#again none of this is serious i am just whining but i spent AN HOUR tinkering with a paragraph i’m gonna have to SCRAP

[cream-and-tea]

grrrr mandatory word counts i hate you i hate you

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy, part 3 (office nerd!matty x reader smut/fluff)

oh nooooooooo, you and your hot sort-of boyf colleague are left alone in the office together, whatever are you to do? teehee! part 1 here, part 2 here. enjoy <3

matty looks so good right now.

the golden hour light streams through the office windows, totally illuminating him in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. leaning round the side of your laptop, you watch as he pulls his jumper over his head, messing up his curls endearingly and revealing those tattooed arms you've spent a lot of time in over the past two weeks, since that fateful night in camden; thinking back to a few nights ago, when one of those arms was tight around your waist and another was braced between your legs, diligently following your instructions, heat starts to pool in your lower stomach, travelling lower and lower until you're forced to clamp your thighs together just to stay sane.

your sigh echoes around the empty-aside-from-both-of-you office, the noise slightly louder than you'd intended. matty looks up, a sweet smile on his gorgeous face. “i know, darling,” he says softly. “just a little bit longer, yeah?”

the phrasing would be infuriating if you weren't totally sure he meant it in earnest. you nod, smiling back at him. “okay. you look amazing right now, by the way.”

“oh, stop it,” matty's cheeks redden quite beautifully. “come and sit with me, beautiful girl - need motivation to finish this conclusion.”

no need to ask you twice.

you put your laptop away and wander over, preening at the way matty looks at you with blatant desire. the lust in his eyes gives you an idea, sending another burst of heat to your core; once you snuggle onto matty's lap and give him a kiss, you speak. “so, you need motivation?”

“desperately,” he sighs, burying his head into your neck and lightly kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. “i've only got a hundred or so words to go, but it's impossible. help me, angel, please?”

“alright, then,” you kiss his neck in return, smiling into the skin when he hums happily, and press little pecks up his cheek so you can whisper, sultry, in his ear. “as soon as you finish the article, i'll have sex with you.”

matty lets out a noise that can be best described as a squeak, turning to look at you, wide-eyed - if not for the obvious hardening in his trousers beneath you, you'd assume he was horrified. “are you serious? like, you mean,” he wildly gestures to the desk with his free hand. “we could do it here?”

“seems sturdy enough, yeah,” you quip, raking a hand through his hair. “you've never thought about bending me over the desk here? i have. a lot.”

“no, i, um, i've thought about that,” comes the sheepish reply. matty looks at you properly. “but don’t you want our first time to be, like, in a bed? somewhere comfier?”

bless him. you kiss him again. “honestly, matty, i'm less concerned about where than i am when. feel,” you take his free hand and slide it up your dress, across the seam of the lacy underwear you've all but soaked through; he swears quietly, looking down at you in wonder. “and that's only from thinking about you inside me.”

“christ,” matty groans into your neck. “well… wait, aren’t there cameras in here? won't we get caught?”

“none in range of the desks, just the - oh, fuck - just the corridors,” you reply as best you can while matty sucks a bruise into your skin, spurred on by the knowledge you can fuck without interruption. “but even if there were, i know how to localise the cameras and reset and edit the footage without anyone realising it's been changed.”

“i have literally never found you sexier.”

“you're an idiot,” you giggle, pulling matty in for a surprisingly sweet kiss - it soon gets dirty, though, as you move to properly grind down onto him and pull the neckline of your dress down. “how about now?”

in spite of the fact that he’s seen them a few times now, matty whines at the sight of your tits. like, actually whines. the noise goes straight to your panties, and you can feel matty get even harder as you grind deeper onto him to try and relieve your discomfort; he buries his face between your tits, moaning into the skin before trying to take one wholly into his mouth. he’s frantic, actually, hand coming up to clutch the other while his hips begin to jerk up into yours, syncopated and desperate.

oh, you’re going to have so much fun ruining him.

“matty, sweetheart,” you say, in a singsongy voice that morphs into a moan when his teeth scrape against the soft skin on the side of your tit. “fuck, matty, babe, don't get too excited just yet - you've got work to finish, yeah?”

“i'll do it later,” his reply is muffled by your chest.

you pull his hair sharply - not enough to be agonising, but enough to make him look up at you; he looks fucked, cheeks rosy and eyes wild, and you're obsessed with it. but still, you can't let him get away with not listening to you. “but that wasn't the deal, was it, angel?”

matty sighs. “no. m'sorry.”

“good boy,” you kiss his forehead, smiling into him as he whimpers in response to the praise, and readjust yourself so you're sitting on his lap rather than straddling it. when you snuggle into him, pulling your dress back up, he kisses the side of your head, and your heart flutters. “i'll still sit with you while you finish writing, though.”

“thanks, angel.”

your motivational idea seems to work - it only takes matty ten more minutes to finish the article, fingers flying across the keys and pretty lips mouthing the words as he types them. you love watching him work, always have; the intensity in his eyes is magnetic, and flitting your own between his face and lips and hands is only continuing to turn you on. you could have grinded on him again, worked yourself up to tease him, but no. you'll wait, and you'll get off together.

what a delicious thought.

“there. done,” matty hits ctrl-s and exhales, nuzzling into you. “was you proofing part of the deal, or…?”

“nah,” you kiss his head, turning it gently so you can kiss him properly. “i'll just look at it when we get home.”

he smiles dreamily, which is also how you feel about the thought of domesticity together. “i like the sound of that.”

“so do i,” you move to straddle him again, kissing him deeply and grinding down onto him even more so. “you know what else i like the sound of?”

“what’s that?”

you grin. “you fucking me.”

“shit,” matty kisses you hungrily, deeply, sloppily; a trail of spit connects your mouths even as he pulls away, manic. “how do you want me?”

“oh, in so many ways,” you aren’t lying. “but right now… i want to look at you, while you fuck me on this desk. how does that sound?”

he closes his eyes, gulping as he nods enthusiastically. fuck, he’s so pretty. “that- yeah, that sounds good. great! it sounds great. really.”

“yeah?” god, you’re such a bitch for teasing him.

he doesn’t notice, though. “yeah,” matty smiles shyly. “thank you, darling. i really like making you feel good.”

your heart flutters, and all you can do is pull him in by the collar of his shirt and crash your lips onto his. desire practically seeps out of you both, but it’s accompanied by something tender, affectionate - you’re not sure what, exactly, but you like it.

actually, you’re not really sure of anything at the moment, except how badly you need him. you tell matty as much, murmur it into his mouth like it’s gospel, and he practically faints. “alright, sweetheart, alright,” he shakily exhales into your mouth. “let me get you ready.”

before you can snarkily rip him for getting you ready when he’s all but on the edge of climax already, matty’s lifting you up, kissing you as he gently - goosebump-inducing gently - lays you on your back on the desk. the wood is cold against your skin, despite the heat, but it’s nice; what’s even nicer, though, is the way matty fumbles for his discarded jumper and lays it under your head. he looks at you carefully, big beautiful eyes travelling all over your face (surely blushing, looking up at him all gormless and lovesick) to determine how you’re feeling. “is this okay?”

you nod, slightly too overwhelmed to speak. shit. you’re supposed to be the one doing the flustering.

(secretly, you don’t mind the way he’s treating you. not one bit.)

“good,” matty beams. a split-second later, his cheeks are rosy again. “can i, um, can i… look at your boobs again, please?”

“if you unbutton your shirt, yeah - s’only fair, isn’t it?”

he obliges immediately, fingers shaky as he reveals his bare skin. your eyes follow the undoing of the buttons, core pulsing with every new tattoo or muscle group or section of happy trail revealed, and your own fingers work to slide the cap sleeves of your dress down your arms and push the neckline almost to your stomach. the sun-soaked room isn’t cold, but your nipples harden as soon as they're freed from fabric, out of nothing more than sheer arousal. 

matty moans when he looks at you, big hands immediately brushing over your chest so he can lean over and kiss you - as he does, you wrap your legs around him and do the best you can to grind onto the rock-hard bulge in his trousers. he whines into your mouth, sliding his hands back down your body to clutch at your hips and do some grinding of his own. one particular movement hits your clothed clit, and he groans into you in response to your whimper. “please, please can i fuck you now? need it, my girl, need you so fucking badly.”

“yes,” you whisper, just as desperately. lifting your hips slightly, you move matty's hands to rest on them on the fabric of your underwear. thankfully, he catches on quickly, and pulls them off you, laying them carefully on the chair; you would think the action was endearing if you could think about anything except the way the cool air hits your soaked cunt, reminds you how turned on you are. “come on, matty,” you spread yourself even further open for him, loving his expression of wanton desire. “need you inside me, sweet boy”.

“yeah,” without taking his eyes off you, matty undoes his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down slightly to free his dick. saliva pools in your mouth as you watch him pump it, memories of being both joyfully surprised at the sheer size of it and determined to take it all down your throat last week flooding back - they're completely overridden by the present, though, specifically matty holding himself with one hand and gliding the other down your slit. “jesus christ. can i, you know…?”

you smirk. “can you what? need you to use your words, be a good boy.”

his face goes scarlet. “can i…” he trails off again, breathing shakily.

“matty.”

“fuck, m'sorry, darling, m'sorry - just keep getting distracted by how gorgeous you are,” coming from anyone else, that line would make you scoff, but earnestness practically drips from matty's words. he smiles as you stroke his face, sighing. “right. can i- can i get inside you?”

for the briefest of seconds, you allow your controlled façade to drop, pleading just so he knows how much you want him. “please, angel. need you to fill me up.”

after leaning down for a soft kiss, matty does just that, slowly pushing into you to a soundtrack of quiet gasps from both your lips and his. you're thankful of the slow pace he moves at, probably to keep himself calm - he's so big that you're practically breathless from the time he's half-in, your body rearranging itself just to take him in the most deliciously painful way.

once he's bottomed out, matty stops moving completely, in favour of putting his hands over his face and breathing heavily. you blink, concerned, doing your best to sit up on your elbows without moving too much. “matty, sweetheart,” you coo. “are you alright?”

“mhmm,” comes the muffled response. he drags his hands down his face, smiling shyly at you when you become visible to each other. “just give me a second - s'been a minute since i did this.”

“of course. i like how this feels, anyway,” you reach up to stroke his face, beaming when he nuzzles into you. “and, if i'm honest, i'm kinda upset that you have actually done it before,” you giggle, only half-joking. “wish it was only me, and you were all mine.”

matty smiles. “well, that's kinda true - you're the only person i've ever done it with that's actually mattered.”

your heart flutters again. “sweet boy. how are you feeling?”

“good. i, um, i think i'm ready.”

music to your ears. “okay. fuck me, then, matty.”

“alright. thank you.”

the tenderness of the whispered reply makes you smile, cheeks almost sore from how wide you beam; as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, they widen in another direction, jaw dropping at the feeling. “shit, matty, just like that.”

“yeah?” matty repeats the motion, over and over and over, eyes rolling back in his head as you clench around them. his jaw is slack, curls beginning to stick to his forehead as he fucks you slowly, cheeks pink. you don't know if you've ever seen anything more beautiful - before you can tell him, though, he speaks. “is this good enough for you? what else do you need me to do?”

what a sweetheart he is.

“you're perfect, angel,” you stroke his smiling face, heart leaping when he turns to kiss your palm. “if you want to, you can speed up, yeah? do what makes you feel good. been so sweet of you to learn what i like, i wanna return the favour now.”

he nods, eyes closing as he takes your advice with a throaty groan. whether it's the noise or the faster pace he's fucking you at, you don't quite know, but you whine in response, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging. matty moans again, blinking dazedly at you. “i like that.”

“when it hurts a little bit?”

“mhmm.”

“alright,” you move your other hand under his shirt to clutch at his back, digging your nails lightly into the soft skin and dragging them downwards. “that?”

“fuck,” he whimpers, hips speeding up yet again. you gasp at the feeling, another gush of pleasure starting between your legs; in response, you clench, and matty swears again. “god, you're so wet.”

“all for you, matty,” you lean up to kiss him, a sloppy meeting of lips and tongues interspersed with moans; pulling back to breathe, you whisper into him. “tell me what else you like.”

he kisses you again, still pounding into you - somewhere deep in the recesses of your pleasure-addled brain, you thank all that's holy for the editors’ interior design decision to buy extremely sturdy desks and not have them against any walls. “i like you.”

“yeah?” you smile, moaning at a particularly good thrust. “you like - fuck - you like the way it feels inside me, inside this pretty pussy?”

“yeah.”

“i like it, too, feeling you inside me,” you kiss his neck, licking up over his jaw and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear. “does it feel good, fucking my tight little cunt? never had anyone as big as you, sweetheart, fucking love it. you've got me fucking dripping.”

“feels so good, so fucking good,” comes the breathy reply. “perfect girl, perfect pussy. wanna - shit, oh my god - stay inside you forever.”

matty's hips are faltering ever so slightly, the rhythm dropping a sign that he's reaching the finish line. you decide to help him get there, gently sucking a mark into his neck and murmuring into the sweaty skin. “you can cum there, if you like.”

the whine he lets out is almost enough to make you cum. “is that alright with you?”

“of course,” you press a little kiss to his cheek. “want you to fill me up, angel. been such a good boy for me, you deserve it.”

“thank you,” matty leans round to kiss you properly. “please can i get you off, too?” wanna touch you, make you feel good.”

“you remember what i showed you?”

he nods, shifting weight onto one arm and waving his thumb at you. giggling, you take it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the pad before releasing it with a pop and speaking. “fast, but not too firm, alright?”

“yeah,” watching you intently, matty leans back to look down intently between your legs, bringing his thumb to the juncture between them. it takes him a couple of swipes to find what he's looking for, but your body jerks so obviously when he touches your clit that it's obvious he's made his discovery. still fucking you a bit haphazardly - in a good way, mind you - he rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves, just the way you like it. “that good for you, darling?”

the pleasure from the double stimulation is so overwhelming you can barely speak, clouding your brain and tightening both your vocal chords and your cunt; it's matty's whine at the latter that triggers a response from you, a matching wanton moan that by some miracle forms itself into a phrase. “yes, god, don't stop.”

“m‘kay,” matty's eyelids are drooping above you, but he smiles enthusiastically. “feel like i'm dreaming.”

“oh, my sweet boy,” you pull him down for a kiss, grinning against him at the whimper that escapes him when you bite his lower lip. “see? this is real.”

he giggles, gently kissing you in a way that's at total odds with how intensely he's fucking you. “i'm getting close, sweetheart. are you…?”

“yeah,” you aren't lying, either - pleasure is really starting to fizz up in your stomach, making your legs shake as they're wrapped around matty. “keep doing what you're doing, angel, keep being my good boy.”

the praise spurs matty on, keeps him fucking into you determinedly even as he crumbles completely above you. “oh, fuck,” he moans, skin slapping against yours as he chases release for both of you. his thumb stays circling your clit, bubbles of ecstasy rushing through your body every time he does - you're definitely getting close, pleasure building up to breaking point in your stomach more and more by the millisecond, and your heavy eyes and shaking body make that obvious to the perfect man above you. he kisses your nose. “you're close, too, aren't you?”

“mhmm,” you clutch him even tighter, desperate to keep him like this, keep him making you both feel good. “you gonna make me cum?”

“fuck, yes.”

and he does. how he staves off his own orgasm, you have no idea, but matty's dead-set on getting you off before he can; he fucks you through shaking legs, working your clit as well as if he'd been doing it for years and not days, forehead pressed to yours in such an intimate way that you could cry if you thought about it for too long. he looks fucked above you, but so fucking beautiful - when the pleasure inside you cracks and surges out into the rest of your body, sending wails of his name out of your lips, you're not quite sure if it's just because of the sex, or if there's another emotion or two behind it adding to how good you feel.

but you don't have time to dwell on that, though, before matty's whimpering about his own climax against your lips. “m'gonna cum, oh my god, shit, sweetheart, m'gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”

“good boy, my perfect boy,” you're still spacey after cumming yourself, but the hand still in matty's hair is tethering you somewhat. “cum for me, matty. fill me up.”

with perhaps the single sexiest noise you've ever heard, matty does just that, burying his head in the crook of your neck while he finishes, hot and deep, inside you. “oh, thank you,” he whispers into your skin, panting bodies still clinging together as you come down from your high. “jesus christ.”

“did you like that?”

matty laughs, leaning back to look at you. “that's an understatement, darling. it was perfect,” he strokes your sticky cheek, looking tenderly at you. “you're perfect.”

“back at you, sweet boy,” you kiss his nose, then his lips - a sweet kiss, nothing like the sloppy mid-sex makeouts you just had. “thank you for being so keen to make me feel good.”

matty shrugs, bashful. “i like that bit most of all.”

“oh, he’s cute!”

“i try,” he giggles. with a final kiss to your nose, he leans back. “am i alright to, like, pull out now?”

“of course,” you sit up on your elbows as he does, wincing at the sensation (and lowkey mourning the loss of him inside you). matty crouches to look at his cum dripping out of you, face so awestruck you can't help but giggle. “good view?”

he blushes, smiling shyly up at you. “the best,” carefully, he brings two fingers to your core, gathering up most of the white liquid and looking at it in wonder; his gaze then shifts to you, cheeky. “i mean, you're kinda clean now.”

you roll your eyes, but smile. “c'mere,” when he obliges, you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking the cum from them and swallowing with a satisfied hum. “look at that - both clean!”

“oh, that was underhanded,” matty kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth before he pulls back. “but you're so beautiful that i'll let you get away with it.”

you swing your legs happily, pulling your dress back up over your chest. “thanks, angel.”

“m'serious, by the way,” matty reaches for the tissue box on the opposite desk and then your discarded underwear, crouching again to wipe you clean and slide the fabric up your legs. “most beautiful girl in the world.”

“your girl.”

he hums happily, cleaning himself off and tucking himself back into his boxers, leaning down to kiss you while he zips up his trousers. “mine, all mine. now, let me just,” he lifts you up and sets you on another desk, wiping the one you just vacated as best he can with a dry tissue. you bite your lip to keep from laughing at how endearing he is, and smile sweetly at him when he turns back around; that soon turns into a shriek when he scoops you up bridal-style. “right. let's go home.”

***

“are you sure i didn't leak onto the seat there?” you walk backwards up the hall towards your flat, looking at matty. “i was so panicked the whole drive.”

he rolls his eyes. “sweetheart, for the millionth time, there's no cum on the passenger seat. not that i'd have minded if you ruined my car like that, though. s'kinda hot.”

“you kinky little bitch,” you snort, unlocking the door and stepping inside; the scrambling of tiny paws across wooden floors becomes audible as soon as you do. “and speaking of little bitches…”

“don't call her that!”

“oh, stop it, i'm being literal - hi, maggie!” you crouch as your border collie puppy comes into view, bounding towards you excitedly - annoyingly, she passes you without so much as a lick hello, and goes straight to matty. “oh, for god's sake.”

he laughs, letting her lick all over his face before scooping her up like a baby and cooing at her. “maggie-moo! did you miss me? yeah, course you did. more than you missed your mum?”

“matthew.”

“sorry, darling,” he wanders over to kiss your head, kicking the door shut behind him. “i still can't believe you waited until we started dating to tell me you had the cutest puppy of all time. imperative information, that.”

“still pulled you without her, didn't i?” you quip, wandering down the hall to dump your and matty's bags on your bed, the two Ms in tow. “and you only think she's the cutest because she's sweet to you. she's a total terror, otherwise,” you pet maggie's little head. “i think she might've inherited that from me.”

matty giggles. “well, i'll take you both being sweet to me. yes, mags, i will!” he scratches her under the chin, and her little eyes close as she stretches; within seconds, she’s fast asleep, and he awws. “i'll put her down in the living room.”

“thank you, angel,” you kiss maggie's head, then matty's, and wander into your bedroom to get changed.

matty follows behind a minute later. “i can take her out later before we go to bed… oh my god, darling, i'm so sorry for bursting in on you like that,” he goes bright red when he sees you're only in your panties. “i can wait a second, let me just-”

you cut him off with a giggle, walking to him and kissing his nose. “you literally creampied me not even an hour ago, and you're flustered by walking in on me changing? god, you're so cute.”

“oh, shush,” matty hides his face in your hair, wrapping his arms around you. “i've forgotten what i was going to say now.”

“sorry, angel,” you stroke his hair. “while you think, do you want to have a shower with me? and then we can order some food?”

“really?” his voice is full of wonder. “yeah, i’d like that. thank you.”

your heart glows. you take his hand and lead him next door to the bathroom, turning the shower on and adjusting the temperature as you speak. “no need to thank me, matty. just doing my girlfriend duties, you know.”

there’s silence for a second. then you realise what you said, and panic sets in - your blood runs ice-cold, and you turn to an undressing matty with a horrified gasp. “i am so sorry, matty, i don’t know why i-”

“darling, it’s alright,” matty steps out of his trousers and kisses your head. “i’d quite like to refer to you with that title too, if i'm honest. and, you know,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “if you want to call me your boyfriend… i'd be very honoured.”

he's so adorable that you have to genuinely hold back a scream. so you merely beam at him, and kiss his hand. “follow me. we can start your designated boyfriend role of washing my back for me right now.”

in complete contrast to the desperate, fast-paced sex of earlier, your first shower with your boyfriend (!!) is languid, romantic, saccharine-sweet. well, there are several deep kisses, and both yours and matty's hands do linger on parts of each other's bodies that may be considered impolite by some, but there's no real lust behind it - none more so than usual, that is - just a curiosity, a fascination, and a want to hold each other as tight as possible. that easy comfort around each other lingers the whole night, through ordering and eating pizza, curled up on the sofa watching the young ones while maggie does her utmost to get the discarded crusts for herself; through sharing a cigarette in the communal garden while the puppy does her business and runs around to tire herself out; through brushing your hair at the vanity in your bedroom before you go to sleep, matty sprawled on the bed and watching you with adoring interest while maggie sleeps on her bed under the window.

while you're putting your hair into its bedtime braids, he wanders over to the record player in your room, looking at the empty sleeve on the table next to it before lifting the lid and peering at the disc. “melodrama? i haven't heard this in ages.”

you turn in your chair, smiling. “but you know it?”

“of course.”

“good,” you walk to matty, kissing the back of his neck. “it's maybe possibly my favourite album of all time.”

“really?” he turns in your hold, resting his elbows on your shoulders. “tell me about it.”

“okay. better get comfy,” you tug him to your bed, climbing in and flicking the bedside lamp off; your boyfriend climbs in too, face illuminated by the faint moonlight peeking through the thin curtains. “you know that it's set over the course of one night, right? at a house party?”

“is it?” even in the low light, you can see matty's brow furrow. “but it's so… far-reaching, i would say, emotionally.”

“yeah, it is, the house party is just a narrative framework to focalise it, i s'pose,” you yawn. “and i don't know if she’s ever confirmed it, but i think all the fadeouts on the album have a purpose - they all seem like they're a means of marking the end of a step in the relationship cycle she's singing about. like, the one at the end of the louvre is the end of the ‘rush at the beginning’ she sings about, because then the album goes into liability and hard feelings/loveless, so the heartbreak section, and there's a fade out at the end of loveless, too. you get me?”

“i get you, darling,” the smile in his voice is audible.

“cool. all in all, there are five stages to the cycle, and it repeats between green light and sober; so, the first song on the album is chronologically last in breakup terms,” you rub your eyes. “which is kinda genius, because then the house party framework is really clear. like, you start the night by going out, but you also end your healing journey by doing the same thing, getting back out there and all that. it's so amazing. and the songs are all good,” a beat passes, then you giggle. “sorry for just rambling on about melodrama right before we go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“nah, i loved it. makes a nice change to be the one listening, for once,” matty laughs breathily, stroking stray hairs from your face. “i like listening to you talk like that - like it when you do anything, really.”

“back at you,” you lean in to kiss him softly, sliding your arms around him. “i'm really happy you're my boyfriend, by the way.”

“so am i, darling,” matty yawns, nuzzling his head into your chest. “shall we get some sleep?”

“sounds good. what are our plans for tomorrow?”

“oh, yeah, that's what i forgot i was gonna say earlier,” he tilts his head to look at you, eyes heavy with sleep. “we could maybe take maggie for a walk at the park near my house, if you like, and i could make us some dinner afterwards.”

“will you make me soup?”

matty laughs, kissing your bare skin. “of course i will. whatever you want.”

“alright,” you smile, going back in for yet another kiss. “it's a date. goodnight, angel.”

“night, sweetheart. see you in my dreams.”

[romanoffsbish]

… No It’s Not

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!StarkReader

TW: Planned Death

Y/N's POV

I slept for maybe four hours while holding Nat before I felt the urge to get up.

I can sleep when I'm dead.

It's 7AM, so I'm going to make Nat's favorite breakfast and bring it to her in bed.

—————

"Good morning my love!" I say while gently shaking her a bit

"No. Lay down!" She groans

"Baby, I've been up for a bit. I've got breakfast for us." I say trying to coax her awake

"Sh..."

"French. Toast." I whisper those two words into her ear and suddenly she's wide awake

"You should've led with that!"

"So sorry my gentle pet names aren't enough for you. I'll bribe you with different breakfast foods from now on, is that what you want?" I question with an eye roll

"Yes! Exactly. Glad you understand"

"Just hush up and eat!"

Nat's POV

Y/N just took our dishes to the kitchen so I am just patiently waiting for her to return.

"Five minutes? That's too long! Be faster. Now come give me cuddles please."

"Baby, five minutes is plenty fast enough to go to the kitchen and back" she retorts back

"Not to me when I'm in need of cuddles!" I whine back at her with a pouty lip trying to make her feel guilty

"I'm so sorry. I'll do better in the future" she sarcastically lets out while jumping in bed with me. She snuggles into me and I can tell she didn't sleep well.

"Baby, we don't leave until like 3PM, take a nap. You look so tired after last nights events." I tease but am also being completely serious

"No, I want to spend all the time with you" she tries to argue back

"Sleeping in my arms is spending it with me. I'll set an alarm for 10AM. That gives us two bonus snuggle hours. Please!" I all but beg

"Fine..."

—————

"Wake up sleepy head!" I say as it's now my time to wake her up. I didn't sleep a wink. I just spent two glorious hours watching her sleep. She's so beautiful when she's in a peaceful sleep.

"Five more minutes"

"Fine! But none more" I concede not actually minding at all.

"Get up!" I say while tickling her sides. Within one full swoop my arms are being help above my head and she's now peppering my face with kisses.

"Baby, stop, what are you doing?" I laugh out

"Payback!" She says sternly but then she gets up and pulls me up with her.

"Time to start our day love." She states while getting dressed.

Y/N's POV

Now that we've gotten some of our last snuggles in I need to get prepared for today. I start by finding my dad, mom and Morgan. I spend time with them until Pep & Morgan have to go.

Then I make my way to the kitchen to make my famous Mac & Cheese for everybody's lunch. I'm trying to spend a little time with everybody to soften the blow. I can tell Nebula knows what's up, but she kinda owes me, so she's staying silent. I'm a bit nervous, I know Clint's going to put up a fight, but I'm always like three steps ahead of him. So I'll definitely win ... or I guess lose? Either way I'm nervous, I don't want to die, but I've already rationalized that it has to be me.

"Baby... Catch me!" Nat yells while running full force at me. I stumble but catch her just fine

"Why'd you do that love?"

"You seemed distracted and I wanted to test if you'd still hear me and catch me in that state"

"How sweet. What if I didn't? Then what huh?"

"Well then we'd be on the ground then silly!" She says before pecking me cheeks as if it's the most obvious thing

"You always push the limits. You're absolutely bonkers, and I couldn't love you anymore"

She kisses me in response then pulls me down to the couch to hold me on her lap. I can tell she's trying to distract me, she knows I'm nervous, if only she actually knew.

"You feeling better?" She asks

"I'm always better with you!" I respond

"So cheesy..." she giggles

"Well, it's true!" I retort back

"I couldn't love you anymore either." She says pulling me in again.

Nat's POV

My baby is so nervous, and I am too, but hers is just off the charts. So now I'm just going to hold her until I can't anymore. I lay back and pull her down on top of me and just stroke my hand through her hair.

"You excited to see Yelena tomorrow?"

"Well duh! But she's gonna want you more!" I say in faux annoyance

"Oh hush. I might be cooler, but you're her big sister .. oh ... You're right!" She mocks me

"Cyka"

"You say that like I don't know what that means"

"Oh, I know you know!" I reply smugly

She rolls us over, straddling me, and holding my hands above my head

"Take it back!" She asserts

"Why would I? I kinda like where this is going.."

"Nuh uh, you horn dog!" She says as she lets my hands go

"Bad move!" I say before pulling her down and smashing our faces together, and not letting up.

We make out for what feels like forever, but is only like five minutes before we're rudely interrupted.

Y/N's POV

As we're in a very heated make out we hear someone clearing their throat.

"Showtime love birds" I hear my dad shout

I respond by throwing a pillow at his head

"Give us five!" I shout back

"Let's go baby. We'll have all the time i. The world when we get back." She smiles giving me a final peck as she goes to walk away

I grab her wrist and pull her back in.

"One more minute" I plead knowing the truth

"For good luck..." I bargain

She laughs and pulls me in for a final kiss. It's long and full of all our love for each other. I lull away and kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, then peck her lips again.

"I love you!" I say while staring deeply into her eyes.

Nat's POV

"I love you more" I reply

"Impossible!" She replies while pulling us in the direction of the others.

As we're putting on our suits I can't help but feel uneasy. I feel like she might know something I don't. We're going in blind, we don't know the circumstances of some of these stones. I know she loves me, but she's been making sure I know as if she knows something. She could just be being cautious and I'm probably just overthinking. It's time to bring our families and all those who were dusted back.

"Whatever it takes!" I hear Steve say as he finishes his big hero speech

As Y/N and I ascend onto the platform she whispers "Yelena would've hated that speech" causing me to chuckle in agreement.

I peck her cheek and say

"See you in a minute" with a smirk before we Pym particle through time and space.

Y/N's POV

We just got to Morag, before Clint & I take off in Rocket's ship I steal one last look at my wife. I give her a hug and tell her to be safe. I do the same with Rhodey and Nebula who gives me a knowing glance.

"Off we go!" I say to Clint

"Goodbye my love." I say to her knowing the finality behind my words

"See you in a minute!" She reiterates with a smile.

I just give her my best smile back and blow her a kiss as I enter the ship.

Clint's POV

I'm flying us to Vormir and Y/N looks like she's deep in thought.

"You good kid?" I say trying to pull her out of her head.

"Of course! Just nervous for the team is all. This is unchartered territories for many of us."

"Yeah, but we got this! We have a lot of people to avenge." I say trying to reassure her.

"Yeah. You excited to see Laura and the gremlins?" She asks playfully changing the subject

"Obviously!"

"Hug them for me please!" She says almost like she won't be able to do it herself

"You'll hug them yourself"

"I know, I just thought you'd want them all to yourself for awhile." She says unconvincingly

Before the conversation continues we're landing.

"Wow... It's beautiful." Y/N mutters

"Yeah, under different circumstances this would've been a nice trip." I reply bringing us back to reality

Y/N's POV

As we both reach the top of this horrid cliff we're both nearly winded.

"Wow... These last five years of little to no training is catching up to me." I laugh out to break the tension

Before he can reply we're interrupted.

"Welcome. Clint, son of Edith. Y/N daughter of Tony." Some weird red floaty guy echos out

We both raise our weapons in confusion towards the mystery figure.

"Who are you?" Clint asks

"Consider me a guide. To you, and all those who seek the Soul Stone"

"Oh, good! Tell us where it is and we'll be on our way." Clint replies

"What you seek lies in front of you... as does what you fear" he speaks out like I true fortune teller

"The stone is down there?" Clint questions

"For one of you. For the other... In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a soul."

SHIT! I have to jump off of a cliff. Well, I knew this wouldn't be easy ...

"Jesus... Maybe he's making this shit up!" Clint shouts

"Nope..." I shakily reply

"Why do you say that?"

"It's in the damn name Clint... Gamora never came back. Nebula said this is 'the dominion of death'.." I say giving myself away

"Wait! You knew? You knew and told nobody?" He shouts while approaching me

"I had to do it this way! If we don't get the stones millions of people stay dusted. I weighed the options out and this was the best option. It has to be me Clint!" I shout at him

"No! You're not doing this! You can't..."

"I can, and I will. I love you so much. You've been the best honorary brother I've ever had. Take care of her for me." I say through my tears

"You take care of her yourself!" He says while slamming me to the ground and running towards the cliff

"Nah, you got this!" I say as I hit him with a high voltage widow bite I might've stolen from my wife.

As he falls down I make a run for it, but before I can jump he shoots an explosive arrow towards me throwing me off. He gets up and makes the jump. I follow him and attach him to the cliff with a grappling hook ... I might've stolen my wife's back up mission belt...

"No!"

"I've always been one step ahead of you." I laugh out as he tries to reach me and pull me up.

"You asshole! It shouldn't be you!"

"It shouldn't be anyone..." I sadly reply

"Yeah ... but... please. Let me do this. They are gonna be devastated."

"It's okay!"

"No it's not!" He shouts down to me

"I love you buddy" I say as I kick off the cliff and out of his grasp. I fall with a vision of my life.

My wife smiling at me is the last thing I see before my mind goes blank.

Nat's POV

We did it! I look around and we're all coming back. Clint's back, but he's alone...

"Clint! Where's Y/N?" I say as my heart drops into my stomach already knowing the answer.

He stares up to me with nothing but sorrow in his eyes.

"It was supposed to be me... but she was a step ahead... she always was." He mutters to himself

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" I shout at an alarmingly loud level

"A soul, for a soul ... That's what the stupid red floaty guy said. She knew what was coming. She put the pieces together before we ever set off."

"Oh God ... This is my fault. She convinced me to change the people around. She was so convincing. I never questioned a thing." He stutters out

I'm not even listening at this point, my whole body is ready to shut down

"Who was it supposed to be?" Clint questions

"You and Natasha" Steve replies

That gets my attention... It was for me.

"Wait , what? This is my fault?" I question through tears

"No! It didn't matter who it was originally. She said she weighed out the options and she was the only 'rational' one to do it. She felt like everyone else was of more value. She wouldn't of let anyone of us die. I tried. I fought so hard!" Clint yells through his sobs

"Yeah... You've never beaten her before..." I chuckle through my sobs

"Bullshit!" Tony finally mutters

"I said I'd do this but I can't lose what I have... Now I've already lost..." he continues

"Then we make it worth it!" Steve says trying to make it better as he always does. "Bring everyone back, so her sacrifice isn't in vain."

"Yeah... Back to a world where most of their favorite person is gone." I whisper as I slip out and go to her old room.

"You fucking idiot! You promised me forever and now I'm all alone..." I cry out as I walk in. There's a hoodie laying on the bed with a note on top.

"We've reached forever my love... Go home!" is all it says. So fucking cryptic. I do exactly as I'm told though. I put the hoodie on, along with a pair of her sweats and grab my keys. As I leave I see Bruce and Rocket assembling the gauntlet and stone. I have no need to sit and watch!

I'm. Going. Home. !

—————————————————————

2,343 words ..

It Will Be (Part 3)

[sevmch]

hq boys as dads calling you while you're away bc your child wouldn't stop crying

characters: kuroo tetsuro, bokuto koutarou

warning(s): none, just fluff. kuroo is v father material aahh!!

a/n: this was sitting on my drafts for a while now. other characters coming soon 👀

kuroo tetsuro

you were overseas for two days to attend a convention that your job required which meant leaving kuroo and your child

kuroo was admittedly and without a doubt, a really good father so when he told you not to worry about them, you left without any worries at all

kuroo knew everything - how to prepare milk and baby food, changing diapers, how to get them to sleep, how to stop their tantrums, basically everything

still you bugged him all the way to the airport to call if something were to happen or if he needed help with anything such as locating the diaper and milk powder

afterall, he was rarely on baby duty since his job required more of his time compared to yours but he has never failed to provide you and his son the time and affection

the first day went by smoothly and without a problem, that is until the next day. your son just wouldn't stop crying so he had to call you to calm him down

no matter what kuroo did, your son just wouldn't stop crying even when he was cradling him gently in his arms and rubbing his back. their child has been crying for almost an hour now, only getting louder and stronger despite his best efforts to calmly shush him or lull him to sleep.

the morning went by pretty fine; kuroo fed, bathed, and played with their son - even changed the diapers twice. their son seemed to be in a pretty good mood throughout the morning but apparently, babies get mood swings too, and that's when the crying started.

kuroo tried basically everything from trying to get their son to drink milk, to giving the pacifier, and humming baby songs he could think of but all his attempts failed. their son wasn't bored nor hungry and was definitely not sleepy so it was starting to worry kuroo.

"hey bud, you're scaring me now," kuroo cooed, softly pressing the back of his hand against their son's forehead but the temperature was fine. kuroo knew all the baby stuff without sweat, even the signals of what they needed but this was entirely different. it was only when then their son pointed to the picture of the three of you framed on the wall that kuroo got his answer. pressing a soft kiss against his son's temple, he whispered softly, "i know bud, i miss mommy too."

kuroo grabbed his phone from the couch and called you, chuckling when you instantly answered on the first ring with a hint of worry in your voice. "tetsu, what's wrong? are you both okay? should i get on the next flight?"

"relax kitten, we're fine. we just miss you."

"awe, i miss both my boys too."

"mama's on the phone bud." kuroo switched to loud speaker, smiling widely at their son who looked at him with wide, doe eyes upon hearing your voice. the crying eventually died down as you kept speaking through the phone with your cute, tiny baby voice until your son fell asleep in his arms.

"is he asleep?" you asked.

"yep. hey, you should use that baby voice often. it's cute," he teased, grinning ear to ear.

"shut up."

the rest of the afternoon was spent at a mall near the airport, buying toys and new clothes and stopping by for ice cream before waiting for you at the terminal.

"look bud, there's mommy!" kuroo crouched to level with their son, pointing at your figure from a distance. their son's eyes lit up when spotting you, giggling and reaching out his other hand that kuroo wasn't holding.

"awe, it's my two favorite boys! i missed you both so much!" you said sweetly, dropping your bags to hug your son.

"i missed you so much, love." you hugged kuroo tightly when he stood up only for him to hug you tighter, peppering kisses on your cheeks.

"missed you more, kitten," he said softly, pressing a light kiss to your lips before carrying your son. you really had nothing to worry about.

bokuto kotarou

you were a little bit worried about leaving bokuto and your child even if it was just for a couple of hours. you had to visit your parents in kyoto and dropby for groceries on the way home

it's not that you didn't trust him, you were just not quite sure if the house would be exactly the same as when you left knowing how bokuto and your child loved to play A LOT

you considered calling akaashi to babysit the two lmao

bokuto matched your child's energy so while you're incharge of all the serious baby duties, bokuto was incharge of playing and goofing around with your child while you rested

really, your child got their hyperactiveness from bo

you were also the one who dealt with the tantrums while bo assisted, so when bo was left to deal with your son's tantrum alone, he panicked and was about to cry himself because your son was crying and it made him sad :(

you left the house around 6 am after preparing breakfast for your husband and son as well as the other things that bokuto will need for the day. althought bokuto spent a lot of time with your child, it didn't always include the serious baby duties so you knew for sure if you hadn't displayed the diapers and vitamins on the counter in advance, he'd be flipping the house upside down searching for them.

you also left a note on the fridge that consisted of all the instructions and reminders to serve as a guide. you trusted bokuto, of course, but you really just didn't want to come home to a mess.

bokuto's arms snaked around your waist and squeezed you lightly in his hug, nuzzling his face at the crook of your neck. "can't you just take us with you?"

"i'd love to kou, but our son just recovered from a fever so it's best if he stays home for now."

he nodded, visibly frowning. you cupped his cheek to get him to look at you. "kou, baby, i'll be back before you know it."

bokuto pouted, looking at you with puppy dog eyes and it took everything in you not to cancel your plans. "call me if there's a problem, okay?" you kissed him goodbye and left.

with the note you left him, bokuto had no troubles throughout the morning routine even during bathtime. he would send you pictures and videos from time to time so you wouldn't have to worry, also because he loved sharing things with you.

bokuto loved playing with your son, loved seeing the adorable smile and hearing the soft giggles during their playtime even if it meant having to crawl on the carpet with his son on his back like a horse.

bokuto was filming him walking around with a huge smile on his face, "come to dada, little guy." your son just recently learned how to walk on their own so their steps were still unstable and wobbly and this resulted to your son tripping on his own feet.

bokuto could shit his pants right now, quickly fumbling to his now crying son to comfort him.

"hey little guy, it's okay you're good, dada's here now." he's whispering comforting words while gently rubbing on their back but the cries only got worse, the tears streaming down the little guy's face nonstop and this made bokuto's heart sink, feeling his own tears pool in his eyes. "shh i'm sorry, i'm sorry... you're okay, i gotchu."

his hands hesitantly reached out hug your son, so fragile it scared bokuto. he was calling you now and thank god you answered right away.

"kou?"

"he won't stop crying and i don't know what to do, can you come home now please? i think i just made our son hate me."

you sighed, "he doesn't hate you, kou. can you tell me what happened?"

"i was taking a video of him while he walked around but then he tripped and i swear i was watching over him! he won't stop crying, oh god i'm gonna cry too."

"did he hit his head? is he seriously hurt anywhere?"

"no," bokuto mumbled and you sighed in relief.

"okay that's good. it'll be fine babe, kids fall sometimes, okay? especially at this stage where they're learning how to walk. just carry him around for a while and he'll eventually ca-"

"what if i drop him?! should i ask akaashi to come over??" he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, gently and carefully lifting his son from the ground, pressing him close to his chest despite being nervous.

"you won't drop him kou, i'll punch you if you do, and no, do not call keiji. you got this, babe, you're his dad and he needs you not his uncle."

it took a while to convince bokuto that he was going to be find and to get off the phone so he can start comforting your son. bokuto did as you said, cradling him in his arms while he walked around the house and pointing to the pictures on the wall until your son finally calmed down. the only problem was that his son would start crying again whenever he attempted to bring him down, tiny hands clinging around his neck and onto his shirt.

you arrived home around 8 pm, announcing your arrival only to be met with silence at the door.

"kou?"

your eyes softened as soon as you found him asleep on the couch with your son on top of his chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around the tiny human being. you quietly kneel beside the couch, stroking bokuto's hair which slowly woke him up.

"i'm home." you smiled.

bokuto brought a finger to his lips and you pressed your lips together, taking your son away from his arms so you can tuck him in for the night.

"i'm sooo tired," bokuto whined, resting his head on top of your chest and cuddling close to you as soon as you joined him in bed. "it's my turn to be baby."

you snorted, bokuto's soft snores filling the quiet room in just a few seconds. "goodnight baby."

reblogs & feedbacks r appreciated<3

2021 (c) sevmch | do not copy or repost.

[bloody-bee-tea]

How about "admit it, you had fun today" mingcheng?

Ikea

This does not only fill the ask prompt, but also the Ikea prompt on the MDZS Bingo.

Nie Mingjue pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels like at this point succumbing to a fit of rage would be the easiest, but he doesn’t want to yell. Not yet, anyway.

“Absolutely not,” he says, his voice tightly controlled, not for the first time and Jiang Cheng hums.

“Mingjue,” he says and Nie Mingjue has to take a deep breath so that he doesn’t lose it right then and there.

“Wanyin,” he gives back, because two can play that game.

“It fits perfectly,” Jiang Cheng tells him for at least the third time in the last five minutes and that’s it.

Nie Mingjue has had enough.

“Just fitting is not enough!” he says, and when a few heads turn their direction, he realizes that he’s speaking way too loudly, but he doesn’t care. He will not allow this. “There is no way in hell we are going to put this monstrosity into our bedroom! Do you even know how much dust there is in the bedroom? This has open shelves, which are bound to gather all the dust! Plus, it’s shiny white, that thing is not coming within ten miles of our bedroom!” he rages, feeling better now that he finally says what he really thinks.

He only realizes belatedly that Jiang Cheng is smiling at him.

“What?” Nie Mingjue snaps out and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“You said ‘our’ and ‘we’,” Jiang Cheng says with a dopey smile on his face and Nie Mingjue immediately deflates, his anger absolutely useless when faced with Jiang Cheng’s happiness.

“Of course I did,” Nie Mingjue gives back, still trying to maintain his frown, because his point stands. “It’s our apartment.”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng softly says and takes a tiny step closer to Nie Mingjue.

He doesn’t outright demand a hug or any physical contact, because he never does, despite Nie Mingjue telling him again and again that it’s okay, and so Nie Mingjue takes the hint and pulls Jiang Cheng into his side. Jiang Cheng perfectly fits under his arm and Nie Mingjue wants to do this forever.

“So, the closet?” Jiang Cheng asks after a minute and Nie Mingjue fights the urge to retreat his arm.

“It’s not even a closet,” he hotly says. “It doesn’t even have doors!”

He only realizes that Jiang Cheng is teasing him when he chuckles lowly and Nie Mingjue loves him so much, it threatens to swallow him whole sometimes.

“Can we please just move on and choose something sensible for the bedroom?” Nie Mingjue asks with a sigh and fights his knee-jerk reaction when Jiang Cheng looks at another totally impractical piece of furniture.

“You’re better doing this on purpose,” Nie Mingjue grumbles and pulls Jiang Cheng along, away from the way too stylish and way too impractical pieces.

“And what if I’m not?” Jiang Cheng asks, following obediently along and Nie Mingjue can see the glint in his eyes, so he knows that Jiang Cheng is just playing with him.

“Because your own apartment is furnished in very sturdy, very sensible, very useful pieces. None of this nonsense you would find here.”

“My mother’s interior designer chose my furniture.”

“Then maybe I should go shopping with him,” Nie Mingjue sighs out and then scrubs a hand down his face. “Tell me again why we can’t just take your closet with us?”

They are moving together into a new apartment at the end of the month, and Nie Mingjue would love to do nothing more than skip all of this. They should just take whatever they like from their own apartments and make it fit somehow. Hell, Nie Mingjue has spent so little time in his own apartment in the last half year that he doesn’t even remember how his bedroom looks. He’s perfectly happy with Jiang Cheng’s furniture.

“Because we want to start building our life together and taking old pieces with us would just ruin the whole fun of that,” Jiang Cheng gives back, with the patience of a saint, because Nie Mingjue has asked this question a lot in the past three hours.

“We can take some old pieces? I mean we already have a completely new kitchen, and most of the living-room, so why not bring something familiar with us for the bedroom?”

“Because you’re just trying to get out of this and I am not having it,” Jiang Cheng shoots back, clearly enjoying this much more than he should and Nie Mingjue knows that he has already lost.

“I want something warm, something sturdy and big. None of this,” he waves a hand at the furniture around him.

“So you just want to go somewhere else,” Jiang Cheng says, trying to hide the fact that he’s laughing at Nie Mingjue.

“I hate Ikea,” Nie Mingjue agrees with feeling and Jiang Cheng bursts out laughing.

He has to laugh so hard that he bends over, trying to steady himself on Nie Mingjue’s arm, and Nie Mingjue would be annoyed, if he wasn’t so happy to see Jiang Cheng like this.

It had taken him a while to be this free around Nie Mingjue when they first got together.

“I love you,” Nie Mingjue says, meaning it with every fibre of his being and Jiang Cheng rights himself to narrow his eyes at Nie Mingjue.

“You better not be proposing in a goddamn fucking Ikea of all places,” he hisses and not for the first time Nie Mingjue wonders if Jiang Cheng did find the ring he’s hiding at home.

“Please,” Nie Mingjue huffs out. “I would rather propose to you in a bathroom than this hellhole.”

“Please don’t do that either,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm.

“The bathroom or the proposing?” Nie Mingjue asks, because he can’t help himself.

They did not have a serious talk about marriage yet, after all, and while Nie Mingjue is reasonably sure that Jiang Cheng would say yes to him, there’s always a little bit of doubt.

“The bathroom, you idiot,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and moves in for a short kiss. “I’d love to get proposed to.”

“Hopefully not by some stranger,” Nie Mingjue grumbles, but he slides his hand in Jiang Cheng’s back pocket and keeps him close, brushing his lips over the faint blush on his cheeks.

“You’re a complete moron if you believe there ever could be anyone for me but you, my soul,” Jiang Cheng gives back and leans against Nie Mingjue.

Instead of answering Nie Mingjue only presses a lingering kiss to Jiang Cheng’s hair and then they stand like complete idiots around for a minute or maybe even three.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” Jiang Cheng asks after a while.

“Gods, yes,” Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees and Jiang Cheng chuckles.

“I mean another store, not home,” he teases him and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going home before we have decided on a stupid closet. We’re also not going to have sex until our bedroom is complete,” he adds as an afterthought, whispering the words into Jiang Cheng’s ears and he can feel him shudder.

“That’s so mean, we have a perfectly functioning bedroom in my apartment,” Jiang Cheng whines and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“No closet, no sex,” he decides and then walks away from Jiang Cheng, leaving him to scramble after him.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“And you like it that way.”

Jiang Cheng’s telling silence is answer enough for Nie Mingjue, who smiles as he makes his way out of Ikea as fast as he can.

They do end up at another store where they find a closet exactly as Nie Mingjue likes it, and even though Jiang Cheng puts up a token protest simply to be difficult, they end up buying it. Jiang Cheng is glowing with happiness when they leave the store.

“Can we please go home now?” Jiang Cheng asks after they paid and Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

“If you think we’re having sex tonight you’re mistaken, your Ikea trip sucked all the energy out of me,” he says and while it’s meant as a joke, it’s not completely wrong.

Today has been exhausting and Nie Mingjue is honestly not in the mood for anything more than cuddling.

Jiang Cheng flushes a bit, like he always does when Nie Mingjue speaks so bluntly about sex in public, but he doesn’t complain as he laces their fingers together.

“Honestly, I just want to cuddle on the couch,” Jiang Cheng says, sounding drained himself.

“I can get behind that,” Nie Mingjue agrees and drags Jiang Cheng off to their car.

The ride home is silent and they don’t exchange any words when they change out of their street clothes either and it’s only when they are cuddled up on the couch, Jiang Cheng in Nie Mingjue’s arms and his head on his chest that Jiang Cheng speaks again.

“Admit it, you had fun today,” he says and Nie Mingjue hums in consideration. “Don’t even pretend,” Jiang Cheng says with a light slap to Nie Mingjue’s stomach and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I hated every second I spent in Ikea,” Nie Mingjue starts, “but I had fun today because we were shopping for our apartment.”

“You’re such a sap,” Jiang Cheng sighs, but he also snuggles closer to Nie Mingjue, so he knows he’s happy about it.

“I would go to Ikea a thousand times if it would make you happy,” Nie Mingjue tells him and it’s not even a lie.

He can endure white and horribly impractical furniture as long as it makes Jiang Cheng laugh like today.

“Mh, it only makes fun if I go with you,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, clearly already sleepy and Nie Mingjue slides them deeper on the couch.

They are just a little bit too old to spend an entire night on the couch like this, but for now that’s okay.

He’ll make sure they get to bed eventually.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng whispers, apparently his last conscious thought and Nie Mingjue wonders if proposing at breakfast the next day would be too soon.

He figures there’s only one way to find out.

“I love you, too.”

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[blue-writes-things]

“Mudblood”

Sirius Black x Reader | Fluff / Angst

“For once you didn’t want to set the place on fire, you wanted to set yourself on fire”

| Masterlists | Words: 2225 Warnings: Shitty parents, Walburga and Orion’s A+ parenting, swearing, feminine pronouns   A/N: I still don’t know what pov this is, and also world ‘law’ inconsistencies. Edited Blue Moon Archives

Feedback is always appreciated! - Blue

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

You’re standing in a crowd of people talking shit about each other or blood purity, blah, blah, blah. Although you’d rather be listening to the other people at this ‘Pureblood only’ party that your mother dragged you to, then listen to her talk at you, ripping at everything about you because the ribbon you tied around the waist of your dress was red and gold.

You wanted to have something with you that didn’t make you want to set everything on fire, or maybe you could borrow some of those fireworks James and Remus made, or - you got snapped out of your thoughts of ‘justified arson’ by someone yelling “Sirius Orion Black!”

Oh shit- that was one of the biggest reasons you hated going to these things since Sirius had ‘family’ in this little clique, he was dragged to them. You always made a big effort to not let anyone at Hogwarts know you were related to these monsters.

Everyone but a few Slytherins knew you as a muggleborn, Including your friends, you knew you should tell them the truth, but something always stopped you.

So you spent these parties hiding from Sirius, seeing him in a room meant you went to another, or even just went to the bathroom for the whole event so there was no way he would see you. You wanted to tell him, so these things wouldn’t be as bad, so you’d have someone to talk to, but you thought that if he, or any of your friends found out, you’d be dropped as their friend and that was the worst thing that could happen to you.

As Sirius and his mother walked into the room, you went to the other room, but unlucky, Sirius saw the little bit of red in the sea of green, going after you, knowing that no one who went to these things would ever wear red. But he missed you by a second. A seconded that, to you, saved your friendship. You and Sirius ended up playing a game of hide and seek for the rest of the night before you finally got to leave.

The next morning when you walked into the common room to see James, Remus and Lily sitting on the floor watching Sirius pace in front of the fireplace talking faster than a snitch flies.

“Who broke Sirius?” you raise your eyebrows sitting next to Remus on the floor.

“He had to go to one of those pureblood parties and a girl was there” he sighs, you stiffen, knowing it was you

“It’s not about her being a girl! It was that she had a red ribbon!” he yelled, before dramatically falling to lay on the floor.

“What’s it matter that she was wearing a red ribbon?” Lily asked leaning on James, making him turn as red as the couch “No don’t make him talk again!” Remus half laughs, but was also being a bit serious (no pun intended)

“Because! If you were listening, no one at these parties wears red, it’s like poison to them, meaning this girl must have known that and chose to wear it, meaning she doesn’t think like them!”

“Sounds like your jumping to conclusions Pads,” James says, still red “No! Cause she also was basically running from me all night

“She sounds smart” You smirk “Either way, why does it matter?” “It means that there’s someone there who is also a Gryffindor, you guys wouldn’t understand…” He trails off, you wanted so badly to hug him and say, I know exactly what you’re saying

“Guys, I’m hungry, can we go to breakfast now?” Remus whines standing up, we all nod and agree getting up

“Last person there has to do Sirius’s homework!” you half yell making everyone run out of the room down to the great hall, once everyone gets there, Lily ends up coming last, meaning James will end up doing Sirius’s homework.

“How do you always get here first?” Remus says panting (pun 100% intended)

“Cause I remember all the shortcuts here” he grins

“I think that’s cheating and Sirius is disqualified meaning he has to do his own homework, all in favour?” Lily glaring but smiling at Sirius as everyone, but him raises their hand “You’re all sore losers!” everyone laughed sitting down and starting to eat.

About halfway through breakfast a bunch of owls come in, dropping everyone letters. You don’t pay too much attention to it, you rarely get letters, and when you do, it’s just your parents shouting insults at you. So when a letter drops in front of you it made you flinch. Noting it’s in a green envelope you shove it in your pocket. Sirius frowns but doesn’t say anything.

The group go about the day, having classes, watching James try to flirt with Lily, Sirius trying to flirt with you, the norm.

But after charms with Slytherin, you and the boys had planned a prank for Lucius Malfoy, he was bullying a first-year Hufflepuff, no one messes with Hufflepuffs and gets away with it.

Right as it was about to go into action, he got out of the way of the red dye about to fall on his plantation blonde hair. The group all groan, seeing Severus smirk as he leaves the classroom, you guess he told Malfoy about it but the looks of things.

“Watch it ‘mudblood’.” he smirks, putting ‘mudblood’ in quotations, he was one of the people who knew about you not being muggleborn, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone, but now he uses it as blackmail on you.

“Don’t call her that!” Sirius yells, going to pull out his wand, to hex him into next year.

“Y/N, I suggest you control your friend there, he does anything to me, I’ll tell your little group about your dearest mother and father. To be honest, I’m surprised you’ve kept your mouth shut about it for so long” he chuckles as he turns to leave, Sirius fuming about to go after him again

“Sirius. Just, leave it” you mumble

“Why! He can’t say that to you!”

“Cause we’d get detention and I have a…thing…I need to go to this weekend, and if I miss it, I’ll get bea- in big trouble….I’m going to the library I have homework to do, I’ll see you guys later” you rush off

“She’s not going to the library” Remus utters, both James and Sirius look at him funny “You can’t get to library from that way”

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Sirius says going off after you

“Wanna go get lunch Moony?” James says after Sirius runs off

“Sounds good”

***

You reach the black lake, taking out the letter your parents sent you this morning, ripping it open and reading it. It was the normal ‘disgrace, worthless, traitor’ it hurts more than you expected, plus a reminder at the bottom that you’re going to another gathering this weekend.

You drop the letter next to you, hugging your knees to your chest, tears start falling. You sat like that for almost an hour before someone sat next to you

“Been lookin’ for you everywhere love” you look up and It’s Sirius “What’s wrong?”

He frowns looking down seeing the letter, and a green envelope, just like the ones his family sends him, he goes to grab it, but you snatch it away before he can

“What’s the letter say? It’s clearly upset you” he shuffles closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Not thinking clearly, you say the first excuse that comes to your mind

“Mum just told me that, my aunt died,” you say not looking at him

“Y//n, I know that’s not true”

“What do you mean it’s not true! I just read the bloody letter”

“Cause this is the fourth letter in a row telling you that an aunt has died, you’re not very good at lying”

“You’d be surprised” you mumble so Sirius doesn’t hear you

“Come on, you can tell me anything, you can tell me the truth”

“You don’t want to know the truth, Sirius!” You snap at him running up to the castle.

You spent the rest of the week avoiding your friends, well Sirius, but he’s always with them, so it meant avoiding them too.

It was Saturday night, and you were at the pureblood party, and completely miserable. You go over and stand next to your father

“Couldn’t help but bring that ‘Gryffindor’ pride with you?” your father says looking down at you. You’ve never felt so small “Take that stupid thing off”  

“S-sorry father” you look down you taking off the red ribbon

“Disgrace” he mutters walking away

Not wanting to look as alone as you felt, you go outside though some fancy glass doors, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, for once you didn’t want to set the place on fire, you wanted to set yourself on fire, you felt cold, but not from the weather, from spending a week away from your friends, and re-reading all the letters your ‘family’ sent to you.

You didn’t notice, but Sirius had just walked in. He’s looking around for the red ribbon, hoping that ‘whoever’ she is, was here tonight, he sees the ribbon by the doors, smirking “fuckin’ finally” he thinks, once he’s outside he sees that it’s you.

“Y-Y/n?”

Your eyes go wide ‘well tonight can’t get worse’ you think, turning to him but not daring to look in his eyes

“How’d you get here? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you” You show Sirius the ‘invite’ to the party

“I-I don’t understand, you’re not muggleborn you’re pureblood? Why didn’t you tell me?” he frowns

“I didn’t want you to think of me as one of them” You look inside, you can practically hear them saying mudblood

You could see cogs turning his brain though his eyes as he was piecing it all together “All the letters were from them?”

You nod, pulling out a bunch of paper from your bag “Only letters I ever get” you choke handing them to Sirius He looks through them, anger boiling inside him

“They say I’m a traitor, pathetic, disappointment, disgrace, worthless, unloved, unneeded…I guess I am really” Sirius pulls you into a hug.

“You’re nothing like them, and you’re none of those things, I’m so glad I met you, I don’t know where I’d be without you… actually I do, I’d be in there bored outta my mind,” You hold him tighter burying your head in his neck

You hear Sirius’s mother calling him from inside, you pull away smirking at him, and spark in your eye, as if you weren’t about to burst out crying.

Sirius looks at you confused but smiling “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours”

“Well since we’re stuck here for a bit, why don’t we have some fun” you grin tying ribbon back around your waist

“I like the sound of that”

You grab Sirius’s hand and pull in inside to where a song is playing and people are dancing respectfully in pairs.

“Hey, Pads? May I have this dance?”

“Hey, isn’t that my line?”

You roll your eyes as you both go to where the dancing is. Sirius holds you by your waist pulling you close

You raise your eyebrow and Sirius winks at you “Do you know what personal space is?” smirking you wrap your arms around his neck, only making you both closer “Doesn’t seem like you mind” his voice drops an octave

“Who would mind being this close to Sirius Orion Black” Sirius looks down at your lips.

“The way my name sounds coming off your lips is making me want to kiss you,” he says sensually, smirking and pulling you closer (if that’s even possible) you bite your lip, flicking your eyes from his lips

“Sirius.Orion.Black”

He crashes his lips to yours, sending sparks through each other, it felt like it was always meant to be, but ruining the moment both your mothers are pulling you apart, saying things like blood traitors, despicable, etc, making you both laugh

“See you at school!” Sirius calls as his mother drags him out

“If we make it back!”

You both laugh, your mothers going off.

~ A few months later ~

You were taking a walk around the grounds finding Sirius sitting by the black lake holding a letter “Parents?” you say sitting by him, wrapping him in a hug as he nods

“Th-they disowned me…It’s like I don’t give a fuck, I hate them…but it still hurts”

You laugh a bit “You’re kidding right?” “Hm?” he tilts his head to the side as you pull a letter from your robes

“Got it yesterday” you hand letter to him He lets out a laugh “They disowned you too?!” “They couldn’t wait one day? So we can get disowned together?” you both laugh

“I love you, Sirius Orion”

“Now that sounds so much better coming from your lips” he has his cheeky grin on his face “Does it make you want to kiss me?” you smirk “It makes me want to kiss you forever” as he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

[leafs-lover]

If he's lucky I'll let him join

Part 8: Everything's changed

Series Masterlist

A/N: The ending is finally here, don’t hate me too much!

Warnings: Swearing, angst (I think that’s it)

Word Count: 2000

“I uh-“ you bring a hand up to wipe away a stray tear. “I gotta go,” you whisper. Pulling away you practically run to the door.

“He doesn’t want you,” he calls out as you reach the door. Letting go of the handle you turn around, Auston still in the middle of the living room, the exact spot you left him. “You’re going to see him? Fred?” he queries, sensing your next move. Your face contorts and you take a deep breath preparing for his next words.

“I know him, he’s not interested like that, not anymore,” Auston says lightly.

Anymore.

That word stings. When did Fred stop losing interest? Was it when you had the first threesome, or the second? When did he stop wanting you, and how didn’t you notice?

“You’re wrong,” you say yanking the door open and heading down the hall. He is wrong, it has to be. Needs to be.

“Hey,” Fred says opening the door. The smile on his face falls when he sees the devastation written all over yours. “What’s wrong?” he asks, knowing you are more upset than a few hours ago.

He attempts to pull you into his chest but you throw his arms down, stepping around him into his apartment. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks concerned. The large metal door slams shut, the sound echoes through you, the hairs on the nap of your neck standing upright.

“Do you like me?” you ask bluntly.

“Of course I do y/n,” he laughs in disbelief. “I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“No, but do you like me?” you repeat. “Do you see a future for us? Or am I just an easy lay?”

“You’re not just an easy lay,” he says somewhat disheartened. “You’re a great girl, I love spending time with you.”

That’s not the answer you wanted to hear. That is the answer you have given men before, men have given to you. Normally it’s followed up by some cliché bullshit, “it’s not you it’s me,” or, “I think we’re better off as friends.” It’s the kind of statement used to soften the blow, though it never does.

Sensing there is more you probe him, “but?”

“I just don’t see this being more than what it is,” he shifts awkwardly on his feet, running his hand through his long red hair. With hairdressers and barbershops closed and playoffs approaching, Fred along with a few other players have been growing their hair out. It’s now about an inch and half longer than you have ever seen it before. “I don’t see it…not anymore.”

There it is, that word again. The word that implies you had a future, a potential, but it has been ripped from you. Worse part is you didn’t even know it happened.

“When?” you demand, fighting back your tears. You hear his door gently open, Fred’s eyes snapping up to meet the sound before falling back to you.

“Let’s sit y/n,” he offers. Reaching out for your hand you shake him off.

“No, just answer my question," you plead.

"Y/N," he sighs, eyes flickering over your face.

"When?" You're tone is getting louder, your frustration with the situation, and his inability to explain his feelings, bubbling up. "When did you stop seeing something with me?”

“When you two fucked,” he blurts out, his eyes shifting between you and Auston. “Finding out you two were spending time together, together, just the two of you. I just…I can’t get past it.”

“But it –“

“No, you can’t say it was just sex, or nothing serious y/n, you can’t,” he sighs. Taking a few seconds to compose himself, he continues, “I saw how you both looked at each other at parties last year. I noticed how his breath would catch in his throat when you’d walk in, or how your eyes lingered a little too long on him. It sucked,” he says. His eyes drop to the floor momentarily as if looking at you suddenly hurts, but he finally musters up the courage to meet your gaze once more. Straight faced, Fred’s eyes bore into you with a fear— a vulnerability you’ve never seen before.

“But coming back this season I didn’t really have expectations on us. We hadn’t seen each other much since last March really, we talked a bit but that was it. I didn’t know if we’d kind of pick up where we left off or if it would just be sex. And in the beginning it was just sex, that’s why it didn’t matter when he’d be there too,” he eyes to Auston who is leaning against the door, silently watching the exchange.

“At some point it changed for me and I started to get the idea it did for you too,” his eyes are full of sorrow as they stare at you. “So I ignored the lingering glances when we’d watch movies, or how when we’d make dinner he’d pull you aside for a kiss. I thought it was just a part of the threesomes, and that when he left it was us. Just you and me,” his voice breaks while he fights through the pain.

“I thought you’re mind was solely with me and none of that mattered. Maybe I was in denial, or too blind to see it…But once I found out you two were fucking, that’s when I knew it wasn’t in my head. Some part of you was with him, even if you couldn’t admit it. And honestly if it was anyone else I probably wouldn’t care, but knowing it’s someone you look at that way, I just….no y/n I don’t see a relationship with you, not anymore.”

“I…I’m sorry,” you whine. Frustrated tears trickle down your cheeks as you pull the edge of your hood over your head, wanting to hide your weakness from the room as if somehow it’s judging you.

You have spent the past couple weeks trying to process your feelings for both men, trying to separate them. It’s not an easy task given how you spend so much time with both of them. Internally you have gone back and forth between the two, and you thought it would become glaringly obvious which way you were leaning. Which man your heart was leaning towards.

Hearing Fred, hearing how he doesn’t want you, you realize just how much you want him. How much it is him you want to be with. You realized you never wanted someone as much as you ache for Fred, and it tears you open from the inside out knowing he doesn’t feel the same in return.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he steps forward wrapping his arms around you. “You were allowed to sleep with anybody you wanted, we never talked about it, and we probably should have. Or once I started to feel differently I definitely should have, but you don’t have to apologize, you did nothing wrong.”

That burns. How could you have done nothing wrong, yet you are losing him? If you did nothing wrong he should be yours. Things don’t end if everything goes well.

“Okay,” you croak out, barely managing to find your voice.

He holds you, and for a minute you feel safe. Almost as if the thing you’ve wanted for a year and a half isn’t shattering into a million pieces around you. It almost feels right, you almost feel safe. Your tears scorch your cheeks but pale in comparison to the hollowness in your heart.

He doesn’t let you go, not until you are ready. His heart against your ear calms you down. Each time it thuds, you cry a little less, until finally you have no more tears to shed. Sensing your easing grip on his shirt, he pulls back and places a soft kiss on your forehead. “You two should talk,” he breathes lightly.

Releasing you, he walks away leaving you with Auston. Turning slightly you see him leaning against the wall, having watched the entire exchange. Your eyes sting from the tears but you can still see the despair written on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

How can he ask you that? Right here and now? He can tell you are crushed by losing Fred, how can he expect you to be so willing to carry on with him as if nothing happened? You’re furious— the pulsating devastation inside your chest borderline unbearable. How you’re still standing is a mystery.

Your voice is barely a whisper as you admit, “I don’t know how to give you what you need.”

“I’m not asking for you to, not today,” he steps forward causing you shoulders to stiffen. “I get your in pain right now, but I’m still here. I want to be here. Whether it’s a week, a month, 3 months. I want to be here, with you,” he smiles at you. “I want you.”

“I…I can’t,” you barely manage a whisper. Gulping you feel tears building behind your eyes. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

You catch a nerve. His eyes turn dark as the muscles begin clenching in his jaw, and he suddenly starts rubbing his hands across his stubble. A nervous tick. He always does that when he’s uncomfortable. Pushing past him you reach for the handle when one of his hands grasps your arm. His grip is tight, likely going to leave marks but he doesn’t care. Leaning down his voice is hollow, “you leave y/n and that’s it. The minute you walk out that door, that’s it.”

His eyes narrow at you, waiting for your response, when you don’t, he suddenly lets go of your bicep. “Auston, I-“

“Are you saying no to now, or no to forever?” he asks. Staring up at him you know he knows the answer, the pain in his eyes tugging on your compassion. You’re relationship with Auston was mostly based on sex, but when you actually sat down and talked to him, confided in him your worries and fears, he listened. He consoled you, comforted you, made you laugh to keep you distracted, but it just isn’t enough.

Fred has always had a piece of your heart, a big piece. It wasn’t until you heard Auston admit his feelings, making summer plans, that you realized he wasn’t the person you wants those plans with. But Fred doesn’t want you, you can’t just forget about the mark he left and move on with Auston. Your heart doesn’t belong to Auston, it belongs to the person who doesn’t want it. You just wish it didn’t take you so long to notice.

“You’ll make some girl really happy one day,” you sniffle wiping away the tears from your eyes.

It’s true, Auston is a great guy, an amazing guy. The blow of losing Fred would only be masked if you had Auston to curl up with at night. He could bandage you up, pick up the pieces. Only problem is he won’t find all the pieces. Or maybe he would one day, but it’s not fair to him to stand by waiting to see what person comes out the other side. And once you do come out, would you still want Auston? Or would his purpose be served now that you were whole?

It’s not fair to string him along, especially if you don’t know if your heart will be his in the end. Everything is going to hurt like hell tomorrow, that much you were sure of, but in the long run, this is for the best. Turning away you grab the handle. This time he doesn’t stop you, this time you walk out the door, and out of both their lives for good.

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh�� this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[floralseokjin]

final sleigh drabble #3

❛ Seokjin has an idea…❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here

kim seokjin x reader  smut, oral (female receiving) 2,409 words 

Seokjin noticed Ana trailing into the kitchen first seeing as you were too busy nosing through his cupboards in hunt of something for brunch. “Good morning, or should I say,” he glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes to midday.” 

“Morning,” your best friend greeted, tone unenthusiastic. “Do you have any coffee?” 

“I made some not too long ago. It should still be hot enough.” 

You joined Seokjin who was leant up against one of the counters, watching Ana grab two mugs from the draining board. “What time did you two wake up?” She asked, looking in your direction. 

“Too early. Seokjin snores.” 

“Hey, no I don’t!” He exclaimed. “Y/N kicks in her sleep. I’m surprised I’m not black and blue.” 

Ana chuckled, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “You get used to it.” 

Folding his arms, Seokjin suddenly looking curious. “Where’s the sex god himself then?” 

As Ana poured the coffee, she immediately looked unimpressed. “Are we just going to pretend like you two weren’t up to no good last night too?” 

“Up to no good?” Seokjin repeated, turning to you with judgement in his eyes. “Why do you guys speak like you’re middle aged?” Before you could think to whack him, he was talking again. “Anyway, I have no idea what you’re referring to. Y/N and I played monopoly and were fast asleep by 11pm.” 

“Sure, now who’s middle aged?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, but really, where is Yoongi?” 

“In the shower. He asked for coffee.” 

“And you’re just going to get it for him?” Seokjin snorted. 

“I wanted some too.” 

Tutting, Seokjin pushed himself off the counter. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger already. Watch him, he may be small but he’s dangerous.” 

With a scoff, your best friend looked your way, grabbing the two mugs. “I can’t believe you’re fucking him, Y/N.” 

“Me neither.” 

Her parting words as she left the kitchen caused chaos. “No wonder she calls you dick cheese.” 

“Dick what?!” Seokjin roared in disbelief. 

Great, thanks for that, Ana... 

.

.

You spent the rest of the day at Seokjin’s place, watching lame Christmas movies on his sofa. You hadn’t brought fresh clothes, not expecting to spend the night so Seokjin had loaned you a pair of his boxers and sweats (drawstring pulled as tight it could go around your waist), plus a t-shirt, which was painful ill-fitting, but it beat your laddered tights... Ana had gone home a couple of hours ago, her and Yoongi awkwardly saying goodbye to one another as you and Seokjin watched in amusement and then soon after that Yoongi slipped out, meeting his Aunt’s family for dinner. 

Seokjin soon made use of an empty house... Right now you were stretched out on top of him, moulded against his body, your lips swollen and sticky from too much kissing. “Seokjin,” you whined lowly, needing to catch your breath.

He grunted, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your throat instead. “Mmm. You’ve made me hard again.” 

You swore this man had bountiful amounts of energy. You were still a little stiff from last night (and this morning) but grinding down on his crotch like you couldn’t help it (you couldn’t) heat pooled between your legs. “Do you want to head to your room?”

He pulled his head back and grinned impishly. “I have a better idea. Sit on my face. Right here.” To emphasise his point he slapped your ass with both hands, bumping you into his crotch again. 

“No way.” 

He frowned instantly. “No way to the sofa? Or to face sitting in general?”

You let yourself think. It was mostly the sofa situation, but the idea of just blatantly sitting on his face did make you a little self-conscious... Then again, there wasn’t really a reason to feel nervous with Seokjin. “The sofa.” You decided. 

His face lit up. “Ah, so you want to ride my face then. Dirty, dirty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you before his hands reached between your bodies to cup your boobs. You didn’t have a bra on, your nipples were so hard they practically stabbed him. 

“Get off,” you grumbled, cheeks reddening as you struggled to free yourself. He was not getting a rise out of you. “Why do you want me to do it so much?”

He wrapped his arms around you again, but loosely this time, looking up at you as if you were stupid. “Because it’ll be fucking hot!” 

You snorted, but you had to admit the way he was so enthusiastic about it was a major turn on. 

“I’ve been imagining it ever since I ate you out at work.” 

That too. 

He squeezed you and leaned up to kiss your mouth. “Death by your pussy seems an excellent way to kick the proverbial bucket.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that slowly grew on your face. “Would I go to jail for that?”

He audibly thought about it, humming loudly before he decided. “Second degree murder, I’d say.” 

“Oh, my god,” you snorted.

“Are we doing this or not?” He whined. “Because now my I could knock a hole through the wall with my dick and I’m drooling.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You got turned on by the thought of me suffocating you with my pussy?” 

“Eyy, she’s learning,” he grinned up at you. “I’ll get you to say cunt by the end of the year.” 

“Not seriously you won’t.” 

You reached for a kiss this time, his mouth dropping slightly so your tongue could meet his, and you clutched your fists to the top he wore – an evil purple and grey striped thing that stuck to the outline of his chest. You were done for. 

Breaking away, his eyelids were heavy, voice all a deep, a serious whisper. “Sit that hot, wet cunt on my face, Y/N.” 

“Stopppp,” you whined, whacking his chest and he huffed out before breaking into an annoying fit of giggles. You did not find him very funny. “Let’s go upstairs.” 

He clung to you as you tried to get up. “Yoongi won’t be back yet. We’re safe.” 

“But–

“You’re going to make me walk all the way upstairs with this in my pants. It’s weighting me down. I already did it once last night, it was exhausting.” He moaned. 

He was so dramatic. But you didn’t need much convincing. “Fine.” 

“Yes. Finally!” He exclaimed, letting you go so you were able to strip off from the waist down. You were like a woman possessed when it came to Seokjin, fighting with the drawstring of your borrowed sweatpants in a bid to get naked as fast as possible. 

He took the time to reposition himself, resting his head against the arm of the couch for support. He watched you undress, eyes sweeping over your bare c-u-n-t, and he rushed you with his hands, gesturing you to climb aboard. “Sit that pussy right on my tastebuds, baby.” 

“I am seriously questioning my life choices right now,” you told him as you moved, pausing as your legs straddled his chest. 

He shrugged. “And yet you’re about to take a seat on this throne.” 

“None of what you’re saying is making any sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you get girls at all?” 

His face fell serious. “Confession: I was a virgin before you.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoffed, jumping when his hands cupped your bare ass, massaging warmth throughout your whole body, (and most importantly what laid between your legs). 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m way too good in the sack for that to be believable.” 

Rolling your eyes you disagreed. “Way too full of yourself maybe...” 

He chuckled but didn’t indulge you any further, nudging you forward. “Okay, enough talking, more sitting. Take this pretty face for a ride.” 

Fighting back the urge to retort, you listened, straddling his shoulders, centimetres away from his face. You instinctively tried to obstruct his view, crouching over his body, which was pretty pointless. It did nothing. 

“Don’t be shy,” he said, although his voice was softer that moments previous.

You relaxed, concentrating on the way one of his hands curved the round of your ass, giving it an instinctive squeeze. His other hand moved towards your inner thigh, spreading you apart so he could tilt his head towards your heat. He inhaled, a low groan of pleasure rumbling from his throat and you tensed up immediately. “Stop sniffing me, you pervert.” 

He pulled back, all you could see were his eyes. “Says the one who’s groping me.” 

Huh? It took you a moment to realise one of your arms was behind your back, hand cupping his junk on its own accord. You went to pull away but he objected. 

“No, don’t take your hand away!” He took the opportunity to roll his hips into your palm, urging you to continue. He was painfully solid, you could feel him perfectly over his sweatpants. You could feel his breath against your core and it was quickly becoming torture. 

“Okay, Seokjin, come on!” You pressed suddenly. How come you were doing all the pleasuring? “You practically begged me to sit on your face and you’re not even doing anything!” 

“Patience,” he chuckled, his hot breath tickling you as he exhaled. “Besides, maybe I want to make you beg for it...” 

You would not beg. Nuh uh. Let this turn into a stand-off if needed. However as luck would have it, he was feeling impatient too, and not even a couple of seconds later he had a face full of vagina, his tongue curling out to spread your folds. It felt good, don’t get you wrong, but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window. You were not alone alone. If that made sense. 

“This is so wrong,” you whispered, voice quivering when his lips dragged along your clit, breaking away from your wet heat to look up at you. You couldn’t see his mouth, but the tip of his nose glistened with your arousal. 

“What is?” He asked, confused. 

“What if someone can see in?” Ten seconds ago a man with his dog had walked along the sidewalk. 

“Unless they walk into the yard and press their face up against the window at the exact, painfully awkward angle to look through the shutters, I think we’re safe.” He sounded impatient and you guessed he had a point... You were safe. Nobody could see you sitting on Seokjin’s face. 

“Now move a little,” he told you, pushing you forward by the ass, disappearing once again. “Make a mess of me, baby, I don’t care. I want to get dirty.” 

You mean, you couldn’t really say no to that... Could you? Not when he was so eager and willing. So you started grinding. You still felt a little awkward at first, the position way too intimate to what you were used to, but with the low groans escaping Seokjin’s throat your confidence soon grew, encouraged to chase your high. 

You bunched your borrowed t-shirt up in one fist, eager to see what was going on down there and as Seokjin suctioned his lips around your clit his eyes snapped up to yours. You moaned loudly, turned on by the visual, your hips rolling involuntary. 

God, you needed to touch him again. Eagerly, you leaned back a little, your ass settled against his palms as you still attempted to jerk into his mouth, tongue now busy flicking against your clit. You were still moaning, your fingers slipping in his sweatpants from behind, feeling the warmth of his hard cock. He grunted, lifting his hips up eagerly and you immediately started jerking him off. The angle was shit, your grip and rhythm uneven but it seemed to do the trick as he groaned against you. The vibrations were something else, and unable to stop yourself, you reached for the back of his head with the hand that had been clutching the t-shirt. 

You attempted to hold him there, rolling your hips all over him despite how messy it was turning. You were very wet by now – both your doing – so the squelching noises just added fuel to the fire. This was fucking sinful but so, so addictive. 

“Ngnnn. Seokjin–!” You cried, unable to keep jerking him off with the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. You were getting distracted, greedy for the inevitable. 

“Pleaseee.” Your mouth was also running away with you, begging shamelessly. 

Seokjin grunted, no time for words as he pushed his face further into your heat (if that was possible), neck strained as he tried to meet your angle, veins hard and prominent. He was so fucking hot it was unfair. 

“Oh, my... shit, oh.” You couldn’t keep up with the rapid flick of his tongue, chest heaving as you panted. Who cared about the window now that your orgasm was nigh? Not you! Just a little bit more and you’d cum. You gripped the roots of his hair, readying yourself. He moaned loudly, loving it. 

A... little... bit... more... 

The moan that ripped from your throat signalled the beginning of the end, your whole body tensing as you teetered over the edge. “Yes, yesss, Seokjin, I’m, nghh–!” You cried, voice breaking as pleasure exploded throughout your body, every nerve feeling alive. 

You rode his tongue until you couldn’t take any more, ripping away from him to fall back on his stomach, still panting like crazy. Sitting up slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You did not make that easy at all. I’m sure I pulled a fucking muscle.” 

“Quit being a baby,” you chided. After all, he was the one that had practically begged you to sit on his face. (Not that there’d been much sitting...) 

He looked fucked out, cheeks rosy, smeared in your arousal, lips plumper than usual and the tips of his dark fringe were wet and curled. He looked insanely kissable, but before you could think to act, he was talking. 

“Care to help?” 

You frowned, unsure what he was going on about, until you felt his arm move against your hip. You looked over your shoulder, seeing his hand in his pants, the motion of the fabric moving up and down making it very obvious what he was busy doing... 

“Or are you just gonna watch me give myself a hand job?”

Now that sounded fun... 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[kim-ruzek]

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.

[flowercrown-bard]

To give without knowing (8/?)

word count: ~5k

read on AO3

previous / next

Geralt felt warm, comfortable, safe. He wanted to keep this feeling, savour it. Still half-asleep he curled closer around himself to get more of this, when something tickled his face. He scrunched his nose to keep from sneezing and twisted his face away.

At least that was what he wanted to do, but all he achieved was that he accidentally nuzzled even more into the thing that had been tickling him. By all accounts, it should have been uncomfortable, but as Geralt drew in a deep breath, taking in the rare smell of safety, happiness and home, he felt anything but uncomfortable.

If he could, he would stay like this forever. He would forget that he was a witcher, that the bruises fading on his skin were caused by monsters and humans alike and he would get to keep the feeling of arms being wrapped around his body, holding him close protectively.

And just like that the impossibly perfect moment shattered. Something was very very wrong with this. Witchers didn't get to be held in loving arms. They didn't get to doze and snuggle with people that made them feel safe.

Geralt's eyes snapped open and he fought to get his racing heart back under control when he realised the full extent of what he was doing.

His nose was buried in Jaskier's hair and his arms were wound around Jaskier's waist, holding him close.

It was impossible to breathe with this closeness. Abruptly he let go - possibly too quickly, but Geralt's head wasn't clear enough to think about what would happen if he woke Jaskier with the sudden movement. All he could think about was what Jaskier's arms felt like around him and how right it felt holding Jaskier in return, fitting against Geralt's chest as if he belonged there.

This was wrong. This was wrong and Geralt couldn't allow himself to remain like this any longer. If he did, he might never let go.

With bated breath and a painful tightness in his chest, he tried to pull himself back, out of Jaskier's embrace away from the feeling of home and safety.

Maybe Jaskier sensed what he was doing in his sleep or maybe he just had a dream about a lover of his, for his arms tightened around Geralt and he snuggled impossibly closer, his head resting right above Geralt's heart. He must hear it pounding. He must. After all, it felt like his chest couldn't contain his heart for much longer.

With trembling hands, Geralt tried to pry Jaskier's fingers away from him, but Jaskier let out a soft whine, his breath ghosting over Geralt's skin and sending a shiver up his spine. It was enough to freeze Geralt. He couldn't move, couldn't push Jaskier away, not if it felt so much as if Jaskier wanted to hold him close, even though Geralt knew that Jaskier would never want anything like that if he was awake.

People like Jaskier didn't want to hold people like Geralt. Jaskier considered him his friend and Geralt trusted him when he said he didn't need to earn this, but that was it. Being friends was one thing. Wanting to hold the other in the night was something else entirely. There was a reason why Jaskier had never made any advances towards Geralt, despite never being shy around anyone holding his interest. No, if Jaskier wanted him, then he would have shown it by now.

Not that it mattered.

They were friends, which was already more than Geralt could have ever hoped for. He didn't need anything more than that. Didn't want that. What he had with Jaskier was everything Geralt could wish for. And if that strange feeling in his chest grew as Jaskier sighed contently and began rubbing small circles into Geralt's skin, then that didn't have to mean anything. Geralt just wasn't used to those types of touches. Nothing more. There was no reason to think too much about this - there was nothing to think about.

Just as there was no particular reason why Geralt gave up the fight and let himself stay right where he was, breathing in lungfulls of air and letting the scent of home calm his mind.

If his fingers loosened their grip that had been meant to push Jaskier away, turned soft and cradled him close, then there was no one around to witness this. No one could prove Geralt had ever done such a thing. He would stop this before Jaskier woke up and go back to how he'd always been. This morning would be nothing but a memory for Geralt alone to treasure and Jaskier would be none the wiser.

He closed his eyes again as his body relaxed against Jaskier.

A snap not too far away had him tense and alert in a heartbeat.

He stiffened and listened to the noise of someone approaching. The sound was too far away still to make out how many people there were - it could be only one man just as well as ten - but the sounds were coming closer with every second.

Geralt's pulse spiked up. They were far from the town, but this wouldn't be the first time someone had come after Geralt in their rage and tried to finish him off in his sleep.

But this would be the first time that Jaskier was there with him. Jaskier couldn't get hurt. Not again.

Still, the steps came closer and ever muscle in Geralt's body tightened, ready to lunge for his sword and defend the man in his arms.

Unaware of the nearing danger, Jaskier gave another content sigh and without thinking Geralt clasped a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound.

Jaskier eyes flew open. His confusion turned into mortification when he registered just how close he was to Geralt. His eyes widened and his breathing became shallow. Geralt could feel Jaskier's rabbit heartbeat against his own chest.

Jaskier scooted away from Geralt, who clenched his jaw and slowly he took his hand away.

Clearly, that had been a mistake.

As soon as Jaskier was free, words tumbled out of his mouth.

"I am so sorry. I swear I didn't - I wouldn't - well, not wouldn't, but I didn't mean to. I was asleep and you -" With every word more and more colour rose in Jaskier's cheeks.

"Quiet!" Geralt hissed gruffly.

"Yes, right, of course. Wouldn't want to make this any more awkward. Not that it's awkward. At least not to me. Of course not. I often wake up with handsome people-I mean not that I think - alright, I very clearly think that you –

"Jaskier!"

Jaskier's moth snapped shut, his face bright red.

It would have been endearing if Jaskier's babbling might not have just alerted the stranger to where they were.

Silently, Geralt sat up and reached for his sword. Now, Jaskier, too, seemed to catch on to something not being right. With wide eyes he pulled the blanket higher up as if it could protect him from whatever was lurking out there.

"Geralt," he whispered, "what-"

Geralt gestured for him to be quiet. The steps got closer. Geralt could hear the rustling of fabric and the tell-tale sound of a sword being drawn.

Behind him, Jaskier's heart was racing.

"I'll go to see what that is," Geralt mouthed to him. "You wait here."

Jaskier shook his head, his lips tightening into a thin line. Of course Jaskier wouldn't feel safe alone. Geralt gritted his teeth.

As quietly as he could, he went over to Jaskier's back and pulled out the wolf-figure, tossing it to Jaskier. He knew it was useless, that it could do nothing to protect Jaskier, but it didn't need to. That's what Geralt was here for, but he couldn't provide comfort. Not like the tale of protective fae magic could.

Sure enough, as soon as Jaskier's fingers closed around the smooth wood, some of the worry left his face. Something warm and soft fluttered through Geralt's chest like a bird longing to soar.

He forced himself to ignore the feeling and pushed through the trees, getting closer to the stranger with each step until he could hear his heartbeat....his unusually slow heartbeat. His familiarly slow heartbeat.

Geralt lowered his sword right before he brushed a branch to the side and set eyes on the familiar red of his brother's amour.

"Eskel!" he called out and watched how his brother's stern face morphed into something bright. His scars twisted as his lips split into a wide grin.

"Wolf!" In one smooth motion, Eskel sheathed his sword and strode over to Geralt. Geralt didn't resist when Eskel pulled him into a bone crushing hug. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am," Geralt said, but it didn't come out as assuring as he aimed for. How could it, when just a day ago he had prepared himself to face his fate, with only the thought of Jaskier stopping him from doing anything that would end in his own death?

Geralt knew that he couldn’t hide the insincerity in his voice from his brother. He felt it in the way Eskel's arms tightened around him before pulling away. Eskel's hands remained on Geralt's shoulders, while his eyes roamed over Geralt, taking in each bruise and cut they could find.

Geralt did the same. Only now did he notice the heavy bags beneath Eskel's eyes and the haunted look in them.

"Fuck, Eskel, you look horrible. What happened?"

Eskel let out a shallow laugh. It twisted his lips but didn't reach his eyes.

"I found the remnants of your hunt," Eskel said in a serious voice. "Dead bodies. The smell of your blood. I spent hours tracking the scent of you being hurt. Fuck, Geralt, I thought you were dead." His voice trembled. "A grown manticore? Really? I didn't think anyone would be stupid and reckless enough to fight one on their own."

Geralt squirmed under Eskel's intense gaze. "Don’t bother. I already got that talk from my bard."

Eskel’s brows shot up and he dropped his hands to his sides. "Jaskier? Is he here?"

He always is. Instead of saying that, Geralt only let out an affirming grunt. Judging from the way Eskel cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Geralt, it did nothing to mask the fondness that threatened to creep into his voice.

"He wouldn't let me die," Geralt said with a lopsided grin, though his stomach churned as those words left his mouth. "The idiot would rather get himself killed and haunt me as a ghost to make sure that I was safe than let me get killed."

"Good to know that you finally got it into your head that you won't get rid of me."

Geralt didn't flinch when Jaskier's voice piped up from behind him unexpectedly, but it was a damn near thing.

"Jaskier," he growled, throwing a glare over his shoulder. "I told you to stay back."

Jaskier rolled his eyes. "You also just said that I wouldn't let you get hurt. So really, expecting me to let you go anywhere alone after what happened yesterday is just unrealistic."

Geralt huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, as if that could contain the warm feeling that ignited in him at the way Jaskier had said he would stand by Geralt as if anything else was absurd.

When it became clear that Geralt wouldn't dignify Jaskier's words with a response, Eskel stepped forth, with a hint of a smile on his face - just enough to be recognisable as such without tugging on the scars.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Jaskier. I am Eskel."

Jaskier's face lit up. "’Finally’? So you’ve heard of me?" There was a strange hopefulness to his voice that Geralt couldn't place.

He could feel Eskel side-eying him and shook his head inconspicuously but empathetically while doing his best to keep a blank expression on his face.

Eskel's grin got a bit wider and Geralt insides clenched with dread.

"I heard a little. You are quite the talk of the keep during the winter."

Panic shot through Geralt, though he didn't understand why exactly he was so worried about Jaskier knowing that Geralt talked about him. The uncomfortable feeling only ebbed away when Eskel shrugged nonchalantly and added, "It would have been impossible not to hear about the bard singing about witchers." He winced. "Or rather, the only bard singing good things about witchers."

Jaskier's sunny expression fell. It wasn't hard to guess why. Geralt still remembered the one time an exasperated mother had asked him to sing a nursery rhyme for her misbehaving children... A nursery rhyme about how witchers took away and ate disobedient children. Jaskier had looked stricken and even more horrified when he had realised that Geralt wasn’t about to try and tell her that such things were nothing but lies.

That night, Jaskier hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He had been kept awake by his mission to write as many nursery rhymes about witchers saving children as he had space in his journal for.

Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck, none if his usual bravado and stage persona on display. "I know it's not much, I’m just... doing what I can."

Eskel's smile softened. "I think you're doing plenty. More than anyone else would have done for us. I'd say you have changed all witchers’ lives for the better." He nudged Geralt in the ribs none too subtly. "Some more than others."

The tips of Jaskier's ears turned red and the corners of his lips twitched. "Thank you. For saying that." Jaskier hesitated. "And for watching out for Geralt during the winters."

Geralt's breath got stuck in his throat. There was an overpowering urge inside him to say something, something important, but no words would form.

Eskel inclined his head. "Of course I do. He's important to me. He's family and I want to see him safe."

A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two of them, for Jaskier returned the nod almost solemnly.

Uncertain of the direction this conversation was headed, Geralt shifted on his feet. "So, Eskel, what about you? Now that you found me, do you have any other hunts planned?"

Eskel's focus shifted back to Geralt. He titled his head to the side in contemplation. "I've been thinking. If that manticore is still out there, we could hunt it together."

Immediately Jaskier’s face grew stormy and Geralt stiffened.

"I don't think those town folks will be to welcoming to witchers any time soon."

Geralt didn't need to elaborate, he saw on the shadow that crossed Eskel's face that he understood without Geralt needing to relive what had happened with his words. Eskel's eyes drifted to Jaskier, lingering on the cut on his forehead.

His lips thinned. "Not very welcoming to bards there either, I take it?"

Jaskier let out a sharp breath and lifted his chin, eyes ablaze. "I couldn't care less if they would welcome me back. I wouldn't want to stay with people like that for all the songs in the world."

"But you would stay with a witcher?"

"Obviously," Jaskier said with a boyish grin.

A fond expression flickered over Eskel's face that made Geralt's insides twist uncomfortably. He swallowed thickly.

"Eskel." His voice had no business sounding so rough. "How about we continue this at our camp? You look like you could need some rest."

Relief flooded through Geralt at the chance of turning away and hiding face that must be showing something. He couldn't name what it was he was feeling - he didn't want to examine it any closer either - seeing the two people closest to him already having silent conversations as if trusting each other fully. As if trusting Geralt's judgment of the other.

His heart skipped a beat at that thought. The two most important people to him. There was no denying that that was what they were, but it felt somehow forbidden even thinking such a thing.

With Eskel, Geralt knew exactly where he stood. They had gone through everything together since they had met other as children. He knew he was important to Eskel, as a brother, as someone who had always been there for him.

But with Jaskier? It was clear for everyone to see that Jaskier was important to Geralt, the only friend apart from Roach he had on the Path and the only person who had ever spend more than a handful of months by his side.

But what was he to Jaskier? His muse, so much Jaskier had made clear the first time they had met. His friend. Though Jaskier had called him that shortly after getting to know him and there was no way that Jaskier had meant it then. Yes, he had said it again, had told Geralt to trust him and he did. He did trust him more than any witcher should ever trust anyone else. But Jaskier had other friends, had lovers and admirers, other muses.

Jaskier was Geralt's only friend outside of his family. But to Jaskier, Geralt could be as easily replaceable as a bundle of lute strings, no matter how much he might truly like Geralt.

As Geralt led Eskel to their campsite, he couldn't help but listen in on Jaskier talking to Eskel and Eskel laughing quietly at the jokes Jaskier cracked.

He didn't realise just how tense he was, until he heard Jaskier hurrying to catch up with him and put his hand on his arm. Geralt turned his head slightly and there Jaskier was, smiling at him, as if there wasn't a much more interesting and much kinder witcher right there for him to latch onto.

Something unfurled in Geralt's chest and he returned the smile. Whatever that uncomfortable feeling in his guts had been, it turned into something soft.

They reached the camp and Jaskier immediately let himself drop dramatically to the ground to stretch his legs as if he had just run a mile. Geralt shook his head with a bemused expression and sat down next to him, close to him, without thinking. Eskel followed his example and made himself comfortable at Geralt's other side, his eyes drifting curiously over the camp and getting stuck on something behind Jaskier.

Geralt turned slightly to see what had Eskel so interested. There was nothing unusual. Just their supplies, Roach's saddle and their bedrolls.

Geralt froze.

The bedrolls. The bedrolls that were lying suspiciously close together. When he risked another glance at Eskel, his eyebrows were lifted, but somehow it didn't look questioning, as if Eskel had come to his own conclusions already.

Geralt didn't know if he liked those conclusions. But even less than that did Geralt like that the conclusions were probably false.

Then Eskel's eyes widened, a rare sort of wonder filling them.

"Jaskier," he said slowly, "where did you get that?"

Geralt and Jaskier followed his eyes. When Geralt's gaze fell on what Eskel had spied, his chest clenched and panic surged through him.

Jaskier's face however brightened as if Eskel had just told him he had been declared the most talented bard on the continent.

"Oh, you mean my little wolf?"

Jaskier reached back to grab the wolf figure from where it was tangled in the mess of blankets. He hesitated only a second before handing it over to Eskel who took it reverently and inspected it with narrowed eyes.

"This is beautifully done."

He didn't need to say it out loud for Geralt to know what he meant by that. More beautifully than anything else Geralt had ever carved.

"Thanks," Jaskier said, voice tinged with pride and his eyes glinted. "It's very dear to me. It was a gift from someone very special."

"Oh?" This time it seemed Eskel didn't care about his scars, his smile stretched about his full face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

The glint in Jaskier's eyes turned mischievous and he leaned conspiratorially towards Eskel, uncaring that he was practically draping himself over Geralt.

"It's from the fae," he stage-whispered and sent Eskel a wink.

Eskel looked dumbfounded. "The fae?" He repeated slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Why of course." Jaskier sat back, putting a hand on Geralt's shoulder for balance. "Who else could have crafted such a beautiful thing?" His grin faded into a simple smile. It should have subdued his joy, but it only turned it into something more tentative, something too precious for words to describe. "I named this one Winter." His smile wavered, though his eyes remained alight. "So I’ll still have a wolf to keep me company during the cold months."

For some reason Geralt couldn't begin to understand, Eskel turned to Geralt at these words, giving him a pointedly expectant look that Geralt avoided equally pointedly. He didn't want Eskel to look at him like that, didn't want him to plant any ideas in Geralt's head that he knew he would regret later.

When Geralt didn't make a move to ask Jaskier the unbelievably stupid question that Eskel no doubt wanted him to ask and that Geralt himself had thought about every year when autumn had turned into winter, Eskel sighed.

He turned the wolf over in his hands in contemplation, before handing it back to Jaskier.

"I have one too. Not a wolf, but one of those figures, I mean," Eskel said with a nod to the wolf.

Jaskier perked up. "Really? What is it? Something dramatic like a dragon? A griffin maybe?"

Eskel chuckled. "A goat. I always carry it with me when I'm on the Path. It reminds me of -"

Geralt thrust his elbow into Eskel's ribs, cutting him of effectively and mouthing an insistent ‘don't’ at him.

Eskel's eyes twinkled in glee. "-of my own goat back at Kaer Morhen. A right menace she is. Unapproachable and willing to kick anyone who comes near her. Lambert always says she's the most dangerous thing at Kaer Morhen and Geralt regularly threatens to kick her out of the keep if she doesn't stop stealing and chewing his socks. But once you got her trust she's as soft as a lamb."

Jaskier hummed softly and Geralt could feel his eyes on him. "Good thing she's got you then. She needs someone if everyone else keeps insisting that she's not worth keeping around."

Eskel inclined his head. "I'm glad too."

Once again, there seemed to be a whole different conversation going on between the two of them that Geralt couldn't even begin to unpack.

"What about you, Geralt?" Eskel said with a grin that could only mean trouble. It was the same grin he had always given him as a child when they were about to wreak havoc while knowing fully well they would get away with it. Geralt didn't like one bit having this grin turned against him now with Jaskier as Eskel's co-conspirator. "Aren't you glad Lil' Bleater has a friend in me?"

Geralt grunted and Eskel and Jaskier shared a meaningful look before bursting into laughs.

Geralt wanted to squint at Eskel, have his own wordless conversation with him telling him to cut it out, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Jaskier, who tried to cover his mouth with a hand to stifle any noise as if his laugh wasn't the most beautiful sound Geralt had ever heard. His shaking shoulders bumped into Geralt and it took every ounce of strength for Geralt not to put an arm around Jaskier and pull him close, so he could bury his head in Geralt's chest instead of his hands.

Eskel's laugh quieted down first and Geralt could feel his contemplative eyes on him.

Eskel knew. Geralt wasn't sure what exactly Eskel knew. Maybe it was even more than Geralt himself knew.

It should have been unsettling, but Geralt felt only felt relief. Even if he himself didn't know what he felt, it was nice that his brother was here, like he always was, to help him through it, despite the teasing and the shit-eating grins.

As mid-day approached, Eskel and Jaskier kept talking. About poetry, about what places they had been too, about everything and nothing.

And Geralt... Geralt probably should have contributed to the conversation. He should have said something witty or charming or interesting. But all he did was sit back and watch the two of them get along as if they had already decided on being friends with a warm feeling in his chest.

Geralt had always looked forward to winter when he'd get to see his family again and would be able to just sit back while feeling completely safe and at home.

As he sat between his brother and his best friend now, he thought of the way he had felt waking up in Jaskier's arms, about how his friend’s eyes somehow became bluer when he laughed and about how quickly he had warmed up to Eskel as if the fact that Geralt liked him was enough to make Jaskier like him as well.

Jaskier joked as if he had known Eskel for ages and Eskel laughed as if he didn't care what he looked like. And Geralt thought of home.

-

They continued to travel together for a while longer. Eskel and Geralt did end up finishing off the manticore, though neither of them tried to see if the town would pay them for it. They didn't do it for the townspeople anyway and Jaskier's proud smile and the way he looked at Geralt as if he truly was the hero he kept singing about was worth it.

A day later they split paths again.

This time it was Geralt who pulled Eskel into a hug, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. When he pulled back, he saw Jaskier looking at him with an unreadable expression. It must be strange to see a witcher show the sort of affection that people always said they couldn't feel.

"See you in winter, Wolf," Eskel said and clapped Geralt on the back one last time before he turned to Jaskier.

"Songbird." His lips twitched. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

Jaskier returned his smile. "I sure hope so."

So did Geralt.

"Where will you be going now?" Geralt asked as Eskel shouldered his bag.

"South. I haven't been to Gors Velen in a long time." He hesitated. "I hear there is a basilisk not far from here towards the mountains. In case you wanted to take that contract."

Geralt raised a brow. "Why don't you take it?"

A sly grin stole onto Eskel's lips and he winked at Jaskier. "Because I've yet to hear a song about basilisks. I'm expecting to hear one when we see each other again."

Jaskier snorted. "I'll try my best. If someone doesn't sabotage me again by refusing to let me watch or tell me about the fight."

Geralt rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop his own smile. "As if you'd ever stick to the facts anyway."

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Yes. One you'll lose."

Instead of dignifying Geralt's words with a response, Jaskier turned to Eskel with mock-desperation.

"See what I have to deal with?"

Eskel's eyes crinkled. "He's truly a menace, isn't he?" He let out a long breath. "Take care of each other."

With that, he left. Geralt watched his retreating form, the familiar heaviness he always felt when parting with his family weighing down on him. He was torn out of the melancholy creeping up on him by Jaskier touching his hand gently.

When Geralt turned to him, he found Jaskier's eyes already on him.

"So about that basilisk," Jaskier said in an overly carefree voice. "Those are those snake monsters with the creepy eyes, aren't they?"

Geralt let out a snort, the last of the heaviness falling away. Jaskier's eyes narrowed and he poked Geralt in the chest.

"Oh no. You do not get to laugh at me and then not give me a real account of what they look like," Jaskier challenged in a voice that made Geralt think that maybe he was just being dramatic to distract Geralt. It was working. "Unless you tell me what an actual basilisk looks like, I will write my song about a big snake that you fight with mirrors like they did in the old days."

The corners of Geralt's mouth quirked up. Though he rolled his eyes, he began to talk, to tell Jaskier all about the ugly head and the similarities to chickens. With every word Geralt spoke, the more disappointed Jaskier looked. By the end of his description, Geralt had to fight with himself not to dissolve into laughter at the sight of Jaskier's pout.

"A snake would have been so much better. How on earth am I supposed to make a giant chicken sound menacing and dramatic?" Jaskier let out a sigh that proved that he had the capability to turn everything dramatic if he so desired. "A snake on the other hand! That's something I could work with. There are just so many ways to describe the beauty of the scales and the grace of the movements!"

"You really like snakes, don't you?"

Jaskier shrugged. "What can I say? They are fascinating. Pretty and poisonous."

"Like a buttercup," Geralt said far too fondly.

"Exactly." Jaskier suddenly perked up. "Oh! Do you think a wooden snake would be pretty too? I am sure it would make the most wonderful addition to my collection."

Geralt huffed out a laugh. Before he could think about what he was doing, he broke off a piece of a branch in passing and handed it to Jaskier who took it instinctively.

Now, the bard was staring at the stick in his hand with confusion written all over his face.

Before Jaskier could say a thing, Geralt explained, "It's a snake."

For a heartbeat Jaskier said nothing, then he burst into laughter, steadying himself on Geralt's arm with his free hand and wiping away tears with the back of the one still holding the stick.

"What a thoughtful present," Jaskier wheezed. "I shall treasure it always."

Geralt knew that was a lie. It was just a stick, nothing pretty and nothing that could be believed to carry any magic. Nothing about it was worth keeping.

At the most, Jaskier would keep it for a couple more minutes to keep up the playfulness, but then he would surely toss it over his shoulder and forget all about it.

Geralt wasn't prepared to watch Jaskier holding the stick close to his chest for the rest of the walk and then safely tucking it into his bag where he kept his other treasures as if the less-than-plain thing Geralt had given him as a joke was no less precious than a supposed gift from the fae.

---

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[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 15

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: This one is longer because I’m trying to finish this story up…I AM SO IN LOVE with this gif by illuminated-blue. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Mind the warnings.

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic violence (I put *** at beginning and end as usual), and domestic fluff 

The rest of the day was pretty boring after Erin dropped off Milo. You were still a little tired and spent most of the day lazing around. It wasn’t due to a lack of energy though. You wanted to do something, but Billie kept making you relax. You would get up for a drink or to walk Milo, but she would insist on doing it for you. She assured you that she wasn’t too busy to help out. She didn’t have a lot scheduled for the next couple of days, just a few calls and those didn’t seem to last long. You had stopped trying to argue with her after the third time she told you to sit.

At first it was weird for you to stay at Billie’s house and do absolutely nothing. You didn’t realize how much you weren’t allowed to do until deciding to stay put on the couch. You tried turning on the television and Billie had shot you a look from where she was working at the dining room table. You were going to go stir crazy if you had to keep sitting around.  

The second night you spend at Billie’s was worse than the first. You weren’t as tired this time, so it was more difficult for you to fall asleep. You also had Milo with you which you loved until he would wake up to scratch or wander around the room. Any noise from him aggravated your headache and you ended up kicking him out to go sleep downstairs. You made sure that the laundry room door was closed before going back to sleep. Or at least trying to.

It was 2 am before your headache went away enough to sleep, and you were woken up by scratching at the door around 7 am. Luckily it stopped pretty quickly, and you know you had Billie to thank for that. When you finally woke up, you had breakfast waiting for you and Milo was already taken care of. So, there was nothing for you to do other than eat and sit around.

The only problem was that you’d been doing this for hours. You finally grew tired of staring at the ceiling around 3 in the afternoon and you sit up with a sigh.

You look around the room to see that Billie is still working on something. You sneak a peek at Milo before looking at the clock again. It’s been a while since he’s gone out, so you know you should walk him soon. You sigh before reaching out for him and mouthing the word ‘walk’ with a smile.

He starts to wag his tail and you look back over to Billie to see that she hasn’t caught on yet. You know that the likelihood of you out running the medium is slim to none, but you might as well try. You turn back to Milo about to tell him to get his leash when Billie’s voice startles you.

“Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?”

You turn back to Billie to see that she’s looking at you with a frown and a raised eyebrow that would usually make you cave. However, you are very bored and just want to walk your dog. You don’t even have to go that far. Just to the damn street.

“I was going to walk Milo.”

This is what Billie expected you to say and she starts to stand up. You shake your head as you tell Milo to get his leash with a sigh.

“Billie. No, I can do it. Please. I can’t sit around anymore.”

You watch as Milo flees and Billie gets up and walks over to you. You’re pouting and doing your best to get Billie to give in, but she’s not budging. She moves to sit next to you with a sigh before shaking her head as Milo returns with his leash which he drops in your lap.

“Y/N, you’re really not supposed to--.”

You cut Billie off because you’ve heard this before. You were supposed to just sit on your ass all day and do nothing and you hated it. You are grateful for everything that Billie’s done to help you, but you really needed to get out of the house and get some fresh air. Even if only for a few minutes.

“Please Billie! I just need to get out for a bit. Please?”

Billie stares at you as she contemplates her options. She is actually surprised that you’ve lasted this long without disobeying your doctor’s orders. You had accepted all of the restrictions that she had put in place with minimal argument, so she supposes she should let you have this. It would only be for a few minutes anyways.

“Alright, but I’m coming with you.”

You smile in excitement before nodding a little too vigorously. You remember last second to keep your face neutral so Billie doesn’t have a reason to take it back. She watches as you get Milo’s leash on and move to stand up, but she beats you to it. She’s up and holding out and hand for you and you smile gratefully before taking it with a sigh.

“Thank you.”

Billie just smiles as she meets you halfway for a quick kiss. Your smile widens before you pet Milo and ask him again if he’s ready for a walk. He yips before jumping up on you only to be pushed down quickly. You shoot him a half-hearted glare before telling him to calm down.

“No, Milo. We’re going on a walk, but we’re going to take it nice and slow okay?”

Billie smiles as Milo just pants happily before heading for the door. You follow him and quickly put on your shoes.

You still haven’t gotten Billie to agree to take you back to your apartment to get some of your things. You were wearing the only clothes of Billie’s that fit you, and although they were fine you felt a little weird. You were very particular about your things which is why the next item on your list was getting back to your place to at least get a change of clothes.

That was a battle for a different day though.

“Remember, we could run into reporters, Y/N.”

You of course, hadn’t thought about this and you pause as you consider how you will handle it. Your first thought is to just ignore them, but then you realize that never really works. You sigh as you shake your head with a smile before looking to Milo.

“Milo will scare them away.”

Both you and Billie look to Milo who is panting excitedly as he practically bounces while waiting for you to open the door. You smile as you reach out to pet Milo before turning to see Billie rolling her eyes. She doesn’t doubt that Milo can scare people away, but you didn’t like him doing that. He wasn’t an aggressive dog, and you didn’t want people to see him that way. She knew you were mostly joking, but she still decided that maybe she should hold onto him in case he got a little too excited.

You nod at this before handing Milo’s leash to Billie. You only have to think for a minute about how your dog could easily drag you in the state you’re in before looking to him with a serious expression.

“Be good Milo. No pulling okay.”

You wait until Milo calms down a little before opening the door and following Billie out. You squint as you step out into the sunlight, but you feel better as the heat hits your skin. You don’t usually mind lazing around inside, but not being able to watch or read anything is just torture. You follow Billie down the stairs, making sure to hold the railing as you take careful steps. You smile as Billie leads Milo to a nearby tree and your dog sniffs around for something that he’s picked up on. You frown a few seconds later as you see something small run out from behind the tree and into the bushes. Milo goes to chase after it and you open your mouth to call him off, but Billie beats you to it.

“Milo, no! Leave that poor thing alone, let’s go.”

You can’t help but smile as you watch Milo turn away from the bushes and follow Billie down the driveway. You realize you’re falling behind when Billie stops and waits for you with an expectant look. You meet her with a smile before grabbing her hand because you can already feel your head start to swim as you look around.

“You’ll let me know when you need a break?”

You just smile before nodding in agreement. You really want to get out, but you know better than to push yourself too much. That won’t help you in the long run.

You, Billie, and Milo walk through the neighborhood mostly in silence. By the time 15 minutes pass you are holding tight to Billie’s arm as you walk with your eyes mostly closed. For this reason, you miss the look Billie shoots you, and you’re surprised when you suddenly stop. You open your eyes to see Billie watching you and you blush slightly when you realize you’ve been caught. You just nod when Billie suggests that it’s time to turn around, and Milo leads the way back to the house.

“How are you feeling?”

You shrug slightly before mentioning that your head hurts, but not too badly. It’s not a lie because it definitely hurts, but not nearly as much as when you left the hospital. You smile as you reach out to pet Milo, but he moves last minute and you nearly fall. You groan as Billie catches you and you just let yourself fall to the ground. You sit down and take a second to breathe before you’re tackled by Milo. You sputter and push him away from you while trying to get his fur out of your mouth. You groan again as Billie pulls him away from you before sitting down. You try to wave her off, but it doesn’t really work and she’s down on the sidewalk beside you before you can even get a word out.

“It’s fine, Billie. I’m just a little tired.”

You lean into her with a yawn as you close your eyes again. You could fall asleep here if it weren’t for the fact that you were pretty sure you were sitting at the end of someone’s driveway. Still, Billie lets you rest for a few minutes before Milo starts to whine at you both. Billie sighs and you groan under your breath at your obnoxious dog's behavior.

“Alright, Milo. Let’s go.”

The three of you arrive back to Billie’s without any further issues, and you are quick to move to the kitchen before you’re ordered back to the couch. You sit at the counter and put your head down with a sigh. You didn’t check to see what time it was, but you are really hungry and wouldn’t be opposed to eating now. You hear Billie walk up beside you before placing a hand on your shoulder. You don’t move immediately because the cool counter feels nice against your throbbing forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

You smile before sitting up, not opening your eyes until you turn to Billie. You ask her if you can cook and she shakes her head before telling you that you should rest. You pout but quickly realize that it’s no use. Billie wasn’t going to give in to you again, at least not so soon. You decide to cut your losses before asking if you can order food which of course Billie agrees to. She is all for not cooking if she doesn’t have to. You also offer to pay and look around for your wallet that Erin brought yesterday. You of course have no idea where it is, but Billie doesn’t really care. She is shaking her head before looking around for her phone. She hadn’t taken it on the walk with her and she was just now realizing how that hadn’t been smart. Luckily, she hadn’t needed it, but now she did and it was nowhere to be found.

Instead of wasting time looking, she grabs her computer before returning to the kitchen. She nearly trips over Milo who hurries to join you after finishing his post-walk roll-around on the carpet. He bounds over to you with his tail wagging furiously before sitting next to your chair. You scowl at him before apologizing to Billie who just shakes her head with a smile.

“Sorry about that, he’s a little careless.”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Where do you want to get take out?”

You’re asleep by the time the food arrives, but you’re woken up by the doorbell. You hear Milo bark once before racing towards the door and you sigh as you try to stifle a yawn. After ordering food, you and Billie had moved back to the living room. She had finished her work for the day and you wanted to cuddle, but as always you ended up falling asleep on her.

You’d shifted in your sleep at some point, so Billie was able to get up without disturbing you. She stands up and hurries to shush Milo as she opens the door. Standing there is a brunette who is probably in his early twenties carrying a large bag of food that smells great. Billie hears Milo start sniffing furiously, but she ignores him as she looks beyond the person on her porch.

Down past her driveway there are a couple of cars on the street. They hadn’t been there when you returned on your walk and they definitely didn’t belong to the brunette in front of her. Billie just manages to spot someone in the front seat of one of them before the brunette, Noah, speaks up.

“Uh, Hi I’m Noah. Here’s your food and uh this.”

Billie frowns as she takes the bag but watches as Noah moves slightly so he’s standing between her and the cars on the street. She doesn’t get a chance to question this as Noah coughs slightly before speaking up. He’s holding out his hand to her and she looks to the money with a frown.

“What is this?”

Noah shifts his weight back and forth before managing to look Billie in the eyes.

“So those reporters out there gave me this to ask you something, but I don’t like getting in other people’s business, so I’ll just give you that.”

Billie takes the $50 because she’s too stunned to do anything, but as Noah turns to leave, she finally gathers her wits.

“Noah, wait.”

The brunette turns back to the medium, eyeing her and then her scary looking dog before finding his voice.

“Uh, yes?”

Billie hands him back the money because honestly she doesn’t need it. She doesn’t really want it. The thought of those reporters trying to bribe her delivery guy is ridiculous, and at the moment the only thing she’s grateful for is the fact that he didn’t go for it.

“Keep this, dear. You deserve it. But can you tell them one thing for me?”

The smell of food makes you sit up and you look around excitedly to see Billie and Milo both heading towards you. You run a hand through your hair with a sigh. You’re so glad that you took a shower, but damn your hair was still not behaving. You see Billie smiling in that mischievous way of hers and you can’t help but smile as you tilt your head slightly.  

“Did you have any trouble?”

Billie sits down next to you before shaking her head with a laugh. She has to wave Milo off as he tries to sniff each item that she pulls out of the bag. She figures that she should see if you want to eat at the table, but you look so comfortable wrapped up in your blanket that Billie doesn’t want to make you move. She just finishes unpacking the food that’s honestly way too much for the two of you before shrugging.

“Not at all. Reporters are just camped outside trying to bribe our delivery driver.”

You roll your eyes at this news as you wrap the blanket around you tighter before you start to survey the food you and Billie ordered. You ask almost absentmindedly.

“Oh yeah. What did you tell them?”

Billie smiles as she recalls the look on Noah’s face when she gave him the message for the reporters. She wasn’t sure if he was going to actually do it, but it would be funny either way. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. It was just for her entertainment.

“I told him to keep the money and to tell the reporters to shove it.”

You laugh as you shoot Billie a questioning look. You have a feeling that what she’d actually said was a little more colorful, but when Billie just smiles at you, you decide to drop it. You smile as you grab a container of food before handing it to Billie.

“For you.”

Billie takes it with a smile before leaning in to kiss your forehead. She pulls away and shoots you a worried look that you just nod at.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You sigh before claiming that you feel better. You smile a little as you mention that your nap helped. You are less tired and your head doesn’t hurt as much. When you say this, Billie realizes that it’s almost time for your medicine again. You were sent home with a couple medications that were supposed to make your headaches better, but so far you’d only taken them a couple of times. You were really bad about remembering to take your meds, and Billie hadn’t realized this until today.

However, now that she knew, Billie was all over it. She was making sure you took them every 8 to 12 hours whether you were feeling poorly or not. You try to stop her as she heads for the kitchen to grab them for you, but it’s no use.

“Billie, I can--.”

“I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start eating.”

You sigh in defeat before just nodding to yourself. You didn’t like having someone wait on you, but you were glad that if it had to be anyone, that it was Billie. She wasn’t mean or condescending toward you, and it wasn’t a power trip for her. She didn’t hold things over your head like others had.

You don’t realize how lost in thought you’d been until Billie is back and handing you two pills and a glass of water. You smile appreciatively before taking them both and quickly downing your pills before drinking some of the water. You realize that you haven’t been drinking enough because you nearly drink the whole thing before Billie speaks up.

“Where did you go?”

You smile slightly realizing you were caught before you shake your head. You had wanted to wait a little bit to talk about this, but you supposed now was as good a time as any. You put your now empty glass down before fixing your blanket with a sigh. You pat the space next to you waiting for Billie to join you, but Milo beats her to it. You groan before snapping your fingers at your dog and telling him to get down. He doesn’t listen immediately, but when you tell him to get to bed he jumps down and moves around the couch. You can’t see him from here but you assume he does as he’s told because Billie just smiles before she sits down next to you.

“Is something on your mind?”

You wait until Billie’s settled before sitting back so you can face her. You nod before trying to figure out what to say first as you fiddle with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“I was thinking about what you mentioned earlier. About filing a police report?”

Billie just nods as she waits for you to continue. She’s not sure where you’re going with this, but she decides to wait and see instead of jumping to what she hopes you’re going to say. She watches as you shift uncomfortably before glancing over to where Milo’s situated in his bed.

“I don’t think I want to do it. I know it’s—it’s probably a good idea, but I just don’t want to get into it.”

Billie frowns at both your explanation and the way you’re struggling to say whatever is on your mind. She doesn’t like the idea of not knowing what’s bothering you, but she starts to nod anyway. She wants to respect your wishes and if you want to drop it, she’ll drop it. She will just try to get a better explanation later.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

You are surprised by this until you think about what you just said and you curse. You didn’t realize how that sounded and you shake your head quickly before wincing at the action. You move closer to Billie so you can take her hand before deciding to just get it over with. You always worry about someone not wanting to be close to you because of your endless baggage, but you trust Billie and she’s only ever proven that she wants to help you or be there for you. She hasn’t used anything you’ve told her against you.

“Hey, that’s not what I meant, Billie. I don’t want to get into this mess with Doug because it reminds me of the mess I went through with…her.”

It takes Billie a minute to figure out who you’re talking about, but you just wait patiently for her to put the pieces together. You know that you should just come out and say it, but it’s embarrassing and you thought that you’d told Billie enough about your ex for at least the next couple months or so.

You hadn’t expected to be in the situation you were in now, and you definitely hadn’t needed the reminder of how stressful it was to deal with the police.

You groan under your breath before you hide your head in your hands with a sigh.

“God, why do I have so much baggage?”

Your head hurts too much to attempt a joke and you just leave it at that as you plan your next words very carefully. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you frown before turning to face Billie. She’s frowning too, but she seems more worried than you are and you don’t like it.

“You don’t have to tell me Y/N. You know that.”

You do know this, and you also know that Billie means what she’s saying. She doesn’t push you to do anything you don’t want to, unless it’s for your own good, and you love that about her. This; however, you need to tell her about. Especially if it explains why you are letting that asshole Doug get away with giving you a concussion.

“I know, but it might help you make sense of this stupid decision.”

Billie wants to argue with you, but she wants to wait until she has all of the facts first.

***

For the next twenty minutes or so you and Billie eat while talking about your past relationship. It wasn’t exactly your idea of good dinner conversation, but you were at least glad to be getting this off your chest. You reiterate how your ex had been manipulative and controlling and how this eventually turned into physical abuse. You tell her how the other woman had gotten joy from making you feel terribly and watching you become the shy, obedient girlfriend that she’d always wanted.

You realized pretty quickly what was happening and how fucked up it was. You didn’t like to have your voice stifled, but every time you fought against her, she fought back. It got to the point that you didn’t feel safe around her. You didn’t enjoy her presence like you had when you first met, so you tried to leave. You took Milo and you moved back home, and you thought that was the end of it.

“She showed up really drunk one night when my dad was gone, and we got into a huge fight.”

You mention how violent things had gotten and how you’d both ended up in the hospital. You had broken your wrist while she had been bitten by Milo who came to your defense. She’d threatened to sue you and you’d threatened to get a restraining order against her when the police showed up to your hospital room.

Billie watches as you shift uncomfortably before dropping the blanket that you had just been holding to your chest. She waits as you take a deep breath before looking to your dog who had moved back to sit in front of you when you started eating.

“I was going to do it too, but then she came back and threatened to take Milo from me.”

You hadn’t believed that she could actually do it, but when she’d shown you the adoption papers that you’d left in your shared apartment you had panicked. You couldn’t risk losing Milo to someone that you knew didn’t really want him. She had treated him as poorly as she’d treated you, only sometimes you were able to redirect her aggression against your dog to you so you didn’t have to pay for any more bites.

“I agreed that I wouldn’t get a restraining order and she gave me back the papers. I guess I—I considered doing it anyway, but then I got the job out here and then my dad…I figured it would be okay.”

Billie wants nothing more than to hug you, but she sees how tense you are and she doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. So she just frowns as she tries to figure out what you’re going to say next. You sigh heavily before you abandon your corner of the couch and move towards Billie. You just sit in front of her for a second before you manage to admit why you really don’t want to think about what Doug did any longer.

“I just—I know it’s not healthy, but I don’t want to think about her anymore. If I try to do this thing with Doug I know it’s all I will be able to think about, and then I’ll get worried again. I’ll become that person again, and I’ll be looking over my shoulder for her all the time and I just--.”

Billie decides to take the chance, and she cuts off your rambling with a hug. She feels you stiffen slightly before you fall into the embrace and wrap your arms around her tightly. You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel tears start to fall and dammit this is why you didn’t want to do this.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re not surprised when you start crying harder at Billie’s words and you curse yourself as your headache comes back full force. You hide your face in Billie’s shoulder as you mutter things that you never had been able to say to her face. To anyone’s really.

“How are you this nice to me? How do I deserve this?”

Billie hates how confused you sound and how you seem to genuinely believe that you are not worthy of what Billie believes is basic kindness. She hates how someone wrecked your expectations so thoroughly that you are surprised when people treat you the way you should be treated. She has a lot that she wants to say, but Billie sticks with what she believes to be the most important for now.

“Y/N. You deserve everything anyone could ever give you. You’re such a sweet, caring person and I’m in awe of how strong you are.”

You sniffle pitifully into Billie’s hair before she sighs in defeat. She has no idea how someone could be so cruel to you. She just knows that she’ll do everything in her power to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.

“You’re amazing, Y/N, and you deserve to be reminded of it every day.”

***

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you pull back so you can see Billie’s kind and earnest expression. You smile slightly before you nod thoughtfully. You need to stop thinking so poorly of yourself. You know you do, but some habits, regardless of how quickly they form or how long they last, are hard to break. You sigh again as you kiss Billie in thanks. Your head is pounding, but you smile wider as you play with the ends of Billie Dean’s hair.

“Thank you, Billie. I-.”

You pause as you stare into Billie’s eyes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you shake your head. You look away for a second before you’re smiling again, your heart pounding inside your chest.

“That means a lot.”

Later that night, you are nearly falling asleep on the couch when Billie calls Milo to go out for a walk. It’s nearly 10 and if it wasn’t going to be just a quick run outside, you’d insist on going with her.

Since your talk at dinner, you and Billie had been a little off, and it was making you nervous. You aren’t sure what it is but you figure that it has something to do with what you’d told her. You didn’t often divulge the gruesome details of your past, and really only, relationship easily, but you trusted Billie and you wanted her to know about your past. No matter how painful.

Now Billie hadn’t said or done anything to make you feel like she was upset with you, but –you couldn’t explain what it was. It was probably all in your head. You were worried that you’d freaked Billie out with your dicey history.

As you watch her leave with Milo you sigh heavily before looking around the room. You don’t know what you want to do, but you find yourself wandering to the kitchen for leftovers. You aren’t even really hungry, but you need to keep yourself busy or else you’ll get yourself worked up overthinking things. You open the fridge and grab the first box you see.

You’re still standing at the counter eating from the to-go box when Milo and Billie come back. Milo finds you first and he runs up to you with his tail wagging in excitement. He plants himself down right beside you with a pleading look. You just shake your head at him because he’s not getting any of your food. The last time he got into leftovers he had diarrhea for a week. You were not dealing with that again.

Especially at Billie’s house.

You don’t get to cringe at that thought before you hear Billie arrive to the kitchen. You’re standing with your back to her and you smile guiltily as you turn around to face her. You’re not surprised to see her frowning, so you hold your food out to her with a questioning look.

“Do you want some?”

Billie sighs before shaking her head and moving past you to get to the fridge. You watch as she opens it and grabs a bottle of wine. You look to the clock again before frowning.

“Do you have more work to do tonight?”

Billie pours herself a glass before sighing in defeat. She didn’t really need to do anything else tonight, but Michelle had just sent her something that she wanted to look at before tomorrow’s interview. All day she’d been working on preparing for it, but she and Michelle had overlooked a potentially important question that might come up.

Billie tells you that she has some last-minute prep to do and you just nod before putting your food up. You are really tired but you don’t want to go to sleep yet. At least not alone. You were going to see if Billie would keep you company, but it looked like she had work to do.

“Okay, well I’ll probably just get ready to sleep then.”

Billie nods before asking if you want her to go with you, or rather help you upstairs. You shake your head though because you’d done fine on your own since you woke up this morning. You start to head out before you turn back to Billie who is still standing in the kitchen looking a little distant.

“Do you mind if I say hi to the kittens, first?”

Billie smiles before muttering an ‘of course not’, so you take Milo with you to wait in the guest room while you go love on some kittens.

You make it up the stairs easily enough and after dropping off Milo, you head to the laundry room. You open the door quietly so you don’t disturb the kittens. You smile as Bit looks at you before promptly returning to grooming duty and she ignores you as you wander towards her to get a look at Mickey and Co. You sigh as you watch them all shift around and mewl at each other.

They were getting so big and you couldn’t help but want to pick them up and feel on them. You resist however because it was late and you didn’t want to disturb them too much. Instead, you just sit down with a sigh watching from across the room as Bit finally settles back down next to her kittens.

You wonder how Billie was going to part with them all. She had mentioned keeping Mickey, but she’d said nothing about Bit. She would need to be spayed soon, and you could talk about that at your next visit, but for now you didn’t really care. You wanted to take at least one of the kittens, but you weren’t sure how that would work. Milo was okay with Mickey for a limited time, but you had to make sure that this behavior would extend to any cat that you brought home. It was worth figuring out, but you were too tired to consider it at the moment.

You lean back against the washer with a yawn before you close your eyes. You were just going to rest for a minute then you would get ready for bed.

Billie was still downstairs reading through what Michelle had sent her when you drifted off in the laundry room. She was worried about tomorrow. More worried than she’d typically be for an interview. Tomorrow wasn’t just going to be the standard, ‘tell us about the new season of your show’ interview. Now that Billie was seeing someone and they’d been in the media so much, there was no way that this wouldn’t be a topic of conversation. Billie just hoped that it wasn’t going to overshadow the real reason why she was doing this interview.

She had agreed with confirming her relationship with you, before the events of this week had pretty much done that for her. She had been excited to do so, and she hated that she was a little less thrilled about having the conversation.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want people to know about you, or even ask about you. She was proud of you and wanted to show you off. She didn’t; however, want to answer intrusive questions that were really no one’s business but your own. Billie was just lucky enough to be privy to some of your secrets. She could always pretend not to know, but after a long talk with Michelle and Jeff about this, it was decided that refusing to comment about this week’s incidents wouldn’t look good.

It didn’t matter how it was framed, not knowing about what was going on with you, or pretending not to would cause more speculation that Billie didn’t want.

Billie’s goal for tomorrow was to talk about her show that would be airing in just a couple of weeks. She would talk about what viewers should expect, how filming it went, and whether or not there would be more to come.

She had also decided that she would talk about you enough to placate whoever wanted to know, but not too much to make you uncomfortable. That was Billie’s main concern, and after having permission to talk about what happened on Sunday and the first night you spent at her house, she was feeling a little better. She wouldn’t say too much and she didn’t plan on making any of it a big deal.

She just really wanted to promote her show and talk a little bit about her girlfriend.

When Billie finally finished up and decided to go to bed, it was around 11. She was tired and needed to sleep. She needed to get up early to make it to the studio in time for makeup and all of that. Billie was still thinking about how late she could wake up when she arrived upstairs and immediately heard whining from down the hall.

She heads toward the guest room and immediately realizes what the cause was. She could see Milo’s paws appear every other second as he tried to dig his way out from under the door. Billie sighs as she opens the door to let him out before he rips up her carpet. He immediately runs into the hallway and looks both ways for you. Billie realizes quickly that you aren’t in there and she heads toward the laundry room. Milo follows, but she doesn’t let him in when she opens the door and sneaks inside.

She sees you fast asleep against the washer, and she sighs before turning to check on the kittens. They are fast asleep as well, but they look a lot more comfortable than you do. Billie reaches out for your shoulder to gently shake you awake.

“Y/N. You can’t sleep in here.”

You groan in annoyance as you’re awoken from your little nap. You see the kittens first and you realize where you fell asleep. Next, you turn to see Billie standing over you, and you smile slightly before shaking your head. You didn’t even hear what she’d said to you, but you find yourself responding nevertheless.

“I know, I know. I’m awake.”

Billie smiles at you before reaching her hand out to help you up. You grab it with a quiet ‘thanks’ before getting to your feet with another groan. You roll your eyes at the sound of Milo whining from outside, and you are quick to follow Billie out into the hall.

You reach out for your dog smiling as he licks your hand before he follows you and Billie back to your room.

“All done with work?”

Billie nods as you both make the short trip back to the guest room. You hesitate to go in because you really don’t like sleeping alone as much as you like sleeping with Billie. Not that you would be sleeping with her, you just wanted to be near her. You weren’t sure how to communicate this, but apparently just standing in the doorway and staring into the room wasn’t the best way.

“Is something wrong?”

Billie frowns as she watches you just stare blankly into the room that Milo has returned to. He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, but you’re not looking at him. Once you realize that you were just staring, you turn towards Billie with a smile before shaking your head.

“No. Nothing’s wrong, Billie. I-.”

You pause briefly as you think back to the weird vibe you’d been feeling since dinner. You consider just going to sleep in your own room, but your neediness outweighs your paranoia at the moment.

“I was just wondering if I could stay with you?”

Billie smiles before beginning to nod because she had been waiting for you to ask this. She didn’t like having you here for two nights but not sleeping near you for either. She didn’t want to push you though because you were recovering and she was sure that any sounds she made would have irritated you. Now that you were doing better, she had another reason to decline.

“Of course you can, Y/N, but I don’t know if you’ll want to. I have to wake up pretty early tomorrow.”

You frown in confusion until you remember that today is Tuesday, meaning that tomorrow is Wednesday. The day of Billie’s interview. You know that it’s not until 9 and you can’t imagine how early Billie has to wake up. Maybe 7? The earliest 6?

“For your interview, right? How early do you need to be up?”

Billie smiles before she gives you the time and watches as your mouth falls open in surprise. You’re quick to shut it though as you ask incredulously.

“5:00 am? That’s ridiculous. Why do you need to get up so early, Billie?”

Billie just laughs before she rolls her eyes and runs a hand through her hair.

“I have to get ready, Y/N. They need ample time to make me look tv ready.”

You snort at this before you start walking down the hall to Billie’s room. You walk slowly in case Billie really just doesn’t want company before shaking your head.

“Well, that shouldn’t take very long. Come on, Billie. Is that all you got? I can go back to sleep before watching your interview.”

This catches Billie’s attention and she stops in her tracks behind you before shaking her head. Not that you see her, but what she says next makes you stop short.

“You’re not going to watch tomorrow, are you Y/N?”

You turn around to face Billie, shooting her a confused look before you nod. You can’t think of a single reason why you wouldn’t watch Billie’s interview tomorrow. If you had the choice, you would be going to it, but that wasn’t an option. It hadn’t been brought up before your fall, and now there was no way you were getting an invitation.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I watch?”

Billie sighs before she walks past you toward her room. You follow her wondering what’s on her mind, not even noticing how Milo is following you both. Billie retreats into her room before she starts to undress. She pulls her sweatshirt over her head before she responds to you with a pointed look.

“Your concussion? You’re not supposed to be watching television.”

You obviously realize this, but decide to argue anyway because there was no way you weren’t watching Billie tomorrow.

“I know, but it’s only what? An hour? Also! I can just listen!”

You watch as Billie sighs in defeat before she just studies you for a minute. You don’t back down. You don’t even look away when Milo comes up to you and nudges your hand asking for scratches. You wait until Billie just rolls her eyes before giving in.

“Alright, Y/N.  I trust you to know your limits. I just hope you don’t get a migraine watching me fend off silly questions.”

You smile victoriously, but Billie doesn’t see it as she retreats to her closet. You don’t realize what she’s doing until she comes back with some clothes for you. You smile gratefully before you set them down on the bed so you can change. Milo follows you, reminding you that he’s in here and you go to kick him out.

“Milo, come on. You’re going to sleep downstairs.”

You are almost out the door when Billie speaks up, and Milo stops before you do before bounding back into the room and over to the medium.

“He can stay here. As long as he doesn’t bark in his sleep or anything.”

You watch as Milo greets Billie before moving to the foot of the bed. He looks at it for a moment like he wants to jump, but luckily he just lays down on the carpet with a yawn. You realize that you hadn’t answered Billie’s question, so you shake your head before offering a verbal response once you see that she’s not facing you.

“Uh, no. He won’t do that.”

Once you and Billie are ready for bed you follow her lead as you get under the covers and turn off the lamp beside you. You sit in silence for a moment waiting for Billie to get situated before speaking. You don’t want to stress Billie out, either of you really, but you want to make sure that you say this before Billie leaves tomorrow.

“Are you worried about tomorrow?”

Billie can’t see you since it’s dark, but she can picture the frown on your face as you ask this. She knows better than to lie to you because you’d been with her all day, and there was no way you’d fail to notice how much time she had spent preparing for tomorrow’s interview.

She eventually sighs before sitting up again and reaching for the light. She wants to be able to look at you when you have this conversation.

“I’m a little worried that they’ll try to make it more about the two of us, than the show.”

You squint slightly as the light flicks back on before nodding in agreement. You hate that you messed this up. The timing of everything couldn’t be worse for Billie’s interview and you’re feeling really guilty. This was supposed to be about promoting her show and giving everyone a chance to see how amazing the medium was. You weren’t biased at all, but you were going to be so angry if Billie doesn’t get the recognition she deserves tomorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

You say this before you can stop yourself and Billie frowns as she watches you cringe. She realizes it’s not because of a headache as you scramble to explain yourself.

“I just mean—I hope I didn’t mess anything up for you. You worked so hard for this and now no one will appreciate it because they’re--.”

You are cut off as Billie reaches for your shoulder before moving to push away some flyaway hair with a smile. You look to her in confusion because you’re not sure why she’s smiling, but she doesn’t let you wonder long.

“Y/N, you didn’t mess up anything. In fact, you showing up in my life has been one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.”

You feel your heart start pounding at Billie’s words and you open your mouth to say something, but you can’t. You’re speechless. Billie just smiles before she leans in to kiss you.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty about anything, okay? Tomorrow will be fine.”

You find yourself nodding in agreement before you’ve even decided that Billie’s right, but it doesn’t matter. You know she is, and you just have to trust that she knows what she’s talking about. She has been doing this much longer than you have.

“Okay, Billie.”

Billie smiles before she turns off her light again before getting settled. She waits until you lie down too before sighing and she’s smiling by the time you move closer to her.

“I wish I could get you to see how special you really are, Y/N,”

You don’t respond immediately, at least not with words, but you move closer so Billie can pull you into her. Once you’re close enough, you turn so your back is to her before scooting as close as possible with a sigh. You bite your lip so you don’t say what’s on the tip of your tongue. Instead you just thank Billie again by squeezing her hand where it rests on your stomach.

“You’re too good to me, Billie Dean.”

The woman behind you just scoffs in answer, and you chuckle under your breath as you close your eyes. It’s almost midnight, and despite the fact that you know you’ll be woken up in five short hours, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re convinced that you’ll wake up sleep-deprived every morning if you are able to spend every night like this in Billie’s arms.

Part 16

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so the official update deadline for me is now every Sunday before I sleep. This is the second part. If the formatting is off, I apologize. Also, if you want to read the first bit, the link’s at the bottom. And the third one. I know there’s a way to make it so that touching on underlined text or something links you to the link, but I dunno how to do that.

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter “was” named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, “Your daughter is alive,” is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

“Y/N?”

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry,” you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. “I uh, kinda zoned out.”

“It’s alright.” His posture is awfully stiff. “I just figured—ya know, since we’re going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit.”

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. “Sounds like a plan.” You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. “Oh, by the by, you’re the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little,” you shrug. “But, in your defense,” you smile playfully, “if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I’d be hesitant to get too friendly too.”

“Oh, it’s not that!” He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. “It’s just that you’re the first human I’ve ever met, and really the only person I’ve ever really talked to that isn’t one of my brothers or Splinter—”

A memory slaps you across the face. “Oh! Right!” You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. “I gotta tell you something really important.”

He went red. “W-what?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to tell you outright exactly what’s going to happen,” you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, “but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately.”

“I- huh?”

“Three or so episodes before the season three finale,” you repeat, “you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole.”

“Black hole?” He blinks. “So, in a few months, we—what?”

“Well, they call it a black hole, anyways.” You roll your eyes. “It’s pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I’d hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it’s a black hole.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing.” He smiles awkwardly. “You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue.”

“Well, yeah.” You smile back. “People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works.”

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. “Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?” You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. “If that’s the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We’d die with it, wouldn’t we?”

“See, you would think that.” You shrug, letting his hands fall between you two. “But the show is already playing fast and loose with science in general, so.”

“I am legitimately so confused right now.”

You sigh, patting him on the shoulder. “Me too, buddy.”

“I just—“

“Honey.” You stifle a giggle. “No combination of words will make any of this make any more sense than it already does.”

“I know, but—“

“Listen, if you ask me any more questions, we’ll start having to deal with more time travel bullshit then we’ll already have to.”

He sighs. “Okay, I’m dropping it.”

You nod, already feeling the sting of guilt. “But, hey,” you nudge with your shoulder teasingly, “if it makes you feel any better, you definitely got the most sugar than your brothers.”

He blinks. “What does that have anything to do with that?”

“Compensation? I dunno.” You pull your legs under you. “Just trying to make up for the fact that it’s really not a good idea for me to give out too much info about an uncertain future.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So,” Donatello asks gently, “if you don’t mind me asking, you said you died, right?”

You nod.

“So, uh, how did you…?”

“House fire.”

He blinks. “You… you remember—?”

“Yup.” You chuckle tightly. “Every excruciating detail.”

He tenses slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. Not your fault.” ‘My fault, actually.’

He rests his head on his hand. After a pause, “Do you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“You know, what happens after.”

You shake your head. “I blacked out and now I’m here. I’m guessing you don’t run into a ton of people like me.”

He cracks a smile. “I don’t really run into a ton of people period.”

You try to help lighten this stifling mod you have created. “Well, I’m glad your first introduction to humanity proper is through some psycho pseudo-Cassandra.”

“Less Cassandra and more just general prophet.” He grins. “If Raph believes you enough to go off the handle—well, I guess that’s just Raph in general.”

You chuckle. “Hey,” you whine teasingly, “lay off your brother. Obviously he’s a very levelheaded man.”

“Totally.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Cool as a cucumber, that guy.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?” You look around the noticeably empty living room.

“Sleeping, probably. I tend to stay up later than they do.”

“And why’s that, Bill Nye?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier to work when people aren’t asking for help with things.”

“That is very fair.” You close your eyes as you lean against the back of the couch. “I must say, I’m not envious of your position.”

You hear him shift closer. “Why’s that?”

“If you don’t already, you’re probably—at least, from what I’ve seen,” you clarify. “Well, it seems like, sometimes, you have the world on your shoulders. It can’t be a good feeling.”

A pause. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

You stretch upwards. “But” you continue, moaning softly as you feel your muscles crack, “if it makes you feel any better, I have—or at least had— access to the internet. I will gladly explain google.”

He clears his throat. “The internet search engine or the number?”

You grin. “Either or, although I would most certainly lose track if my zeros halfway through at best.”

He laughs. “It took me so long to figure out how to say it,” he sighs, “The trick is to just say zero for a long time and eventually just kinda zone out. You can really just stop after fifty and people won’t notice.”

“See,” you open your eyes, wrapping an arm around his shoulder—he certainly stiffened up quick— “that is why I like you, Donnie. You always know the score.”

He relaxes quickly. His speech is slurred a little. “You like me?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Your voice is noticeably lighter than it was before, more relaxed. “You are totally awesome, if you’ll pardon my candor.”

“N-not at all!” He smiled bashfully. “I’m flattered, really. I just—I’m surprised is all. I didn’t think you’d—uh—_like_ someone like me.”

“What? Why?” You are, apparently, extremely dense. “You’re the coolest guy ever!”

“Well, I’m not really a guy.”

“Wait, is this the whole turtle thing again?” You roll your eyes, leaning into him as you close them. “Dude, legitimately? I don’t care.”

His voice softened. “You what?”

“I don’t care. You’re smart, reliable, funny… I mean, what isn’t there to appreciate?” ‘I didn’t expect him to feel warm.’ “If I’m being honest,” you shrug in an attempt to stay casual, “and, if you promise not to give me shit—”

“I won’t,” he promises, almost eagerly.

You smile. “I will admit that I had a thing for you, along with many other people where I’m from. Fictional crush, you know.”

“You’re joking,” he challenges.

“Scout’s honor.” You raise your right hand, already starting to zone out. ‘Really warm…’

“You’re serious?”

You hum in confirmation. “I don’t…” You yawn, the weight of the incredible stress admittedly starting to take its toll. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable after what I just said,” you mumble, curling into him, admittedly not in your right mind, “but do you mind staying here until I fall asleep? Sup… surprisingly enough, you are ridiculously warm and comfortable and warm.”

He tenses up a little, but slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do.” His voice is gentle, soft.

“I owe you cupcakes.” You nod off.

--

You could tell you boosted his confidence if only a little bit. He stood taller the next night; admittedly, you feel a sense of pride at his pride. At least, it makes up for the verbal abuse from his brothers when they find you asleep together.

As you walk down the street that next night with Donnie shadowing you, you consider the pros and cons of revealing more about what you know; although there were certainly more items for pro, the chaos theory was sort of a big deal, and, knowing the reputation of this franchise and its post-apocalyptic bullshit, the last thing you need is to tempt fate. Still, something about this felt wrong, like not telling someone to get out of the way of a moving car. ‘Wish I were Cassandra,’ you think bitterly. ‘At least I wouldn’t feel bad.’

You stop in front of the offending building. ‘Finally.’ You look around for your chaperone and, after not seeing him— ‘Fucking ninjas, man.’—sigh and give in. “Good night,” you said to the open air.

You look back at the door, startled to see someone looking back at you. ‘You are fucking with me right now.’ You wave awkwardly as the man holds the door open for you. You step inside the building, making a beeline for the elevator. ‘A doorman? Really?’ The lobby was entirely too hotelish for your liking, the warm lighting bouncing off the smooth tile cleanly. ‘How much is this place, anyways? It’s fucking New York.’ You press one of the buttons. ‘If I’m the one paying rent, I am royally fucked.’

Somehow, via some sort of divine intervention, you find the apartment. You take the key out of your pocket— ‘Note to self: scavenge up enough money for a keychain.’—and stepped inside.

The apartment made you do a double take. It is so… familiar. Nicer than usual, more polished, yet somehow exactly how you’ would have used the space. The floors are hardwood, the walls painted a relatively neutral color that is easy on the eyes. As soon as you enter, you see the kitchen to your left; small, but considering it is only you, it would be perfect. To your left, down a short hall, is a bathroom—bright white surfaces with black countertops. And in the only other room in the apartment, in front of you, is a bed, a couch, some chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a closet, a television, and a coffee table with a phone and an envelope on it.

You walk over to a large window overlooking the street, shutting it and sitting down on the couch. You pick up the letter first, carefully breaking its seal and pulling out a note and a card. Your heart leaps as you see your name in white lettering. ‘Well, having a credit card doesn’t sound too bad.’ You place it back onto the table as you start reading.

“Dear Y/N L/N:

We understand that the transition between your previous life and this one may be difficult, and we at The TIS are more than happy to provide for you and your needs during this transition period. Your questions are likely numerous. That is the purpose of this document, to address any concerns you may have.

Finances/Personal Belongings: The most noted concern of those just beginning in our program is to do with housing. We understand that it is incredibly important to the mental health of our members to have relatively stable housing, especially considering the strange, new environment they have been thrown into. Your residence is paid for by the TIS. All necessary emergency services (repair costs of any sort, medical bills, phone bills, etc.) and any utilities that may be included in said residence are also covered by this plan. In addition, your TIS assigned debit card will receive a daily balance of $300 (balance will change with inflation), which can be used at your discretion. Your residence has been pre-furnished to what our experts believe to be your taste, and your refrigerator and cupboards are filled with a variety of raw food items. Silverware, crockery and cookware has also been included. You have also been provided with various detergents and whatever hygiene products you used before your transition. These things will be replenished biweekly unless, for whatever reason, you start using different food/hygiene products. In this event, your inventory will be adjusted accordingly.

You are currently in position of one (1) weeks’ worth of clothing, including any undergarments applicable, which includes 7 pairs of pants and 7 shirts taken from your wardrobe, along with any clothing you are currently wearing.

Cell Phone: Your TIS assigned cell phone is, practically speaking, identical to your previous device. Any streaming services you were previously subscribed to, along with any you may decide to subscribe to, are covered by the TIS. Your login information is included with your banking/personal information, all of which is included in this envelope. If you wish to upgrade your phone as the years go by, or if you wish to purchase a second device, these log ins will still be available to you, although you will be required to purchase any additional software/electronics through our website: www.TISShop.org/FU. A charging cord and block are located by your bed. We recommend purchasing a case for your device.

Please note that all websites/services/apps previously available to you are also available via TIS approved electronic devices.

Employment: Employment has not been taken the TIS. We do not offer employment, although minors have been provided with a permit in the event that you chose to enter the workforce. If you choose to enter the workforce, aid will continue to be provided.

Enrollment: All minors are required by the TIS to enroll in their local school. Any documents required are provided in this envelope. If you are currently attending a college/university, or are thinking of enrolling/reenrolling, any credits you have accumulated will be transferred to whatever college/university you choose to attend. If you are currently a minor considering attending college, your funds will be provided by the TIS if applicable.

Identification: Any websites/services/products that are age restricted will be available to you, regardless of age.

Death: We at the TIS assure you that unnatural death, in your current situation, is not a matter that you need concern yourself with. While it is certainly possible to die, it is extremely unlikely, and we have the policy in place in the event of your death.

We at the TIS are aware of your awareness of the place you are now in. We wish to stress the importance consuming any media associated with the world in which you find yourself. If you gain nothing from this letter, please remember that we at the TIS are here for you, if only indirectly.

We wish you luck.”

The letter ends there. You check the envelope to see the other documents listed.

You stand up, picking up your new phone and laying down on the bed. You are left reeling from the little information you have been given. ‘So I was brought here. Well,’ you sigh, closing your eyes, ‘I guess I already knew that, but…’

You start scrolling through your device. Everything is still there, except for your contacts. You try to call what numbers you had memorized; they are apparently invalid.

You curl into a fetal position, clutching onto your jacket. “Well,” you mumble to yourself almost bitterly, “at least I know I won’t starve to death.” You decide against even turning the lights off as you hug yourself tightly. “This,” you decide, “is going to majorly suck.”

You nod off, already dreaming of smoke.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[fidothefinch]

he will tear you with his tongue

For Dick & Dami Week 2021, day 1: "Did you really mean that?"

Dick didn’t think. The goon was adjusting his grip on Damian’s knife, aiming the blade down his neck. The man wanted revenge, and on such short notice Dick only saw one option.

Pretend he didn’t care.

(Full fic under the cut, or read on Ao3)

Dick tapped the glass of his window casually, watching the familiar buildings of Gotham speed past his view.

“TT.”

Dick angled his body toward Damian. The kid was staring resolutely at the back of the seat in front of him, obviously still pouting over losing this particular argument before they had left the penthouse. “It’s just a few hours.”

“Hours I could have spent training. Or studying. Or watching paint dry.”

Dick fought back the quirk of his lips, knowing it would only send Damian into a darker mood. “Was that a joke?”

“I assure you, it was not.” Damian glowered.

“Think of it as training,” Dick offered. “Undercover work. We have to keep up appearances, so people don’t suspect us.”

“TT.” Damian shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His hands fisted the material of the opposite sleeves.

“Be careful not to crease your suit, Master Damian,” Alfred piped in from the front, the first words he had spoken since they had embarked on their journey into the city. “I will not have time to correct it before they begin filming.”

Damian released his sleeves like he had burned them, his fingers almost imperceptibly smoothing out the small wrinkles that had formed. He still sat with his back ramrod straight, but that was nothing uncommon for the uptight kid.

Still.

“Is there something you’re worried about?” Dick asked. “It should be perfectly safe—”

“I am not worried,” Damian growled. “I am annoyed that I am being forced to waste my time being interviewed on daytime television.”

“The morning news isn’t—”

“And I am not looking forward to putting on an act of stupidity like the rest of you.”

Okay, so that stung a little. Dick bit his tongue to control his instinctual comeback. Instead he analyzed what lay underneath the statement. “So you’re afraid you’ll look stupid.”

“It would be impossible not to, with you.”

Alfred let a sharp “Master Damian,” ring across the car, and to the butler’s credit, Damian’s face twitched.

“You cannot deny it,” Damian pressed. “I am doomed to adopt the act that my predecessors have started, and I must accept the fact I will be nakedly mocked on live television and in the drivel that they call news for the rest of the year.”

“Hey,” Dick said, trying to get his attention. When Damian looked up, there was a flicker of emotion behind his eyes before he blocked it off again. They were still working on that. “Who cares what the gossip says? The people that matter know who you really are.”

For a second, Dick thought the words may sink in, that Damian would answer like a normal human with empathy. “Is that what father told you before he kicked you out?”

“Damian—”

“Master Richard.”

Something in the butler’s voice immediately caught both of their attention.

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked, leaning forward to look over the dashboard. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the vehicle.

“It appears that we are being followed.”

Even as Alfred said it, Dick’s eyes caught on a set of headlights in the rearview mirror, tailing a little too closely to be comfortable. A matching black van followed them on their left, and when Dick looked forward, there was another one—no license plate— several cars ahead and to their right. “More like we’re being herded,” he muttered.

“I told you we should have brought our weapons,” Damian said. “I could kill the driver behind us within—”

“We’re not killing anybody.” The phrase had grown so familiar he didn’t even blink at it. “I’ll go ahead and call the police. Alfred, try to stay on the busier streets. They won’t try anything where there are so many witnesses.” At least, he hoped they wouldn’t. It really depended on who was in the vans.

Alfred nodded, changed his turn signal, and merged seamlessly into the middle lane.

The van behind them nosed in immediately after, cutting off the driver who had let them over.

Dick dug through his pockets until he found his phone and got to work dialing the police. But the device flew from his hands when, a moment later, the car lurched.

“They hit us,” Alfred explained. “I do not believe they are trying to be subtle, anymore.”

Clearly, whoever it was, they weren’t afraid of making a scene. Time to change tactics. “Think you can shake them?”

“I will try. Please buckle your seatbelt.”

Dick nodded, ducking to retrieve his phone before scrambling back into his seat. The screen was cracked from the force with which he had dropped it.

“Master Damian, you must wear your seatbelt, too.”

Dick shifted his attention away from his broken (non-functioning) phone to see Damian, kneeling backwards on the bench to glare out the rear windshield. “Damian, sit down.”

“I am sitting,” the kid replied, his eyes never leaving the van behind them. “The man has a prison tattoo on his left bicep and a shamrock tattoo on his neck. Are you familiar with him?”

“Turn around and put your ass. . . actually.” Dick twisted in his seat to get a look. (And released his seatbelt so he could look more clearly.) “Yeah, that’s Korban Branthwaite. He was part of a crew responsible for a string of bank robberies a while ago. He just got out on parole last month.”

“I could easily leap from our vehicle to his and demand an explanation.”

“You’re not doing that. I’m not letting you do that. Seriously, Damian. Put your seatbelt on before—” Dick’s next words were cut off by Alfred’s shout. He had just enough time to grab Damian before the van barreling toward them slammed into the side of their car.

Dick pulled Damian in close to his body, twisting around the smaller boy to protect him from the worse of the impact as the world around them erupted into chaos. The windows shattered inward, the door crumpling in like a crushed tin can. Their vehicle screeched and whined, snapping side to side hard enough to give Dick whiplash as the wheels fought to regain traction. The view outside spun across the windows, road-cars-trees-dirt blurring into an incomprehensible mess.

Dick shut his eyes and held on tighter, his stomach swooping like it did on the trapeze.

After what felt like an eternity, the motion stopped.

He waited until he was sure, until the rocking of the car stilled and the only noise was of the traffic passing outside. Only then did Dick loosen his fingers, let his eyes stray down to the quiet face tucked under his chin. “Are you okay?” he asked, the slight waver inn his voice giving away his worry.

“Tt.” Damian pushed against Dick’s chest, propelling himself backward. “I am fine.”

Uh-huh.

Dick looked him over and was relieved to find nothing worse than a few scratches and bruises from the broken glass. Damian had already shifted his attention outside, where the van that had hit them rested several yards away. He smacked Dick’s hand away when he tried to brush broken glass out of his hair. “I do not believe they were trying to kill us.”

Dick pressed his lips together. “No.” Then, panic hit him with more clarity. “Alfred!”

“I am alright, Master Richard.”

Dick pushed to the front seat, knowing that he lived with a family of liars who would prefer to bleed out than admit they had an injury. Alfred was pinned back by his seatbelt, and a quick scan revealed a bleeding nose and broken arm. “We’ll get Leslie to set that,” Dick promised him.

“They’re coming,” Damian said, voice serious.

“Who?”

“Your thieves.”

Dick stooped to look out the windshield, and, sure enough, another of the black vans had pulled up, blocking their view of the road beyond. Four men trotted down the small incline toward their car. “Shit.”

“You are sure we cannot kill them?”

Dick didn’t get the chance to respond. The men reached their car and forced the good doors open hard enough to shake it again.

“Get out,” one of the men barked. He was a big guy, with a handlebar mustache and a matching shamrock tattoo, but on his arm.

“No,” Damian sneered.

Two of the men flanking the big one pulled out guns. Dick reacted on instinct, backing up and spreading his arms to block their view of Damian. He couldn’t let the kid get shot.

“I won’t tell you again,” the man threatened.

“Look, I’ll come.” Dick held up his hands non-threateningly. “Leave the kid here. He doesn’t know anything.”

The man looked him up and down with a predatory gaze that made Dick shiver. Finally, he gave a curt nod. “Grab him.”

The two men flanking him lowered their weapons in favor of reaching inside, grabbing each of Dick’s arms and hauling him out. When Dick’s feet found the grass, they wasted no time fastening zipties around his wrists and a blindfold over his eyes.

Dick breathed deeply to control his fear reaction as they shoved him blindly forward.

“Let go of me!”

“Damian?” Dick dug his heels in, stopping their progress. “You said—”

“Shut up before I decide to bring the old man, too.”

Dick pressed his tongue into the roof of his mouth as hard as he could. Alfred needed to be looked at by a medical professional; it would do him no good being dragged into this. But Damian was untested, as far as civilian kidnappings went.

If this was a kidnapping.

They frog-marched Dick to what he assumed was the van before tossing him inside. He landed hard on his stomach, his face rubbing against rough, crusty carpet. The smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and stale sweat assaulted his nose.

“Where are you taking us?” he asked.

A warm, bony body landed on top of his, letting out a muffled snarl of displeasure. So they had gagged Damian. That was probably a good thing.

“That’s none of your concern,” the lead man replied.

The van rocked as the rest of the men filed in. Doors rolled shut around them, the engine rumbled to life, and the car swayed as it pulled back up onto the road.

“Search his pockets.”

“Wait.” Before hands could begin roaming all over his body (a thought that made his skin crawl), Dick offered, “My wallet’s in the left breast pocket of my jacket.”

A big hand slipped into his jacket and retrieved it easily.

“Phone?”

Dick internally cringed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t have it.”

“Search him.”

Dick couldn’t see the touches coming; he couldn’t help but flinch away from each brush of contact. “I don’t have it. I lost it in the wreck.”

There was a muffled growl from next to him. God, they were searching Damian, too.

“Found one on the kid.”

“Give it to me,” the leader commanded. A moment later, “Give me his thumb. I need access.”

The smaller body next to Dick suddenly jolted away. The movement was accompanied by deep gasps and shuffling feet.

“Fuck. The kid has a knife!”

If it were any other situation, Dick would roll his eyes. As it was, he silently thanked the heavens that Damian had managed not to lethally stab anybody yet. He reached around blindly, trying to find him.

“Well, take it away from him!”

“You do it!”

A growl. “Pathetic. You’re scared of a little boy.”

A muffled yelp.

“No! Wait!” Unable to find his brother, Dick scooted toward the sound of something dragging across the carpet. “Stop!”

He finally reached Damian’s side, only for a white-hot slash of pain to slice down his arm. He couldn’t help his grunt in reaction.

The sound of the knife falling to the floor was muffled by the carpet, but unmistakable. Dick couldn’t see, but he was positive that it was immediately retrieved by one of the goons.

Sure enough, the leader laughed, somewhere above Dick’s head. “Did daddy teach the little brat some self-defense?”

“Leave him alone,” Dick growled. He found Damian’s shirt and clung to it.

“Oh?” Hot breath fanned across Dick’s face, much too close to be comfortable. “Feeling a little. . .  protective?”

Dick’s heart jumped in his chest.

Something in his face must have showed it, because the goons around him laughed. “We must have gotten the right one, then. Norman will be pleased.”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. “Listen, I can get you money—”

“That’s not why we’re here,” the leader said.

“Then what do you want?”

The leader’s mouth curled into a cruel grin. “You’ll see.”

A rag was closed over his lower face, the sharp stench of chloroform following. Dick thrashed his head, but between the blindfold and his bound hands he had no (reasonable) defense.

Between one breath and the next, he fell asleep.

-

“Take off his blindfold.”

Dick blinked, more for the release of pressure on his eyes than for the light, which was dim inside the small, windowless room. He was still groggy, his head pounded from the last dredges of chloroform, and his shoulders already ached from behind tied around the back of his chair, but his attention was immediately caught by his surroundings.

Four men stared down at him threateningly. One of them had his arms wrapped around Damian, who was also tied to a chair, still blindfolded and gagged.

More threatening was the knife poised over Damian’s face.

Dick’s heart hammered at the sight. “I won’t fight you. You don’t have to hurt him.”

“Ah, but we do,” called a new voice, from behind.

Dick tried to twist, but he had to wait until the man chose to step into his sightline. He had dark hair and a rat-like face: small eyes, yellow teeth, and a sparse moustache. The smirk he gave Dick held a mix of resentment and triumphant possessiveness.

“I’ve got money,” Dick tried, even remembering how the offer had gone last time. “I just need to make a phone call.”

The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That will not work. You see,” he offered, removing his tobacco-stained fingers from his pockets. “This has been a long-time coming. I could get money, but you’re rich, so what would that really teach you?”

This was personal. This was bad.

The man took a step forward, leaning into Dick’s personal space. “I could get sex.” Dick flinched. “But I bet you would enjoy that.”

A sick feeling rose in Dick’s stomach at the insinuation.

“I want to give you a pain that will last,” the man finished, eyes trailing over to Damian.

The goon that was holding his brother down had moved his arm around Damian’s neck, forcing his chin up and back. It would take almost nothing to break his neck.

Dick forced himself to shove aside his panic and think. This was personal; the man wanted to cause pain. He needed to keep the man’s attention off Damian until help could arrive. “Who are you?” Dick asked.

The rat-faced man turned to him with bared teeth. “My name is Norman Darth, and you’re the reason my wife left me.”

Dick blinked a few times, stalling while he racked his brain for why the name was familiar. Norman’s face grew darker as he waited for some kind of reaction. It was that look that reminded Dick where he had seen him before: caught for embezzling charity money, back during Dick’s BPD days.

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” he said, trying to sound sincere but firm. “You don’t have to do this.”

Norman sneered. “You don’t get it! I loved her!” He snapped his fingers, and the goons around him straightened their posture. “It’s your fault I lost the person I loved. Now it’s going to be my fault you lose yours.”

Dick didn’t think. The goon was adjusting his grip on Damian’s knife, aiming the blade down his neck. The man wanted revenge, and on such short notice Dick only saw one option.

Pretend he didn’t care.

“So, what? You’re going to threaten me with him?”

The goon frowned, and the knife pressed in, just enough to draw a drop of blood. “Don’t test me,” he warned.

“Shut up,” Norman barked. “Just kill him. Make it slow.”

Dick laughed. Damian startled at the sound, and it made it nearly impossible for Dick to keep the tremble out of his own voice. “Go ahead, do your worst. See if I care.”

The goon’s hand hesitated, not pushing any deeper into Damian’s neck. After a moment, Norman held up a hand to call him off. “You’re bluffing,” he said, almost phrasing it like a question.

Bingo.

Dick scoffed. “That would be stupid.”

“He cared about him in the van,” the big man, the one Dick had thought had been the leader, said. “Got real protective.”

Norman pursed his lips, considering Dick coldly. “Cut him,” he said, instead. “Nowhere lethal, yet.”

The man holding Damian dropped the blade to Damian’s bound arm and pierced Damian’s jacket and shirt. Norman didn’t even look back, instead raising an eyebrow at Dick’s non-reaction to the knife running down Damian’s arm like it were warm butter. Not too deep, but deep enough it definitely hurt. Maybe even deep enough to scar.

Damian managed not to make a sound, a fact that didn’t comfort Dick. What he could see of the kid’s face and body was clenched tight, trying to stay still so as not to disturb the weapon trailing along his body.

“Threatening him won’t get you what you want,” Dick promised. He didn’t know how he kept his tone so even. “He’s not worth that much.”

The man suddenly twisted the blade, opening the wound in Damian’s upper arm further. Damian yelped this time, the sound muffled by the duct tape over his mouth.

Dick managed not to flinch.

“Damn, you really don’t care about him, do you?” One of the other goons in the room asked. “Is that what money does to you?”

“He’s not my kid,” Dick said, shrugging. The words already tasted bitter in his mouth. “I’m just stuck with him.”

Damian sucked in a sharp breath. It had nothing to do with the man removing the knife and everything to do with Dick’s words.

Dick had to look away. “I only watch him because Bruce asked me to.”

A pregnant pause followed the words.

“I don’t believe you,” Norman said. He was not convincing.

Dick made eye contact, pointedly ignoring the small hands, clenched into tight fists across from him. “If I knew where his mom was,” he said, feeling his chest tighten at the words, “I’d send him back.”

Norman studied his face, his expression a deep frown of disgust. “You’re a terrible father,” he spat.

“I’m not—” Dick started, ready to continue the ruse for as long as it took to keep the attention off Damian. But he was cut off when the wall next to them fell away, nearly crushing two of the goons underneath.

Spoiler stepped through the door. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic was terrible.”

Black Bat followed her into the room, her silence speaking for itself.

-

Damian was suspiciously quiet for the entire ride back to the Cave. Dick tried to get him to let him take a look at his arm, which was still bleeding under the field dressings that Cass had applied, but Damian had brushed away his attempts with a curt “Pennyworth will take care of it.”

Okay, so the kid was being a little more moody than usual. Understandable, since he had spent the last several hours immobile, blind, and silenced. Dick didn’t push it.

But when the behavior continued into the next day, and then the day following that, he grew worried. Damian was avoiding him, for some reason. He spent his time tucked away in his own room, and he didn’t engage in conversation over dinner. Damian had always been. . . prickly, but Dick had thought they were making progress. This was something new.

They needed to talk.

Dick finally got his chance when he found Damian on the manor’s lawns, walking Titus. Dick fell into step eagerly. “Hey, Damian.”

“Tt.” Damian didn’t even look over at him. He didn’t actively try to get away, though, either, and Dick took that as an invitation.

“Nice weather, huh?”

“It is raining.”

“I know.” Dick brushed his wet hair back. “It’s nice.”

“Tt.”

They walked in silence for several minutes, and it drove Dick crazy that he couldn’t read whether it was companionable or awkward. When Titus found a spot to squat, Dick seized the opportunity. “I think we need to talk.”

“Were we not talking earlier?”

“No, something’s up.” Dick studied Damian’s impassive face. “Is something bothering you?”

“No,” was Damian’s immediate reply. But Dick had learned Damian’s tells, and he caught the way the boy’s hands flexed.

“Are you sure?” Dick prompted, gently. “You can tell me if something’s wrong. I won’t be mad.”

Damian stared at the ground, letting the hood of his rain jacket obscure his expression for him. “You do not have to pretend with me, any longer,” he declared.

Dick bit his tongue, tasting the words. “Pretend?”

“I am here only for training,” Damian continued. “You are not obligated to be involved in my life otherwise.”

“Obligated?” Dick asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Damian finally looked up at him, and he wore a stony expression. “You confessed your feelings towards me to Darth,” he said. “Did you really mean that?”

All of the blood fell out of Dick’s face. He felt nauseous again, like he had been freshly chloroformed. “No.”

Damian looked away again, his shoulders tight. “Okay.”

“No, Damian.” Dick grabbed his shoulders to spin him around. “I know we don’t always get along, but I care about you.”

To his surprise, Damian’s eyes were shining. “You would not send me back to mother, if you had the chance?”

Dick pulled Damian in for a hug, holding him tight and tucking head under his chin. “Never,” he said, squeezing harder in hopes it would press the words into Damian’s psyche. “You’re too important to me.”

Damian didn’t pull away.

In fact, Damian leaned into the hug, maybe for the first time ever.

“I love you,” Dick repeated.

“Tt.”

Dick smiled, understanding what went unsaid.

[word-scribbless]

Smile Again Part 7

Aaron hotchnerx female reader

Masterlist | series masterlist

They finally kissed last chapter! Now what?

——————

Y/N was awoken the next morning from a very sweet and slightly steamy dream about a certain G-Man by her phone ringing with a call from JJ.

“Tell me you kissed!” JJ greeted as soon as Y/N picked up.

“Hello to you too Jayje” she laughed, blushing a little at her cousin’s question.

“What’s the news!?”

“Aren’t you hung over? Why are you so loud?” Y/N teased.

“Ugh answer me dammit!”

“We kissed” Y/N squeaked out.

“YESSSSSS” Jj yelled so loud Y/N had to move the phone away from her ear. “Ow that hurt! I guess I am hung over.”

“Aw poor baby I should let you go then” Y/N joked .

“Don’t you dare hang up that phone before you tell me what happened!”

“Your boss is an incredibly good kisser.” Y/N joked

“Ew when you put it that way it’s weird!” Jj laughed

“Oh okay I won’t tell you about it then.” She joked

“STOP IT!” Jj whined “who kissed who!” Her cousin asked, suddenly sounding further away and Y/N knew she was most likely talking to bother JJ and Will now.

“He kissed me” Y/N said

“I knew it!” She heard Jj shriek.

“But I told him to” Y/N admitted

“Ha” she heard Will yell while she heard JJ say “dammit”

“Okay Stop betting about my love life and take me off speaker phone now please!” Y/n said with a chuckle.

“Okay done” JJ said

“Jayje I really like him.” She admitted shyly.

“Well I’ve never known you to kiss people you didn’t like!” JJ joked and continued when y/n laughed. “I’m really glad you let him in Y/N/N”

“I’m still a little scared, but I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of being with him.”

“Eeeeee” Jj squealed before groaning about her head again.

The rest of the call was spent talking about their night after they had parted, and their plans for a girls day that Sunday.

Later that afternoon, Hotch was standing on the sidelines at Jack’s soccer practice getting grilled by none other than Dave Rossi in much the same way Y/N was by JJ.

“So you drove her home?” Dave asked.

“I did” Hotch answered before directing one of the players on kicking.

“They know how to kick Aaron stop stalling!” Rossi said turning to face him.

“ What do you want me to say?” Aaron asked, not looking away from the field.

“Have you kissed her yet?” Dave asked and watched as Aaron looked at him and then away with a telling smirk.

“Attaboy Aaron” he said patting him on the back before turning back to the game.

Aaron could barely focus on the rest of the game as he thought about his upcoming night with y/n and his son.

That night Y/N showed up to the Hotchner house as usual. They settled in and snuggled up a little closer than they had before. They were each on either side of jack again, but this time Aaron’s arm was over the back of the chair and Y/N and Jack were both tucked up under his arm. Jack didn’t seem to notice the change, and if he did, he didn’t seem to mind too much.

At the end of the movie, Jack and Y/N got up and were dancing around the room to the music that played with the credits. They pulled Aaron up with him and he quickly spun them both around in a silly dance move. Y/N was laughing and smiling so hard her face hurt. She scooped up Jack who giggled and said

“See Y/N, I told you that my daddy would be one of the people who made you smile again.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and blush a bit. “You sure did buddy, and you were right. Your daddy hasn’t stopped making me smile since I met him.” She said with a smile to a slightly flushed Aaron before tickling Jack’s sides “and neither have you mister!” Jack giggled and wiggled around in Y/N’s arms and Aaron joined in the tickle fight that lead to a full tickle battle.

When the tickle battle settled down Jack curled up into y/N’s side on the couch.

“You make my daddy smile a lot too! Even if he’s just talking about you.” Jack whispered, still loud enough for his father to hear.

She looked up to see Aaron with a small blush and a wide smile.

After a few more minutes of cuddles y/N and Aaron walked a sleepy jack back to his bed room to tuck him in. They each read him a story and kissed him goodnight. Before he fell asleep he triple checked that Y/N was going to come watch his soccer game in the morning, a plan they had made a few days before on the phone. After Jack was sound asleep the adults went back out the the living room.

Aaron poured them each a glass of wine and Y/N found them a TV movie to watch, this had become a habit after the first time. Aaron came to sit next to her, placing their glasses on the coffee table and taking her hands.

“He’s right you know, I smile a lot more since I met you” he admired with a smile.

“Does it scare the team?” She joked

“Only Dave and jj have caught me so far.” He laughed “well at least they’re the only two brave enough to call me out on it.

“Has Dave asked about us?” She asked curiously.

“Only every day” he huffed playfully

“Is he pro Y/N and Aaron or con?”she asked as she picked up her wine.

“You’re kidding right?“ he turned to look at her again.

“What?”

Aaron laughed and admitted “He’s been trying to get me to make a move since the day we met.”

“I have the best friend approval.” She cheered softly

“Yup” Aaron’s said and he leaned over to kiss her head

“And the son approval it would seem.” She continued

“Oh yeah, no doubt there!” He laughed

“Good.” She smiled before curling up into his side to watch the movie.

After a few minutes her head popped back up, “since I have everyone’s approval does that mean you can be my work out buddy like promised!” She asked

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask, join me on my run Wednesday? I have an early day Monday so I’m skipping” he smiled

“Wednesday is perfect” she smiled and kissed his cheek before snuggling in Closer.

Y/N must have had a long week because with in 15 minutes of snuggling up to Aaron, he heard her softly snoring against him. He smiled and relaxed next to her, falling asleep not long after.

A few hours later Aaron woke up confused, quickly smiling as he realized where he was and who was snuggled up next to him.

“Hey sweetheart.” He whispered as he shook Y/N softly.

“Hey,” she said groggily as she woke up. “what time is it?”

“About midnight, I fell asleep too. I was hoping you’d let me talk you into staying here, I don’t want you to have to drive this late.”

Y/N Nodded, smiling at his thoughtfulness “yeah, you have an extra comfy couch, I’ll get my go bag from my car.”

Aaron raised his Eye brow at the mention of a go bag.

“I started to carry one since I never know when jj will need me to take the boys” she explained.

“Smart, I’ll got get it.” He said as he took her keys to retrieve her bag.

When he came back in with her bag, she went to change. She came back to Aaron making up a bed on the couch.

“Thank you handsome, this looks so cozy.” Y/N said coming up behind Aaron and hugging his waist from behind.

“Mm-mm this is for me, you take the bed.” Aaron argued, turning around to hug her back.

“No way!”

“Yes way” he smirked “what kind of gentleman would I be to have you sleep on the couch?”

“The one with a son who would be rather confused if he woke up with a nightmare to find me in his fathers bed instead of him.” She said smiling.

“He’d be fine.” Aaron assures.

“I really don’t want to take your bed Aaron, you take your bed and I’ll be cozy out here. maybe I could borrow a sweatshirt though? I forgot mine? If I get scared I’ll know where to find you.” She smiled.

“Good” he kissed her head. “I’ll grab you a sweatshirt. And Y/NI’m serious about that though, if you need me come get me okay?” He asked as he pulled her close.

“I will, it’s nice to have you so close” she smiled, “I could get used to it.”

“Me too” Hotch whispered as he kissed her head.

“Good night Aaron, I really really like you” Y/N said as she pulled him in.

“I really really like you Y/N, good night sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed her sweetly.

Aaron brought her a sweatshirt that she slipped on. She snuggled up with a happy smile and fell asleep wrapped in the scent of the man she was quickly falling in love with.

Y/N was not a stranger to nightmares, neither was Aaron. That why when he heard her sniffle in his doorway at about 2 in the morning he knew exactly what was wrong.

“Nightmare?” He asked

She nodded and shuffled closer to his bed.

He scooted over and lifted the covers before she climbed in.

She snuggled in close to him and took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around her. She opened her mouth to apologize, tell him she felt stupid for running to him like a child, tell him he deserved better. Then she thought about what he’d say, that he wanted to be there for her, he cared, he wanted her. So instead of saying she was sorry she turned towards him to and wrapped her arms around his wait, settling her head on his chest before looking into his eyes and whispering “Thank you Aaron”

“Always Y/N” he answered and kissed her softly before they both fell into a more peaceful sleep than either had in a while.

She woke up early the next morning to Jack poking at her face.

“Daddy said to wake you up for breakfast!” Jack whispered, very close to her face.

“I didn’t tell you to poke her in the face bud.” You heard Aaron chuckle from the hall.

“That’s okay, I’ll get him back” she laughed as she lunged forward to scoop him up and tickle him.

“DADDDDDY! Helpppp!” He squealed

“You need help?” Aaron asked sarcastically as he came over and started tickling them both.

“Is this helping?” He joked

“Nooooooo” Jack giggled

“STOPPPP” y/n squealed

“Okay okay lets go eat breakfast goofballs” Aaron smiles rolling over and taking jack with him.

“Mmm that sounds good but firstttt...” she leaned over and whispered into Jacks ear.

“What are you two up to?” Aaron asked laughing.

“GET HIM” Y/N yelled as they both lunged at Aaron tickling his sides as his laugh bellowed through the room.

“Heyyy! Okay okay! Breakfast is getting cold!” He giggled as he pulled away from them and kissed both their heads.

He smiled as he watched Y/N scoop up Jack and carrying him to the kitchen laughing. Oh yeah, he could get used to living like this. To be honest he already is used to it, he was officially in love with this woman. He knew they had to go slow but he couldn’t help how he felt.

The three of them ate breakfast together, laughing and talking about Jack’s upcoming soccer game.

At the game, Y/N stood on the sidelines cheering and routing Jack on as Aaron and Rossi coached The team to victory.

“You’ve got yourself a keeper there Aaron.” Dave said looking over at Y/N cheering loudly.

“I don’t have her, not yet at least... but you’re right, she’s definitely a keeper.”

“Do you see that girl?” Rossi asked.

Aaron smirked “can’t stop looking.”

Dave laughed “it might not be official Aaron, but you definitely have her... and she has you.” He said before walking away to help the team parents to set up snacks. Aaron couldn’t help but think about what he said, he did have her didn’t he? God he loved that thought.

Y/N went over to the snack table to help Dave and Aaron while the kids all rehydrated and celebrated their win.

“Hey great job today coaches!” She smiled as she gave Dave a hug.

“Hey tesoro” Dave said “glad to see you.”

“You too Dave”

“Hey you” Aaron said as he walked over to her, followed by a blond who didn’t look too happy when he hugged Y/N.

“Hey Aaron, great job today.” She said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks, Jack was playing extra great for you.” He smiled before they heard the blonde lady clear her throat behind them.

“Oh Y/N this is Margret James, Jack’s friend Liam’s mom.”

“Hi it’s nice to meet you” Y/N said as she reached her hand out.

Margret looked at Y/N and weakly shook her hand.

“ Hi” she turned quickly to Aaron “so are you and Jack in to come to our house Friday?” She asked flirtily as she touched his arm.

Y/N turned to look at Dave who rolled his eyes and shook his head as if to say ‘she’s annoying don’t worry about it.’

Aaron moved away and said, “sorry we aren’t free Friday, thank you though.”

Margret walked away dejectedly as Aaron turned to take Y/N’s hand to go celebrate with Jack.

Dave smiled as he watched Aaron and Y/N scoop Jack up in a hug, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw his good friend so happy.

@violetclifford @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @badassbitchqueen

[georgesbestieboo]

Confessions Pt 1.

Hello my loves! few things before we get started! 

The pairing you will read here is an original character of mine with Bucky. She is the biological sister of our beloved Natasha Romanoff, was also put in the red room but later than Nat since she is a couple years younger. Also, the timeline is the comic timeline just to make it a bit more interesting, meaning, Natasha was born in 1928 and Calina, (My OC) was born in 1934 but since the Widows carry their age VERY well Nat will remain the age she appears in the movies and Calina will appear to be 26. 

Summary- Bucky and Calina have reunited years after they were the red room lovers, can they become lovers once more or will fear get in the way? 

Warnings- A bit about self doubt/disliking body, mentions of torture nothing explicit though, slight swearing, possible spelling and grammar errors (I did check but there are always those things that slip past you) 

Calina was not one to party, she would rather spend her Friday nights curled up in her bay window, a fuzzy blanket draped across her lap, a good book clutched tightly in her hands and a warm cup of chamomile tea steaming on her night table. But no. Being an Avenger meant getting dragged to all the famed, insane, and overwhelming parties of Tony Stark and to be honest she hated them. The earsplitting music, the drunk, sweaty bodies pressed together, the...the people, it scared her shitless. Alas, here she was getting dragged to the mall with her best friend and sister Natasha Romanoff in search of a party dress.   

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” The redhead promised, pouting her lip as she held open the department store door. 

“I don’t know Nat…” Calina trailed off eyeing the endless racks of sparkly dresses that certainly were not her. “You know this isn’t, me” The assassin’s eyes just about bugged out her head as she pulled a dress with such a plunged neck seeming like it was barely attached. Natasha instantly swatted the thin material away, taking her hand as she led her towards the back. 

“It used to be though,” She winked “Remember those days, Lina? Partying till dawn, drinking so much we’d see the stars, and-oh!” A short but joyous laugh escaped both lips as they thought about the nights they had spent after they had eventually both escaped the Red Room. 

Calina’s laughter soon died out and her face became serious, “Yes, but, that was then. This, this is now” 

“Oh don’t be such a sourpuss” 

“I am not a sourpuss, ew you sound like Alexi” 

Natasha shuddered. 

***

“Absolutely not” Calina declared the second she slipped the dress over her body. 

“Oh come on!” Nat sighed from the corner of the fitting room. They had been at this for almost 2 hours, every dress tried on ending up on the same, ever-growing pile of fabric on the floor. “This one looks good!” 

Calina shook her head hearing none of it. “Nope, nope, nope. It’s too…” Her fingers slid across the scratch rime stones. “Glittery” 

“Glitter is nice though!” 

“And it’s so…” Her eyes trailed over her exposed figure in the mirror, her hands coming up to cover the neckline dip that reached her stomach. “Low” 

“And that’s hot, so I don’t see the problem” 

Turning to face her sister Calina crossed her arms, “Why can’t I just wear one of your dresses?” She whined “You have like, a million” 

Natasha stood, scoffing. “One, you never wear a dress twice, and two, we need a dress that hugs your beautiful curves perfectly,” She pretended to make an hourglass outline of Calina’s body with her hands, the spy rolled her eyes. “I wanna make Barnes drool when he sees you” 

Ah, the truth comes out. 

“I knew that’s what you were trying to do!” Calina yelled, pumping her fist back. “I knew there was an ulterior motive!” The older woman smiled shyly, 

“You got me, but hey! In my defense you and Barnes flirting with each other all the time and neither of you doing anything is annoying, I just wanna give you two a small push” 

“We do not flirt all the time” 

“Yeah, yeah you do” 

“Молчи” Slipping out of the uncomfortable dress and breathing a sigh of relief she couldn’t help but groan, her eyes taking in all of the discarded clothes. “This isn’t going to work, Natalia, I look horrid in all of these” She squeezed her stomach as she stood before the mirror in her bra and underwear, her fingers pinching away at her skin, wishing it hugged her body tighter. Natasha’s heart clenched as she watched her sister doubt herself, something she had hated The Red Room for taking the idea of beauty from her mind. They had taught her that she would never be pretty, that she would never be enough, that she could never be loved. What hurt, even more, was knowing that her beloved sister still was haunted by those teachings. Those words constantly hiding in the shadows, waiting for a crack in her walls just to seep in and poison her mind. She slowly approached her sister, carefully pulling her hands away from her stomach and holding them tight.

“You are beautiful,” She whispered “Inside and out. Don’t let them control your head” Handing her the last dress they had left to try on she gave a small smile “Just try this last one on and if it doesn’t work, then I won’t make you go” 

“Fine” Slowly taking the dress from her sister’s hands she began to step into it, the silky material sliding snuggly up her body as she wriggled her hands through the thin straps. She heard Natasha gasp but she couldn’t bring herself to look in the mirror. 

“Look up младшая сестра, you look beautiful. This is the one” 

“Are you sure?” 

The woman chuckled, “Yes now hurry up and look” 

So she did. 

And my god did her heart flutter. 

She actually looked pretty. 

The dress was a deep sapphire blue, with cross material over her chest showing a bit of her stomach. The neckline dipped just enough to show the curve of her breasts but not too much as to make her uncomfortable. The dress was satin and tight, the shiny material clinging to each and every curve making her actually like her body for the time being. It stopped about mid-thigh a bit shorter than she preferred but everything else was perfect so she could let it slide for one night.

 “I like it” Her eyes were bright with excitement, something her sister had not seen in her the other in a while. “I think James will like it too” She added sheepishly attempting to hide the heat that went to her cheeks.

 “Ha! I knew it! You still like him!” Nat danced around the small dressing room triumphantly.

 “Okay, okay, don’t make such a big deal about it” Calina huffed. “Of course I still like him” Her mind wandered to the first time she had met Bucky, long ago in the Red Room, the soldier teaching her many ways to kill. Romantic, I know. But it was more than that, at the time he was The Winter Soldier, yes but he had a soft spot for the ballerina. Disobeying his strict orders to sneak in and see her during the night, spending it under the moon talking about everything and anything, sharing light kisses. It didn’t last long though, soon the authorities found out, ripping her soldier from her grasp. As the years went on she never forgot about the handsome, yet the broken man she met once upon a time. They didn’t meet again until the day on the bridge where he attacked everyone but her to find out later that he had recognized her instantly giving Hydra a run for its money as he tried to get back to her. 

Once they were reunited she knew she had her James back. While the road to trust and recovery was rough, she was by his side the entire time, holding his hand as they walked back from hell, getting through their ongoing trauma together. Calina’s feeling resurfaced, and the team knew his did too, but for two of the world, greatest trained assassins they were completely oblivious. 

“No shit” Natasha smirked, pulling Calina from her thoughts. “Now, let’s go max Tony’s credit card with this dress and then get finish getting ready at the tower. Sound good?” 

Finishing getting back into her street clothes that consisted of her over-sized jeans a sweatshirt of Bucky’s she had stolen months ago. Taking her sister’s outstretched hand a smile tugged at her lips. “Sounds good” 

***

Bucky groaned as a knock echoed throughout this floor. Shuffling to open it he was met by Sam who had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “I know something you don’t” He sung, pushing past the super soldier and plopping himself down in his living room. 

“I don’t remember inviting you in” Bucky deadpanned, holding his face in his hands. 

“-I just ran into Nat and Calina downstairs” 

“Cool do you want a metal?”  “Will you let me finish?! Goddamn” Sam snapped “Anyways, they’re getting ready for the party tonight. Keyword their, more than one, meaning Calina is actually attending tonight” 

Okay, that caught Buckys attention. “Lina’s coming? She never comes to the party’s?” He would know. Every time Tony threw a party, Bucky would always bring her up a plate of food, staying with her for dinner but eventually getting dragged back down to mingle by Steve even though he wanted nothing more than to stay with the girl. 

“I know, crazy right? You should totally make your move tonight, man!” The Sergeant glared at Sam. 

“Why would I do that?”

“You flirt with her all the time. You’re always touching her. You follow the woman around like a lost puppy-”

“Do not”

“-You guys have such strong chemistry anyone in the world could see it and-and! Not to mention, you guys dated before, right, in the Red Room?” 

He grit his teeth at the mention of that cruel place, thinking back to the torture they had to endure. “I’m not sure if you could call it dating, we didn’t do dating in the Red Room.”

 “But you loved her then?” 

“Of course I did” He sighed, running a tired hand through his unruly hair. Calina Romanova was his light, his steady, constant shining star. The person he fought for, the reason he even lasted as long as he did, the reason he never gave up because after all the memory wiping sessions, her smile was always in the back of his mind.

While he had forgotten everything, even himself, he never forgot the time they spent together, hoping, praying, he could hear her laugh one more time. And after 36 years, he finally could.The weight of all he had done lessened as she ran to him just before Steve had reached his apartment, he remembered it like it was yesterday.

 **Flashback**

She stood in his kitchen, the Widow suit he knew oh so well clinging to her skin as her fingers skimmed over his dusty table. “Hello James” She had whispered, her familiar accented voice standing up the hairs on his back. She stood to face him, her bright blue eyes boring into his as she smiled softly. “I’m not here to hurt you. You and I were...friends long ago I-I’m not sure if you remember me but-” 

He couldn’t believe it 

“Солнышко” The nickname he had not used in so long rolled off his tongue like he used it every day since they last parted. He couldn’t help but grin as the girl who danced around his dreams stood before him. Slowly, he approached her, his right arm reaching out to cup her face as if to check if she really was here and not just one of Hydra’s evil tricks. “Is it really you?” A tear slipped down her cheeks as a laugh bubbled throughout her chest. “You remember me” Bucky pulled her to his chest, the woman instantly responding by wrapping her arms around his torso tightly, afraid to ever let go. They held onto each other as if the world around them was crumbling down, after all these years they were finally able to hold one another again, tears stung in both of their eyes as they crushed each other into the embrace. “Of course I remember you, Calina” He murmured into her hair, breathing in the scent of Cherry Blossoms and crisp fall nights he had oh longed for. “I’ve missed you” He admitted.

“And I, you”

Then of course Steve Rogers had to burst in with the whole German Special Services on his ass, but ever since then, she hasn’t left his side. His soulmate was placed back into his life.

 **Flashback ended** 

 “Yo, Buck, you still with me” The man shook his head, attempting to shake away the memory seeping to the front of his mind. 

“Yeah, sorry” 

“It’s good, but you really should talk to Cal, its getting annoying watching you two make goo-goo eyes at each other and not do anything about it. So either you say something or I will” He warned, waving a finger as he dramatically excited the floor. “Oh, and you might wanna start getting ready!” He called from outside the door. Bucky rolled him but made his way to the dark blue suit he had laid out days before. 

“Here goes nothing”

~~Translations~~

Молчи- Shut up

младшая сестра- Younger sister

Солнышко- My sun

A/N Okay! I think that went well, let me know what you think and leave a heart if you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading, part two should be up soon but I’m on Vacation, although I will try my best to update quickly. feel free to leave recomondations! Lots of love and know I’m so proud of you! 

~Celeste