eduardo squeezed harder and pumped his fist faster, whispering praises in Edd's ear.

"Look at you. So pretty and vulnerable."

"I love the way your body trembles under my touch."

"You're doing so good for me."

"Such a good boy, Edd."

Edd was now a mess in Eduardo's arms. He has his legs spread, his shaky hands grabbing onto Eduardo's shoulders, and his head rested on one of his hands. He was breathing heavily and moaning. He wanted to beg to be finished. God, did he want to cum.

Tears slid down Edd's face as he was getting closer. He rocked his hips against Eduardo's hand.

"Ah-ah, pretty boy. Let me do all the work. You just keep making those noises for me."

Edd moaned into Eduardo's neck as his words sent chills.

Edd made his noises as he continued to reach his peak, "Please... pl- Please."

"Such a good boy, Edd," Eduardo rubbed the more sensitive areas of Edd's cock, sending him to euphoria.

Edd's body twitched and trembled as he finally peaked. He moaned and groaned as he shot his cum all over the both of them.

Eduardo held the smaller man and comforted him as he was catching his breath.

"You did so good for me, Edd."

"Such a good job."

"You're so adorable like this."

Edd suddenly shot up as his phone started to ring. He scrambled to get it out of his pants pocket, looking at the caller ID and answering.

"Hello?"

"Edd? Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine." Edd held his breath to attempt to catch it.

"Okay. You coming home soon?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be home soon."

Eduardo handed Edd his pants and let him slip them on as he continued on the phone with his housemate.

Edd hung up the phone and sighed.

"Sounds like you better get home to your friends."

Edd looked over at Eduardo weakly, "Yeah.. I better. Thanks for the date tonight."

"You're very welcome, I had fun," Eduardo opened the front door for Edd.

"I did too. See you later." Edd walked out the door and back to his own home.

He opened the door and was greeted by his housemates smirking at him.

"Soooo, how'd it go?" Tom set his alcohol on the side table.

"It went. We had dinner and a movie at his place."

"Did you have sex?"

"Matt!" Edd called out, feeling his face heat up.

"What? You look like you did. Your hair is all messy, you're sweaty, and your zipper is down."

Edd stared at Matt's smirk, unsure of what to say next.

"You two owe me," he started walking off.

Tom gasped, "So you did?!"

"You two owe me," Edd was already down the hall.

"He so did!" Matt chimed.

"You two owe me!" Edd called out from his room.

POV: they owe Edd.

[uhzuku]

That first camboy was whew -pats sweaty forehead- absolutely delicious. But hear me out!

What if Armin were to find out and be curious about it? So Eren let's him join a stream and the viewers decide what they want to happen. $50 Take off their clothes from mommymilky69, $75 share a kiss from thediddler56, etc. until sweet sweet reader is back at it with the $1K+ donations to make them...go a little further. How it plays out is up to you!

honestly? armin finds out after jean finds out.

tw: eremin ! — masturbation ! — camboy ! — camshow ! — nudity ! — handjob ! — blowjob ! — mentions of private camshows ! — femdom ! — cumshots ! — facials !

jean sends him the link to the active live camshow as a joke and armin watches it with genuinely pure intentions (he’d see what jean meant and then maybe tease eren about it later) but once he’d gone on as a guest he couldn’t look away, watching the way his best friend lazily stroked his cock for the camera as if it was the most normal thing in the world to him — and, remembering all of the money eren had had suddenly, armin began to think it was.

he watched until the live was over and eren disappeared for a private show with some user called cherryred (which apparently was common since a lot of other users started joking about thirty minutes before eren disappeared that ‘the cock thief has finally appeared to steal our favorite camboy’, not realizing that his cock was hard as nails and his balls were aching.

he had to learn more.

“so this is how you make your money?” he whispers quietly, and eren just looks at him with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. armin can feel a heavy tension fill the room and he can see deep down in eren’s eyes that his oldest friend feels like he’s being judged, which is definitely not what armin wants.

“i promise i’m not judging you for it — i um... i actually want to know how it works,” he mumbled shyly, looking down at his feet and missing the way his best friend’s eyes widened.

“you — you want to know how to cam?” eren whispers, swallowing hard. armin just nods amd doesn’t say anything back, refusing to look up from his feet. eren is silent for a moment before laughter bubbles up from his throat amd he can’t hold it back, full on laughing before ten seconds pass. armin looks up in surprise, not expecting his friend to be laughing so quickly.

“ah — armin, why didn’t you just fuckin’ say so?”

“i thought you’d be mad at me!”

“how can i be mad at you for something i do?” eren asks, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. he stands up and starts tying back his hair. “c’mon, i’ve got a show in two hours and I have to get some shit together for a private show that’s coming after.”

mommymilky69 tipped $50 ! [ take off your clothes 👅 ]

“gladly,” eren murmurs, pulling his shirt over his head before looking back at a gawking armin with a chuckle. “well? you said you wanted to join in, are you going to take your shirt off or not?” he drops his pants and his already hard cock springs free.

armin swallows hard, eyeing his best friend’s fat cock and fighting off the strange urge he had to drop to his knees and put it in his mouth. “but i — i, uh — i don’t look like you,” he mutters, making eren pause before looking at him in surprise.

“armin, you don’t have to look like me to cam — a lot of people actually prefer guys with your build.”

“really?” armin squeaks, and eren nods with a warm smile.

“absolutely. now get your shirt off, if you’re getting half you’re gonna do this shit with me, man,” eren grins, taking his thick cock in his hands and starting to stroke it. as armin pulls off his shirt, the sound signaling another tip rolls in.

thediddler56 tipped $75 ! [ hey you guys should kiss! ]

“kiss?” eren muses, a soft smile on his lips. seconds later he shrugs and turns around, gripping a surprised armin by the chin before locking their lips together and kissing him slowly, running his tongue across armin’s lower lip and being mildly surprised when armin opens his mouth like eren had wanted. the two kids for a good ten minutes before another ping sounds behind them both.

cherryred tipped $1000 ! [ mmm what did i just walk in on? ]

cherryred tipped $1000 ! [ (: ]

eren pulls back and shoots the camera a breathless grin, his lips swollen and pink and armin’s the exact same, the blond gawking at how his best friend had just gotten two thousand dollars from one person in under three seconds. “hey there, cherryred, nice to see that you’ve finally gotten on — anything you wanna see?” he offers, sliding over to his usual chair and sitting in it with a wide grin on his face as he returns his hand to his dick. “f-fuck...”

cherryred tipped $2000 ! [ yeah, wanna see the pretty boy get naked and suck your cock, baby (: ]

cherryred tipped $1000 ! [ but only if he wants to. ]

eren goes to turn around to ask armin if he wanted to suck his cock but is surprised to find armin already nude and almost on his knees. once the blond is all the way down he slaps eren’s hands away and takes the hot meat into his own, eyeing it with wonder. he looks up at eren, who sits back and spreads his legs before gesturing lazily towards the main monitor. “ask them what they want.”

armin looks over to the monitor as another tip pops up.

cherryred tipped $2000 ! [ play with his cock like you play with yours n roll his balls around in your mouth, babe ]

armin does as told, jerking eren’s giant cock with both hands while bending his head down and sucking one of eren’s balls in his mouth; the darker haired man let’s put a cry, dropping a hand down to the back of armin’s head and fisting it in his hair.

“oh f-fuck, man, suck my balls like that-!”

cherryred tipped $2000 ! [ get them both in your mouth and I’ll bump it up to 3k ]

armin reads that and immediately sets about reaching his new goal. it takes some time (and a lot of moans from eren), but eventually he gets both smooth shaven balls into his mouth and begins to suckle at them with his eyes a little crossed.

fuck, he liked sucking dick.

another ping catches his attention, and he looks over to read it while still sucking eren’s balls and ignoring the way his best friend was practically howling above him.

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ good job, baby boy — stop sucking his balls and focus on jerking him off ]

armin whines around the balls in his mouth before hesitantly pulling away. he’d not wanted to stop, but he also didn’t want to interfere with eren’s income, so he did as told and set himself to work on jerking eren off.

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ harder. ]

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ and faster. ]

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ make him scream. ]

armin did as told, tightening his grip and speeding up the pace, even giving the tip a few stray kitten licks to the tip and sucking it into his mouth occasionally. he’s in the middle of focusing hard on trying to find eren’s sweetest spots on his cock with his fingers when he’s surprised by three shots of cum to the face, shaking his head in surprise and making the cum shift all over his face as eren screams just like cherryred had wanted.

“O-OH GOD, OH FUCK — ARMIN, FUCK — FUCKFUCKFUCK—!” eren screams, his back arching in the chair and his hand fisting around armin’s hair as he shoots four more ropes of cum over his best friend’s face. the smaller blond squeezes his eyes shut as his face and hair are soaked in a wave of cum and doesn’t open them until eren’s relaxing in the afterglow. when he does, he glances back over to the camera and sees tips from cherryred pop up through his cum soaked eyelashes.

cherryred tipped $5000 ! [ oh my god ]

cherryred tipped $5000 ! [ oh fuck ]

cherryred tipped $5000 ! [ damn, i like you ]

cherryred tipped $6000 ! [ turn off the stream, i’ll be calling him in for a private show now. ]

armin turns off the live like he’s told, jumping a little as cherryred sends a dm.

cherryred — [ tell him pay is doubled if you join. ]

armin didn’t even have to think for more than a second — he was definitely going to see what went down in eren’s private show.

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Nancy Gillian, Tommy Vega

Warnings: Vomiting

Summary: A day of work at a festival takes a sudden turn when a certain policeman succumbs to the heat of the day. It's a good thing his boyfriend is a paramedic. Written for the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Dehydration.

All the love in the world to @bluenet13​ who beta reads everything, comments on everything, and is just the actual best.

Read on AO3

“It feels like we’re standing directly on the surface of the sun,” T.K. griped as he reached for his thousandth water bottle of the day. “How has this entire state not melted off the face of the earth yet?”

“Yes because being buried in four feet of snow sounds infinitely better,” Nancy shot back as she handed a cooling towel to a teenager.

“It does right now,” T.K. told her. “I would pay a lot of money for a blizzard to roll in and dump snow and ice and mayhem on us all.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Tommy said, prepping a bag of saline for a middle aged man on the cot next to her.

“Cap, it’s Texas,” Nancy said. “When is it ever gonna snow in Texas?”

Tommy smiled enigmatically. “Just saying, you never know.”

They had volunteered to take a shift in the medical tent at the Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival on what was turning out to be the hottest day of the summer yet. The thermometer read 110 degrees and even in the shade of their tent they were feeling the effects. They were handing out water and cooling towels and taking care of a steady stream of fallen event goers who were succumbing to the heat with everything from sunburn to heat stroke. 

“I think my shoes are melting to the asphalt,” T.K. said, picking up his feet to check.

“Ugh, Cap, seriously I’m going to strip off and go naked in a minute,” Nancy said, pulling at the collar of her sweaty t-shirt. 

“Drink some water,” Tommy advised, immune to their childlike shenanigans and whining. “The sun should start to drop in an hour and that’ll cool things down a bit.”

“By a bit do you mean like forty degrees? Because that’s about what it’s going to take to get anyone comfortable,” T.K. told her. 

“Hey,” Nancy caught his eye and nodded toward something outside the tent.

T.K. followed her gaze and his complaints about the heat vanishing as he spotted his boyfriend across the way. Carlos was working security today, but T.K. hadn’t seen him since they’d arrived. There had only been time for a quick hello and then they were busy setting up their tent. Carlos had disappeared into the crowd and now T.K. watched as he knelt beside a little boy who had dropped his cotton candy and appeared inconsolable, the sweet sugar melting immediately into a sticky puddle on the ground.

“Whew, I think it just went up another few degrees in here,” Tommy teased. “The way you two look at each other could melt an iceberg.”

T.K. rolled his eyes at his boss’ teasing, but the silly smile he was wearing stayed in place. He loved being able to spot his boyfriend when they were both working. There was something comforting about seeing the little pieces of each other’s days. 

The little boy’s dad appeared, a new cotton candy in hand and Carlos rose as they walked away, putting his hands on his hips and looking in the direction of the medical tent. T.K. sent him a wave, but Carlos didn’t seem to notice. T.K. watched as his boyfriend pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. A wisp of concern threaded its way through T.K.’s center. “Does he look weird to you?” he asked.

“What?” Nancy said, distracted by a stack of ice packs that had just gone tumbling to the ground.

“Carlos, he doesn’t look right.”

“It’s like a thousand freaking degrees out here. If Carlos looks slightly less god-like today than usual, that’s not his fault,” Nancy huffed, wiping a strand of sweaty, limp hair from her forehead.

“No, I think something’s wrong,” T.K. said, taking a few steps toward the edge of the tent. 

Carlos leaned against the side of a food stall and T.K.’s concern doubled. “Cap,” he said, turning to ask for permission.

“Go,” Tommy told him with a nod. “We’re good in here for a couple minutes.”

He didn’t hesitate, moving quickly through the crowd, sidestepping the puddle of cotton candy and weaving past a man carrying a large cloud of balloons to reach Carlos’ side.

His boyfriend didn’t look up as he approached, eyes closed, his face pale, breathing labored. “Hey,” T.K. said when he reached Carlos’ side.

Carlos opened his eyes slowly, like it was taking him a lot of effort. “Oh, hey,” he said, giving T.K. a lopsided smile.

“Are you okay?” T.K. asked, putting a hand to Carlos’ forehead and reaching for his wrist to take his pulse.

“I’m uh, I don’t know,” he admitted, eyes squinting against the light. “I feel a little off.”

T.K.’s felt his own pulse quicken. It was very unlike Carlos to admit he was unwell, especially when he was working. “Off how?” he asked, although he already had a creeping suspicion. At the very least his boyfriend was dehydrated, and based on his symptoms it seemed like he was quickly heading downhill toward something more serious.

“My head is…” Carlos kind of trailed off, swallowing hard again, a hand going to his stomach.

T.K. cupped his cheek. Carlos’ eyes were slightly glazed and he seemed unsteady on his feet. “Let’s get you out of the heat, all right?” T.K. said, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

“I need to get back—“

“Not right now you don’t,” T.K. said firmly. “Just a few minutes okay?”

Carlos nodded and leaned heavily on him, both of them walking slowly toward the medical tent. T.K. felt the moment his knees gave out, sending both of them sagging toward the ground. “Whoa, Carlos hey!” he shouted, struggling to keep them both upright.

Nancy vaulted over a picnic bench and came running toward them, putting her arm under Carlos’ other shoulder so they could walk him toward the tent and deposit him on a cot. “I’m okay,” he mumbled as they got him situated.

“No babe, you’re not,” T.K. said worriedly, reaching for his stethoscope.

“Carlos, I’m about to get a little frisky with you, but I don’t think T.K. will mind, all right?” Nancy said as she began unbuttoning Carlos’ uniform.

His Austin PD t-shirt underneath was soaked with sweat, which was better than the alternative in this case, but still not great T.K. thought grimly as he took his boyfriend’s blood pressure.

“T.K. what do you need?” Tommy called out from the other side of the tent where she was dealing with a woman in a similar situation.

“I think it’s borderline heat stroke,” T.K. called out. “Pulse is rapid and weak, skin is clammy.”

“Get him started on saline,” Tommy directed. “And if he can keep some liquid down we’ve got Gatorade over there.” She nodded toward a large Igloo cooler, full of ice, water, and sports drinks.

“I got it,” Nancy said, grabbing a bottle as T.K. prepped a line and deftly inserted it into his boyfriend’s arm. 

“Let’s get some wet towels too,” T.K. said. 

“On it.” Nancy was already moving, reaching for a stack of folded towels brought for just this purpose. 

They put cool cloths on his forehead, into his armpits, around his groin. Carlos shivered eyes tightly closed in discomfort, but he didn’t complain. 

“How you doing babe?” T.K. asked, hands cracking open a water bottle and pouring it over another towel until the entire thing was damp.

“My head’s spinning,” Carlos said, eyes closed, breathing shallow and fast, causing his chest to heave. 

“I’m sorry,” T.K. said sympathetically, sparing half a second to press a kiss to his forehead, frowning at the heat rolling off his skin. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise. This IV is going to help with the dehydration and we’re going to use these wet towels to cool you off. Just hang in there.”

Another volunteer medic arrived at the tent, a gurney in tow. “Got another one for you Gillian!” he called. 

Nancy looked at T.K. who nodded. “I’m good,” he said. “Go ahead.”

He settled onto a folding chair by Carlos’ head. “Let’s see if you can drink some of this, okay?” he asked, opening a bottle of Gatorade.

He helped Carlos lift his head and take a few sips. Carlos winced as the flavor hit his tongue. “Sorry,” T.K. said. “I know it’s not your favorite, but this is what they gave us.”

“It’s fine,” Carlos said, his voice breathy and strained.

T.K. took a wet towel and ran it gently across his forehead, over his cheeks, down his neck. “Feeling any better?” he asked, glancing up at the IV to make sure it was still doing its work. A quarter of the bag was gone so hopefully Carlos would feel the effects soon.

“Maybe?” Carlos said, his face still tight with discomfort. “I just feel weird.”

He grimaced and stiffened. “What’s wrong?” T.K. asked.

“My stomach.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t feel good.”

T.K. grabbed an emesis bag just in time, propping Carlos up so he could empty the Gatorade from his stomach. He groaned as he laid back down and T.K. began replacing the now warm towels with cooler, wetter ones. 

“Deep breaths,” T.K. encouraged as Carlos swallowed and frowned at the acrid taste now in his mouth. “This is going to pass, I promise.”

He resumed running the cool cloth over Carlos’ face. “What happened babe? You’ve clearly been feeling like crap for a while. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, closing his eyes. “It’s been busy. Lost kids, lost purses, teenagers looking for trouble.”

“I know, but you still have to take care of yourself,” T.K. said.

“Save the lecture T.K.,” Tommy said quietly as she walked by with a box of mini sunscreen bottles. 

T.K. closed his mouth. She was right. Carlos wasn’t in any shape to be told he’d messed up, the consequences were enough of a reminder. 

T.K. threaded his fingers through Carlos’ sweaty curls. “How’s the stomach?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos said.

Color was coming back to his face and his breathing had slowed. “Let’s try some more Gatorade okay?” T.K. suggested.

Carlos wrinkled his nose but nodded. This time the liquid stayed down and T.K. left him to sip it on his own, while he tended to a few other patients who had begun to trickle in.

He dealt with a skinned knee, a teenager who’d overindulged on corn dogs, and a man who thought he was having a heart attack but it turned out he’d also overindulged on corn dogs. “Heartburn’s a bitch,” T.K. told him sympathetically as he doled out Pepto Bismol.

“Dude, where do you think you’re going?” T.K. heard Nancy ask from behind him.

He turned to find Carlos re-buttoning his uniform shirt, his legs hanging over the edge of the cot. “I’m still at work,” Carlos was telling her. “I need to get back.”

“Buddy you freaking passed out in your boyfriend’s arms like a woman in a regency novel half an hour ago. He’s not going to let you leave,” Nancy told him, arms crossed.

“Nance, come on,” Carlos said, flashing her that charming, sweet face that usually got him whatever he wanted. “I’m fine. You’ve got other people to worry about, let me get out of your hair.”

He stood up and T.K. watched in amusement as Nancy bodily blocked his path. “Don’t give me that look Reyes. Those eyes only work on your boyfriend,” she told him. “Sit down or be sedated.”

“Nancy—“

“You heard me.”

Carlos sat back down on the cot. Nancy nodded. “Good choice.”

She moved toward T.K. who sent her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the assist.”

Nancy thrust her chin up at him and gave him a fist bump. “I got your back.”

T.K. finished up with heartburn man, stripping off his gloves to put on a fresh pair as he walked back to Carlos’ cot. “Smart to stay on Nancy’s good side,” T.K. told him with an amused smile. 

“Yeah she’s kind of terrifying when she’s working,” Carlos said, peeking around him to make sure she wasn’t listening.

T.K. took Carlos’ pulse and his temperature, before reaching for his stethoscope and a bp cuff. “How’s your headache?” he asked.

“It’s fine.”

“Fine? Or gone?” T.K. asked.

Carlos avoided his gaze. “It’s fine,” he repeated.

T.K. sighed and leveled him with a look. “Babe.”

“It’s just a headache,” Carlos said. “People get headaches.”

“Well between that and the fact that your blood pressure is still low, I’d say you’re still dehydrated. Which means you’re not going anywhere.”

“T.K.!”

T.K. cupped the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together and dropping his voice so only Carlos could hear. “I am not sending you back out there today. You’re dehydrated, tired, and have heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke. It’s not safe. You wouldn’t send me into a firefight unarmed, so please don’t ask me not to do my job for you, okay?”

He felt the fight go out of his boyfriend, another sign that he wasn’t feeling up to par. A clear headed and healthy Carlos Reyes would not have backed down so easily. “I have to radio my boss.”

“Okay. We can do that,” T.K. said. “I want you on another bag of saline.”

“Seriously?”

In response T.K. cupped Carlos’ chin in his hand. “I love you.”

Carlos closed his eyes. “I know. But another entire bag?”

“And a bottle of water,” T.K. said, releasing him and putting a bottle in his hand. “And then you’re going home.”

“I want a second opinion,” Carlos grumbled as T.K. detached the empty IV bag and started a new one.

“In case Nancy didn’t make it clear, we’re all of the same opinion in here. And that opinion is that you shouldn’t die at a Hot Sauce Festival. Not a good look my love.”

[embrassemoi]

Saudade 𐂂 J.P

Summary: James Potter realized he spent years chasing after the wrong girl. But is it too late to finally tell you how he feels?

Pairings: James Potter x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans, Sirius Black x Reader 

Content: Jealousy, pining, unrequited love, brief mentions of NSFW, NOTHING EXPLICIT, angst, no spell check, first fic ever!

The Gryffindor common room was in full swing as soon as the sun set. They had just won the last match of the year against Slytherin. With the rivalry between the two houses, well amongst all of the houses viruses Slytherin, the celebration was inclusive. Students second year and up from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were asked to celebrate alongside the red and gold. It was a petty move, disrespectful at most. Nonetheless, the party was vibrant and was nowhere close to ending.

In the corner leaning against the wall closest to the drinks, James was already on his third glass of firewhiskey, chatting away quietly with Sirius alongside a couple of other Gryffindors on the quidditch team, planning out the next years team. Out of the corner of his eyes, James sees the entrance to the common room open. Curious to who would come to the party this late, he extends his neck only to see you enter the room, hands filled with small wrapped gifts and dressed in a short yet casual dress. Turning to talk to Lily, James' eyes never wavered, even with the presence of fiery-red hair.

It was shocking to him, he didn't expect you to come, you weren't known to party until he remembered that you were dating Sirius who joined the quidditch team this year. Of course, you would come to congratulate him.

You and James were first introduced by Remus. You and Remus had rather an academic friendship at first until she had stumbled upon him in the hospital wing after a nasty full moon. Soon afterwards, a beautiful friendship bloomed that rivalled his friendship with the Marauders until Sirius, James, and Peter forced him to introduce you to them.

In all honesty, James had not paid you attention when you two were first introduced. He admitted, you were pretty, smart, and had a fun personality. That was rare, indeed rare when someone had the full package but nobody could compare to his hyper fixation on the so-called love of his life, his Lily-Pad, the girl of his dreams. But that was two years ago and over time, the constant rejection from Lily had caused James to lose confidence. The chase was no longer fun, her irritated attitude towards him had worn him down. However, James continued to engage in the push and pull with Lily. It was mostly out of habit and his hard work finally paid off. It seemed like a waste to not at least pursue a relationship with Lily.

But within those two years, James fell out of love with Lily and instead fell in love with you. Instead of being shut down for telling a joke, you laughed and encouraged him to continue. Never had you tried to change him, to be quieter or less annoying. You simply let him be who he was and enjoyed his company. It was quite a drastic change from Lily to you and he couldn't pinpoint when he decided to choose you. Maybe when he started to look for you in the great hall rather than Lily or decided to ask you for help. But he did know he fully realized he had fallen for you when he didn't smell lilies, old books and Lily's perfume in the Amortentia Slughorn brewed but instead smelled coffee grounds, the rain and your perfume. You always smelled of coffee, rain and the sweet sugary smell of your perfume he had bought you for Christmas.

Days, weeks, months and then years went by and James Potter still couldn't bring himself to tell her how he felt. If anything, it felt as if his heart was pressed against a microphone, booming with every rapid beat.

But if he was honest, the familiar pain of unrequited love settled in his heart. The once unrequited love he received from Lily was nowhere close to the pain he felt for her.

What made it harder was that he would never be able to express it to her as James snapped out of his daze to feel Sirius leaving his side and made a beeline to her. He saw how his best friend's eyes light up when she smiled back at him. How the light twinkled back in her eyes when she smiled back.

"I never thought in a million years it would be her," a raspy voice says beside him. Remus had replaced Sirius' spot and he grabbed a red solo cup on the table beside them, leaning against the same wall as James.

With a forced chuckle, James let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, we always thought it would be you pal."

A loud groan comes from Remus' mouth, "Would you stop with that, Prongs! She's practically my sister you prat!"

Never once did his eyes leave her until Sirius leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Gazing downwards, James took a sip of the burning whisky and closed his eyes. He felt his heart crack all over again and felt the painful sensation to cry build up. A beat passes again, Remus was starting to become worried about the change in his friend's behaviour. Deciding to break the silence, he turned back to the couple and spoke again."You know, I think she's the one."

James swore he felt his heart crack as he opened his eyes and stared back at his friend, frowning. Even if he wanted, and he very much wanted to, he could never choose his happiness over Sirius.

Never over Sirius' happiness. Not after what he's been through, not after when his family abused him, broke him down and disowned him. Not after all the times Sirius had been there for James. Not when he considered him family.

But it was also undeniable their spark, even James couldn't deny it. Dropping his head, he rotated his red cup to stare at the amber liquid. Instead of the bright contrast of the red reminding him of Lily, the deep comforting golden brown reminded him of you. Another nudge from Remus had James quickly looking up.

"James! Remus!" you greeted, quickly pulling Remus then James into a hug. He took a moment before handing his drink to Remus to fully wrap his arms around her waist, basking in her warmth and the smell of her hair.

Having been friends and having feelings for James for so long never served you any good. You would always be second to Lily and everyone knew that except you and James."Look at you! At a party? Whew, finally came out of a cave, eh?" he said when you pulled away, eyes glazed over and jaw clenched.

"Hardy har, Prongs. I had too and I wouldn't have missed it," you smiled, slightly turning back to look at Remus now talking to Sirius across the room. "You think I would miss yours and Sirius's last quidditch game... ever! If so, my, my, my Fleamont! You really are that daft then, aren't you?"A smile appeared on both of their faces before a gut-wrenching had both of them laughing before James glanced down at her hands. It was a small wooden box painting in both red and gold with a bow on top. Pointing to it he asked, "Who's that for? Sirius?"

"No actually, I gave him a gift earlier. This - this is for you," she said in a shaky, quiet voice. Reaching for his hand, you pulled it towards your body, turning it over to see the palm of his hand. As you placed the box into his hand, James' body felt electric, going into overdrive from your touches. "This better not be some prank you and Sirius are pulling on me," he said, starting to get a little nervous.

"No, seriously. Open it."

As he unlatched the small hinge on the box, the inside was furnished with soft red velvet. In the middle sat a golden ring with the word 'Saudade' engraved inside the band.

"Saudade?" he asked, still looking down at the ring.

It was your time to glance down. Avoiding the question, she asked, "So do you like it?" Panic started to arise when he didn't respond. Perhaps he didn't like it?

Repeating, "James, do you like-." As she continued to stare at James, she saw teardrops falling onto the soft velvet. "James, oh my god I'm sorry I didn't think-"

"I love it." Finally looking to see her face, he gives a weak smile, snuffling. He takes his hand to wipe his face and pulls her back into a hug. "Thank you, I l-love y-." He pauses before starting again, " I love it so much."

"I got it made about a week ago. It was the last game you were going to play so I thought I should get you something special. To remember it."

Pulling back to look him in the face, she smiles again and reaches up to ruffle his hair. "I'm glad you like it, James." His heart soared at the mention of his name before finally breaking apart. Sirius strides over, arms wrapping around her waist before tucking her head under his chin.

"Wow, Prongs, buddy, you alright?" Weakly nodding, he smiles back at him.

"Damn, you broke him didn't you, love? Trying to steal my spot as best friend huh?"

The three giggle before Sirius once again whispers in her ear and James returns to his spot leaning against the wall watching heat rush to both of his best friends' faces. Unable to continue to look, he looks in the opposite direction where he spots Lily and Remus. Lily was chatting away excitedly to him, presumably about life after Hogwarts, but Remus was already staring back. A look of recognition finally rushed through him. He was too observant for his own good. As Remus stepped forward, James' attention turned back to the couple in front.

"Hey Prongs, we have to go. We'll see you tomorrow."

Bidding their goodbyes quickly, you and Sirius both leave, hands wrapped together as you both head up the towers leading to the dorm rooms.

In his daze, Lily touches his arm, peering at him through her eyelashes. She begins to talk, choosing to hold his arm and lean her head against his shoulder. James tries his hardest to focus on her words but the cracking of his heart is louder.

Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump. It won't slow down.

Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump. It's becoming dangerously loud.

He looks back at Remus, a smile of pity gracing his lips.

Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump. Tha-Thump. Thump

                                                                                That very night, after James and Lily had made love for the very first time. As Lily was fast asleep on his chest, James slowly detached himself from the red-head and crept out of her bed, snuck out into the shrieking shack and cried. He cried for hours until the sun raised. He yelled, he broke items in the worn-down house, until he was too tired to move. He felt disgusting and guilt riddled every bone in his body. He had never felt emotional pain similar to this. The pain was inexplicable, pretending to have never loved you and Lily instead. The anguish of having to see his best friend love you instead. The grief he felt when he found out Sirius was planning to propose, and the unbearable discomfort he felt when he was asked to be his best man. The agony he felt as he put on his most expensive suit with Lily by his side. The hurt he felt when he saw your beautiful face walk down the aisle, eyes never once leaving Sirius. The despondency he felt when he had to give a speech about how you and Sirius were made for each other.

And as James watched the love of his life and best friend have their first dance as husband and wife, he never felt as hopeless as he did in that very moment. With the wrong woman by his side, a golden ring strung onto a chain underneath his suit shined bright, close to his heart.

                                                                                Saudade

The nostalgic yearning to be near something or someone again that is distant or has been loved and then lost. It also means that an object or person of longing that might never be had again. Some refer to the word as "the love that remains."

[x-ladyathena-x]

Free

Dean Winchester x Reader

Multi-POV (mostly reader POV with some Dean POV mixed in for clarity and understanding of the situation)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fluffy Smut, Smutty Smut, idiots in love

Word count: 4k - Buckle in, it’s a long one! (that’s what she said?)

Summary: An evening at the bunker planning your next hunt takes a romantic & steamy turn as you and Dean confess your feelings for each other.

You’d just finished a hunt and made it back to the bunker. Tired and exhausted, you see Dean at his computer, probably researching the next job.

“Welcome back, Sunshine!” he yells across the massive room, eyes never leaving his computer screen.

You roll your eyes at the pet name, but laugh at the same time. “Smartass.” You mumble under your breath at him.

“Aww, you’re the sweetest, y/n” Dean smirks at you with his goofy fake cheesy grin.

After a little playful banter back and forth, you unload your gear and slump down into a chair at the table that Dean is sitting at with his laptop.

“whew! I’m beat.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean Drains the last bit of the beer he’d been sipping on and gets up for another. He holds up his empty bottle, “want one?”

“yeah, grab me one too.” You say, thinking about the ice-cold deliciousness awaiting you.

Dean walked back to where you were seated. You’d pulled out your laptop by this point and had started running a map spread.

He walked up, opened your beer for you and presented it to you like a waiter in a fancy restaurant would present a bottle of Champaign. “Your beverage, ma’am.” Dean says with a slight bow.

You laugh and take the beer. While you throw your head back, savoring that first sip, you don’t notice Dean watching you with a little smile on his face from having made you laugh.

You set your beer down. “Ok, come look at this.” You say. You’ve got the map pulled up on your screen.

Dean comes up behind you. He places one arm on the back of your chair, the other balancing his weight on the table. You’re acutely aware of how close he is to you. Your body stills. The world around you slows, moving in slow motion. You can feel him hovering right over your shoulder and it feels like an electric charge coursing through your skin.

You swallow. “Right here.” You say, pointing to the screen. “we’ve got intel on vamp nests; here, here, there, and way over here. I think we should begin with this one.” You say pointing to the blue dot. “But I’m not sure when we should hit the others.”

Dean leans forward. He moves his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder. His fingers graze the skin of your exposed neck. He points to the screen with the other hand. “Well green would definitely make sense to hit after blue. But, as for red and yellow? Shouldn’t make much of a difference which of those we hit after that.” His hand was still on your shoulder and he gave it a quick squeeze. “See? Easy as pie!”

He stopped, hesitating, and looked down at where his hand was. His eyes suddenly became hungry.

Dean slowly began trailing his fingers along the exposed skin on your neck. You leaned into his touch, his hands – his hands! You could feel the strength and power in them at their touch. Oh, that rough touch. It set every molecule in your body humming. When you let out a small groan of pleasure, you could have sworn you felt deans body waver for a moment.

Gently, he moves a wisp of hair that had fallen down the nape of your neck. Taking his time, he allowed his fingers to brush through your hair, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shudder and bring in a short gasp of breath at the light, deliberate touch. Gah… this man could bring you to your knees with one touch. Just melt you into a puddle.

Umm, wake up, y/n! you think to yourself. You’re a badass hunter. Humans and creature alike literally fear your name! And here you are melting at the touch of (of all people) Dean effin Winchester… Ugh, get it together, y/n!

You’d never told anyone but you actually really liked Dean. A lot. He’d been on your mind more than usual lately. Maybe it was all the time you two had been spending together? He was fun and funny. And Charming… Oh yea, charming. So charming he just loved charming his way into the pants of every girl he met. You felt your teeth clench at the thought.

Am I jealous? Is this jealousy? You think to yourself. Jealous… jealous of what? Nothing. Something? You didn’t know why you felt that way. Dean wasn’t yours, after all. You knew he only saw you as a friend. Someone to joke around with, hang out with on your days off. He’s made moves on other girls. If he were interested in you, he’d have tried to make a move already. But he hadn’t. Just a little light hearted flirting, but you knew that was his personality. So that’s that. But- but, this?

What was this? What was happening right now?

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, resting his forehead against your hair. A deep sigh and the soft flutter of eyelashes tells you that he closed his eyes as he breathes in your scent.

Was this it? Was he making his move? The feel of his face nuzzled in your neck lit a fire burning in your belly. Him. You wanted him. Needed him. And his body language suggested that he wanted you just as bad.

“Dean...” you say breathlessly.

“y/n, I- “

The sound of your name brings you back to your senses somehow.

Making his move. You think to yourself. On you? Who does he think you are?! Some tramp from the bar? How can this man both infuriate and arouse you all at the same time?! This was starting to feel like an emotional roller coaster that you wanted to get off of.

You clear your throat and decide to lay down the law. You needed to let him know that playing around wasn’t your thing. And, of all people, he should know that about you, ugh.

“I’m not one of your conquests. Another one-nighter. So, if that’s what you’re after, you can pump the breaks before you start any of your trusty old sweet talk like honey dripping from your lips.” Mmm… his lips… Snap back to earth, y/n!

He’s smooth, you give him that. And as bad as you’d love to throw him down right here and fuck his brains out, you gather your senses and realize that your self-respect and dignity are more important. But, oh… those lips. The high road sucks.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and continue, “I, unlike your long list of hit-em-and-quit-em’s, am a lot of hard work. I require dedication and respect.” You spat the last word out a little more icily than you meant to, but you were seething at the thought of his hands being on anyone else.

Did he just screw some rando less that twelve hours ago? You don’t know. Probably. You clench your fist at the thought.

Dean moves suddenly. Swiftly. Like the predator you know him to be out in the field while hunting. Taking you by surprise, he kneels beside you, grabbing both your hands, turning you sideways in the chair to face him. He looks up at you with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Y/n, I- I haven’t. N-not once. Not since I- I realized…”

-----

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore; he couldn’t bear to hear the heartbreak in y/n’s voice. And he did hear it. Even though she tried to cover it; lacing every word with venom. He could still hear it. And it broke him inside.

What makes him good enough to deserve someone like y/n? She was way better off without a messy relationship with him. A relationship that would inevitably end in heartbreak. Heartbreak for one of them. Because in this life, the life of a hunter, having your heart ripped to shreds by the loss of a loved one was part of the reality. He was so scared to allow himself something good.

Good? Why do I deserve good? He thought. Maybe death and loss are part of everyone’s reality. Maybe, just maybe he was making the pain worse by fighting this… Maybe she, like him, was also scared. Would she even feel the same if he told her? What would he say? That he’d been in love with her for, well, he wasn’t sure when it happened. They’d always playfully flirted with each other. Sometimes she stole his beer, took a few sips, and handed it back. He liked the idea of putting his lips where hers had been. Dean imagined about how she would taste. He- he needed to tell her. Tell her everything.

Why was he making himself so miserable? This had to end, he was being stupid. It was his own fault for not confessing sooner. Dean gathered his courage. In one fluid motion, taking y/n by surprise, he knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and turned her body to face him.

Dean looked up at y/n. There it was. A mixture of torment, sadness, and longing. All weakly camouflaged by an icy look in her eyes.

“Y/n, I-“ Dean froze. I, what? Come on, spit it out, man! You’ve got this. “I haven’t.” Haven’t what?! Words. What are words? “N- not once. Not since I- I realized…” shit. Dean froze again as y/n’s breath quickened. Her eyes wide, listening to him speak. Her nails unknowingly digging into his palms in nervous anticipation of what he was trying to say. Why couldn’t he just spit it out?!

-----

You feel your pulse racing. You’re hanging on to every word pouring from those perfect lips. Every. Word. As your gaze dances across painfully beautiful green eyes, your expression softens.

“Not since I realized I love you.” Dean finishes in a low, rough voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. Is this real? Are you breathing? Did Dean just say what you think you heard him say?

“Y/n, I love you. And I have for a long time now.”

You release a big breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Gently you lift his rough hands up to your mouth, brushing your lips across his calloused knuckles.

Unable to speak, you keep your hands on his as he reaches up to your cheek to wipe away a single tear. Am I crying?! You think to yourself. Apparently. Yes. The rush of emotion and relief that you’re feeling, knowing that he feels the same way that you feel keeps you tongue tied.

Your reaction to his words was the catalyst Dean needed to keep going. He continued, “I love you. I haven’t been with anyone for a while now. Not since I realized that you were right in front of me the whole time. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Dean was on both knees by this point.

As if Dean were searching for the next words he wanted to say, his head dropped down against his hands (which were still holding yours in your lap) and he drew a shuddering breath.

You could feel his soft hair against your leg. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?! As he composes himself, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His head jolts up at your touch. You smile at him, “I love you too, Dean. I just never knew you felt the same. Why are you only telling me now? Why hide it for so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.” He whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Hurt me? Uh, didn’t ya think this whole ‘apparent unrequited love’ thing was killing me too?” you say sarcastically with a smirk. But in truth, that wasn’t fair to Dean. Because he didn’t know how you felt either. You’d never told him. Sure, you always flirted with each other and you found him insanely attractive and hot. Especially when he got protective over you during a hunt, or some creep at the bar. How many nights did the two of you stay up laughing at each other’s stupid jokes and throwing back a few beers? You’d always enjoyed each other’s company.

You repeat yourself, but softer this time, with longing in your voice. “Why now, Dean? Please. Tell me.”

“Because I was tired of denying myself the one good thing that ever came into my life.” He said heatedly. “Because I can’t think when I’m around you. You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, y/n. I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat, hell, I can’t even put a beer to my lips without wishing it was you that I had at my lips. I want. No. I need you in my life. By my side. I need to - taste you. Breathe you. Y/n, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. I see it in your eyes, I see the way you look at me. And I’m scared shitless of how deep these feelings go. This-“ Dean gestured between the two of you, “Is something that I never even knew it was possible to feel.

Without skipping a beat, Dean put his hand behind your head and pulled you into his lips. It was a tender kiss. Gentle, soft. You could feel the fire growing inside you. He felt so good. Your hands found the stubble on either cheek as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and found yours.

The kiss became more forceful, and full of need. You didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t stop. If it did stop, that may be the end of the world as you know it.

Dean stood, pulling you up with him as he wrapped both arms tight around your waist. He began running his hands over every surface of your body he could reach. He pulled you flush with his body, never breaking apart your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him. You ran your hands down his powerfully muscular back. This. This man. Him. Dean. Dean is what you want.

Dean broke the kiss apart. “I love you, y/n. I love you so damn much it hurts.” He said, his voice breaking.

“I love you too, Dean.” You say, smiling up at his face, tangling your fingers in his hair.

With a small grunt, Dean lifts you up by your ass and you instinctually wrap your legs around his hips. You feel a growing bulge in his jeans. You pull his face back in to yours. You can’t think straight, you want him so bad, you can taste it. Your core is aching with need. The need for him growing more intense. Only he can quench this fire burning you up.

Dean carries you clumsily down the hall to your room. Your arms still entwined around each other, holding each other together, holding the universe together.

Once inside Dean puts you down and you both stand there, staring at each other, breathing heavily. You both suddenly fly towards each other. Grabbing and pulling clothes, pulling each other’s lips down hard on your own. You unbutton Deans blue jeans and he unclasps your bra. Your t shirt and shorts long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The feeding frenzy of ripping each other’s clothes off slows to a savory pace as you tug and pull off Deans pants, leaving nothing to hold down the massive tent in Dean’s boxers.

He pulls the straps of your bra from your shoulders, slowly. When the cold air hits your nipples, they perk instantly Dean lets out a sharp hiss. “Oh, y/n.” He teases the soft flesh. First with his thumb, then with his mouth. As you feel his tongue against your skin, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes dart up to your face. He lifts his head and softly kisses you on the mouth. “I would love nothing more than to throw you onto this bed and fuck you senseless right now.” Dean said with a growl, but then his expression softened. “But if this is too much, we can stop. You’re in charge… as per usual.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you playfully smack him on the arm, grinning.

“Hey now!” you say laughing, “I’m not always in charge when we do hunts.”

Dean rolls his eyes and says sarcastically, “Yea, ok. Sure…”

You lean in and plant a kiss on his neck, “Well, I guess – since – I’m the one – in charge,” you say playfully between kisses. Trailing them down his chest and belly, stopping at his boxers. His erection obvious. “Then, I’ll accept nothing less than-“, you pull his boxers down revealing his full length. You flash your eyes up to his. He’s hungrily watching you, “-being fucked senseless.” You say as you take him into your mouth.

-----

She was so fucking beautiful. Perfect. The most perfect thing he’d ever seen. As y/n started bringing her kisses down his torso, Dean could feel his erection stiffen even harder. When she stopped to pull down his boxers, he could feel his shaft weeping with anticipation.

He was so worried that he had crossed a line earlier. It totally took him by surprise that y/n wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

“Well, I guess, since I’m the one in charge, I’ll accept nothing less than being fucked senseless.” Y/n said as she looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Damn! She was so hot. Dean had never been this riled up by anyone before. Oh, if that’s what you want, Baby, then that’s what I’m gonna-

Dean wasn’t able to finish his thought stream. Y/n had taken his whole length into her mouth. “Oh FUCK!” Dean screamed out, grabbing y/n by the hair. He slowly began to guide her head at the pace he wanted. Her tongue, her mouth, her! She was about to make him come already. Dean pulled himself out of her mouth. “Bed. Now.” He commanded with a sly smile.

Y/n laughed, “whatever you say, Baby.” As she climbed onto the bed, she did a dramatically slow striptease style crawl that made Dean’s erection throb.

Dean crawled up her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. Y/n made a little pleasurable whine as dean kissed her thighs while he pulled down her lacy black thong. Her center was absolutely dripping wet. Dean wanted to live between those perfect thighs. Spend years there, never come back to reality. Was time even moving at all? What day is it? What year is it? He didn’t care. None of those things mattered. None of it mattered because he had his y/n. His. Mine.

The only thing that existed was the two of them.

Dean dove his face between y/n’s thighs to her soft center. She tasted like Spring sunshine. Dean took his time, savoring every shudder that ran through her perfect body. Every gasp, scream, and moan that came out of her perfect mouth. She was getting close to coming.

-----

Your whole body is on the brink. Every move dean makes brings you closer to the edge. You need this release and you need Dean to give it to you. You feel yourself climbing, building, then suddenly – the earth shatters around you. You scream “Dean! Oh, DEAN!”

Dean keeps going while you ride out the high, he slowly brings you back down. You sigh, “Dean that- that was- I-“ you have no words. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say because he smiles.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart and core flutter at his words.

He climbs between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You place your hands on his hips and start to guide him in. With one smooth powerful thrust, he slides his whole length inside you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. You both gasp. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

His pumps start slow at first, then become more deliberate, more powerful. You love the protectively dominate power he radiates as he’s on top of you. Dean is a MAN. And he feels good. He feels so damn good. You start to feel yourself building again to what you knew would be another earth-shattering orgasm.

Dean found his rhythm and savored every movement, every stroke. He could stay here for ages.

As you feel yourself building, your need for him grows stronger. Dean... He was yours. And you were greedy for more of him. As his rhythm quickened, you dug your nails into his ass pulling his thrusting hips toward you with more force at each thrust. He catches the hint.

Without ever breaking the two of you apart, he flips you over onto all fours and doesn’t hold back. His urgency makes you cry out in pleasure. “Baby, yes! That’s it!”

“You want more? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

“YES!” you scream, reaching around and slapping his thigh. That does it. He unleashes himself. You hear him roar with pleasure, holding onto you so tightly, pulling you against him so fast and hard. The sound of flesh slapping echoed around the room mixed with both your cries of pleasure.

“Baby, I’m about to come!” you pant.

“Come on. Come for me Baby.” Dean says breathlessly. “I want to know that I’m the one to make you come.”

-----

Dean was talking out of his mind in the throes of ecstasy. The thought of y/n coming… of him coming inside her, was throwing him over the edge. Just as he felt himself going over, he felt y/n tighten around him.

-----

Just as you feel Dean twitching inside you, you feel yourself tighten around him. The sheer power of your shared climax hit you both like a freight train.

When you felt him pull out, you felt empty with his warmth gone. Dean lays back on the pillows and pulls you into his arms. You settle yourself in the warmth and comfort of his body. Dean absent mindedly plays with your hair as you lay your head on his chest and you both breathe heavily while you float back down to reality.

“Dean?” you say softly.

“Mmm?”

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Glad I could be of service.”

He’s such a smartass, you think to yourself laughing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you either.” You say, picking up your conversation from earlier. “I know I’m partly to blame for this dance we’ve been doing around each other for - who knows how long.”

“No, you were right. I should have just nutted up and told you how I felt. It just crushes me to think that I was causing you pain because you thought I was seeing other people.”

You absent mindedly draw circles on his chest with your finger. “I don’t know, I suppose we’re both to blame. I mean, look at this mind-blowing sex we could have been having all this time.”

This coaxes a real laugh out of Dean, and you feel his chest moving up and down from the laughter. But then he stops and you see a seriousness wash over his face. The same pain you saw in his eyes earlier, but maybe – perhaps you are imaging it – less pain, more - hope?

“I meant everything I said earlier.” Dean says in a husky, deep voice. “I am scared shitless to lose you, or to know that I’d be the source of your pain if you ever lost me. I mean, hell we’re hunters, we know how this ends eventually.” Still holding you tight, Dean continues, “I guess, If I’ve got one life to live, even if it’s a short one, I want you by my side. Always. I want you. All of you. The sassy you. The smartass you. The bossy you. The…” he paused to run his thumb across your lips, “The incredibly sexy you that I can’t keep my hands off of.” Dean smiles “I didn’t know that happiness like this, or these – feelings - were even possible to feel. And that’s just it. You made me feel. You pulled me out of a darkness that I didn’t even know I was in. You made me – free.”