#also i had this all neatly laid out and it shifted on me literally right away and i have to rework things already. pain.

[apocalypticdemon]

this just in, writing is hard.

[alchemistc]

It's not something he thinks about terribly often - no real reason to, until this moment, with an arm slung over Evan's waist and a pair of eyes blinking at him out of the darkness.

Maddie and Howie are significantly smaller than Buck and Tommy. They are. There's no denying it. The bed that probably fits the two of them neatly with plenty of room to spare is just no match for Evan's mile-long legs, their broad chests and wide shoulders. Evan's tendency to kick one leg out from under the duvet and Tommy's habit of sprawling are just no match for this perfectly normal sized bed.

He'd said so even as they were turning out lights, voices low as they bypassed the frankly laughable double in the spare room in favor of the master, and Evan had joked that it wasn't like they didn't end most nights practically on top of one another, anyway, so what did it matter if they were a little cramped?

And he'd been right - at the time. In a California king they barely used half the bed - some combination of torsos and limbs always sliding together, heads tucked under chins and legs tangled together, arms slung over waists and pillows shared between them. Six months past the argument that had tipped them straight out of the honeymoon phase and firmly into 'actually we're just like this and that's clearly not going to change' and Tommy can't think of a single night they've actually laid down to sleep and not ended up a sprawl of interconnected pieces.

And they'd made it work, even though Maddie and Howie's bed is not large enough for two 6'2" men.

It wouldn't be a problem, except for the shadow hovering just a few feet in front of a softly snoring Evan - wet eyes and messy hair and a trembling bottom lip that Tommy is sure other people also find as devastating as he does, in this moment. "I sleep with you?" Jee Yun murmurs, wiping at her snotty nose and blinking her eyes like she doesn't already know Tommy would do pretty much anything to wipe the sad little frown off her face.

It's just.

There's no fucking room in this bed. Sure, if she'd had a bad dream and gone to seek comfort from her parents, there'd have been room, but, as Tommy has come to understand, her parents are significantly smaller than he and Evan and if Tommy shifts his weight in the wrong direction the both of them are tumbling off one end of this bed.

Jee's lip trembles.

"Did you have a nightmare, bug?" Tommy asks softly, and Jee shakes her head fiercely, tucking her chin towards her chest, a hand reaching out to dig tiny hands into the duvet. Stubborn, like the rest of her family, a refusal to admit weakness he's been in an uphill battle to stomp out of her uncle for going on a year now. Evan mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, and Jee turns still-wet eyes on Tommy.

"I sleep here with Uncle Tommy?"

Which is not playing fair at all.

When they'd all but shoved Maddie and Howie out the door to go enjoy a long weekend, insistent that it would be easier on Jee if they watched her in her own home, Jee had been ecstatic. She'd bounced off the walls for hours, dragged Tommy around with all the resolve of a child aware she had him wrapped both figuratively and literally around her tiny little fingers (her whole hand could wrap around two of his fingers at a time), insisted on piggy back rides when it became clear that riding on either of their shoulders was just a recipe for bonked heads. She'd tired herself out before the sun had even set, and passed out with her head pillowed on Evan's thigh and one foot tucked in Tommy's armpit, the other shoved under his knee on the couch.

She'd barely stirred when Tommy swung her up into his arms and tucked her into bed, and Tommy had spent a good twenty minutes after the fact furiously reminding Evan that they were not having sex in his sisters bed.

("The biological impossibility of knocking me up aside, you know what it does to me when I see you with kids, Tommy."

"Yeah, well, let your non-existent ovaries quiver with excitement for a few more days and I'll make it up to you.")

The Uncle Tommy thing is new. As in, she's never used it before this evening, nodding off in her seat while she picked at her chicken nuggets, and maybe Tommy had gone so still when she'd murmured it that Evan had actually been a little concerned, and maybe he'd indulged her request for a third episode of Bluey because of it, but he's a grown ass man who can surely let her down gently - sweep her off her feet and tuck her back in to her own bed and sit with her until she passes out again.

Or Jee can employ an absolutely deadly combo of trembling lip and tears at the corner of her eyes and Tommy can cave like the idiot he is.

Tommy assesses the scant space on Evan's side of the bed - knee curled up towards his torso and ankle dangling off the side of the bed, a hand under his cheek as he continues to snuffle in his sleep. No go there. Tommy's flush against him, knees tucked behind Evan's, arm still settled against his waist, and at his back there's plenty of space but if Tommy rolls sideways he's got maybe six inches of leeway between himself and the end of the mattress.

Tommy sighs and rolls. Jee's face lights up. Evan snorts awake and grunts in pain as he gets an elbow to the sternum and a knobbly knee to the give of his stomach when Jee climbs right up over him to shove into the newly opened space between them.

"Jee?" comes the tired voice as Evan shuffles onto his left side to face Tommy and their new company, rubbing at his eyes and smacking his lips like he's thirsty.

"Bad dream," Tommy intones softly even as Jee settles herself between them. There's a sharp knee dangerously close to his groin and a tiny little hand fisted in his sleep shirt and a face shoved into his rib cage, and Evan is giving him that look again.

Evan rests a hand against Jee's back, fingers shifting back and forth across her shoulders while she shifts her weight to find the optimal position. Jee sighs into Tommy's shirt, hot wet breath fanning out over the little spot, and kicks a leg back at an angle that must just miss something soft of Evan's, if the look in his face is anything to go by.

She's asleep before Tommy can count to ten - out like a fucking light in the space between them.

Evan's eyes meet his. It's a conversation they've had in fits and starts for months, now - since the first time he caught sight of Evan holding a baby and nearly had a meltdown in aisle three of Trader Joe's because he'd tucked that idea away years ago.

It's one they really need to have in full. Soon.

Evan's hand shifts, fingers reaching for the bolt of Tommy's jaw, thumb pressing into his cleft and then shifting sideways. "She played you like a fiddle," Evan says, voice soft, grin going wide, and Tommy glances down at the shock of dark hair tucked between them with the sudden realization that of the two of them, Evan is gonna end up being the disciplinarian.

Christ, they're fucking screwed.

He breathes, rubs his face into the pillow, reaches up to cup Evan's hand in his palm, enjoying the stretch of heat across his cheek and jaw.

"Go back to sleep," Tommy tells him, and doesn't fight the pull of a few more hours for himself when Evan sighs and lets his eyes drift closed.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

[skylar19737]

Mission Accomplished- Eijiro Kirishima

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

Warnings: Some cursing, angst if you squint, and Fluff so much fluff. Kirishima x Fem!reader WC: 1.4K

Summary: You and Kirishima have been together since your first year at UA, so it's no surprise that the both of you were still together after graduation. The two to of you were now in the top ten hero ranks, Kirishima ranking fourth and you ranking fifth. Shortly after everyone graduated, the two of you moved in an apartment together closer to Bakugou's agency. Since your birthday is the day after he gets back on a mission with Mina and Sero, he wants to spoil you as much as possible when he gets home since he wasn't with you for a week. Luckily, he got home at around 11:00 pm, only an hour before your birthday.

Kirishima's POV:

I'm so excited to see Y/n! I haven't seen her in so long, I hope she still had a good week without me here. I unlocked the door to the apartment and walked inside, everything is dark besides the color changing lights set up throughout the living room and kitchen. They're put to a deep violet color, dimly illuminating the cozy room and reflecting off the light wooden floor. "Huh, I guess Jiro came over today. I bet they were playing Mario Cart." I chuckle, locking the door and walking into our bedroom to see Y/n wearing the tiger onesie I got her all cuddled up in a ball of every blanket we had. " Adorable." I threw my duffle bag down and went over to the blanket cocoon, giving her a small peck on her forehead, then walking to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

________________________

<<< One hour later >>>

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

Once I got out of the shower I got dressed and laid down. "Eiji?" I hear a quiet voice say. "Hi pebble, sorry if I woke you." She shifts and turns in my direction.

Y/n's POV:

"It's fine. How was the mission?" I ask him, happy that he was back. I felt so lonely without him here. "It was actually kinda fun. It was a stealth mission so it was kind of difficult to focus since we were making jokes and laughing the whole time." He says. I unbundle myself from all the blankets and jump on top of him, effectively trapping him under me. "I'm happy you had fun, but I missed you a lot so I want my cuddles!" I say in the most high pitch voice ever. He wraps his strong arms snug around my waist before nuzzling his nose against my neck. " I missed you so much pebble. Also, happy birthday!" He says, placing a million small pecks all over my face, causing me to let out a small giggle. I look at the clock, "Thank you, Rocky." I say in the most seductive voice possible. He looks away flustered, face and neck flushed a pretty pink. "Don't do that to me babe!" "Don't do what?" I say, teasingly. He sighs, shaking his head. "How about we get some sleep, we gotta wake up early tomorrow." He says, while gently laying his head on the pillow, drifting off to sleep. "Okie! I love you." I say, cuddling into his side. "I love you too pebble."

<;<<The next morning>>>

Kirishima's POV:

Alright, mission is a go. One, I need to pack. Two, text the squad. Three, make breakfast then wake up Y/n so we can head out. Simple enough right? Wrong. I have absolutely zero idea of what Y/n would pack in her bag, so I'll just pack what I like to see her in... Which is literally everything in our closet. Hmm... oh that's it yeah! Also the gifts... how am I supposed to pack those without her noticing? I'll ask Katsuki later.

I get out of bed ever so quietly as to not wake her up.

"Alright, let's get to packing." I whisper, knowing Y/n is a light sleeper. Walking into the living room, I grab both of our suitcases from the hall closet and set them gently on the floor to start.

Once I finish grabbing, organizing, and neatly placing all the clothes into our luggage, I close the zipper then tip-toe back to the room and look through the cracked door. She's still asleep, good. I close the door all the way this time then make my way over to the kitchen. "Time to start breakfast. What should I make? Oh! Fuwa tiger pancakes! I bet she'll like those!" I turned the lights to gold (Y/n's favorite color) and begin the batter-making process. A few minutes later I hear the bedroom door open.

"Eijiro? Where'd you go?" I hear a small, quiet voice say. I turn around, seeing Y/n. Rubbing her eyes in her adorable tiger onesie. It was the cutest thing in the world. I turn on the stovetop and walk over to her. Grabbing the base of her neck, I pull her into a long and gentle kiss. I pull away and say,

"Right here Babe." She blushes intensely and looks away. "I see. Can I get on your back please?" She asks. I smile and turn around, bending slightly as she gets on. I walk back into the kitchen with her still on my back and finish breakfast. Once I finish, I put her down as we both sit at the table, then we both start to eat.

<;<<Twenty minutes later>>>

Once we both finished eating, I wash the small bit of dishes and go back to the room with Y/n. "We need to leave soon, so let's hurry and get ready, yeah?" I say, taking off my shirt while walking to our shared closet. "Heh, sure hot stuff~" She says in my ear. I don't think I'll ever get used to her teleporting in less than a second, but it's one of those things that make me love her more. I turn around to see her still at the foot of the bed, looking at me and crossing her arms while giving me a smirk. "What? Did you say something?" She says in a playful tone.

"No, You did!" I say. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about." I roll my eyes at her as she laughs. After we got dressed, we left and I got a text from the squad.

___Group chat___

Bakugou: Oi, shitty hair. Are you on your way?

Kirishima: Yeah bro, on the train now!

Mina: Hey guys! I'm super excited! What time

do we meet you guys there?

Kirishima: At 3:00 sharp! I don't want us to be late!

Sero: Alright guys! See ya there!

Denki: Yeah bye!

________________

Y/n's POV:

I tap on Eijiro's shoulder getting his attention. "Hm, what's up Babe?" He asks me, looking dead into my e/c eyes. "I'm fine, I just wanted to say thank you." He looks at me confused. "Thank you? What for?" He says, with a curious expression. I lean into his side and hug his firm torso. "Thank you for being my best friend when I had no one. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for loving me. Most importantly, thank you for being you. I have never felt this happy before, but it's all thanks to you for making me happy again. I know I may not show it sometimes, but I really do love and appreciate you. I just hope that I make you feel the same way, that I'm enough for you.." I say. Looking up at him, to see tears streaming down his face.

Kirishima POV:

While listening to what she was saying, my heart felt full yet shattered at the same time. I had no idea I impacted her like that, or made her even get the idea that she isn't enough. I don't really know what to do or how to react to this. I just start to cry. She looks at me, eyebrows furrowed with a concerned frown plastered across her gorgeous face.

"Eijiro, what's wrong? I'm sorry if I said-" I interrupt her, grabbing her shoulder and cupping her cheek, then pulling her into a sensual kiss. I have no idea what else I could do in this situation, but my body acted before I could think it all the way through. "Y/n... I'm sorry if you feel like you're not enough, but you are. You're way more than enough. Though, I understand where you're coming from. I just never realized how much I impact you and your feelings. I love you so much Y/n. I don't know any other way to word it." I put a hand behind her head and back, pulling her into a warm embrace before nuzzling my face at her nape.

"I love you too, Eijiro Kirishima."

[mercy-burning]

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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[americxn]

The Evans’ Love Language

a/n: It’s only been a few days but it feels like I haven’t posted in ages. I’ve had loads of school work and it was my birthday yesterday so i’ve been pretty busy but hopefully I’ll get back to posting more regularly by the end of the week <3

TATE LANGDON

- Quality time. - Tate really values his quality time with you, which he thankfully gets quite a lot of considering that he can’t leave the house and that you’re happy to let him hound you whenever you’re at home with him. - He’s always suggesting that you do something together in the evenings, even if it’s just drinking hot chocolate and talking at the kitchen table until the early hours of the morning. - He loves loves loves when you are the one to initiate the plans or when you explicitly express that you like spending time with him, too; sometimes, Tate can feel as if he’s becoming annoying or overbearing always pestering you, especially when you have other things to do, but the fact that he’s self-aware and constantly worrying about becoming too much just goes to prove that his efforts to spend time with you aren’t annoying in the slightest. - His favourite thing to do is watch movies together but he adores trying new things with you like painting or baking from a really complicated recipe as it is always disastrous and means that the two of you spend the whole time falling about in laughter.

KIT WALKER

- Physical touch. - Kit shows and feels love through physical touch, mostly through casual touching in public, like hand holding and thigh touching, but also in the bedroom. - Kit, although so seemingly sweet and patient, is so touchy and possessive when you fuck. His hands will remain on your body at all times, whether gripping onto your thighs, your shoulders or ass or hands, even your feet, both his hands will remain gripping onto your skin until long after you’re done.  - You asked him about it once and he simply explained that he loved how soft and warm you feel in his palms and that by holding onto you he felt like he was ‘deepening the connection between you physically’. You had laughed at his explanation, but it warmed your heart nevertheless.  - Kit also loved to be touched. Whenever you’re cuddling together, as much as he loves to be the one to hold you, he completely melts whenever you shift his weight off yours, reversing the roles for once and tucking him tightly to your body.  - When you’re doing simple things such as eating dinner or brushing teeth, Kit will slide his hand into yours, causing you to smile softly as you interlace your fingers together. 

(franken)KYLE SPENCER

- Kind of the same as Kit, Kyle’s love language manifests itself in physical touch, but for Kyle, it’s more to reassure himself that you’re with him and that you love him. - It started right after his death. He couldn’t and wouldn’t fall asleep unless he had your hand clutched in his, even if he had to fight to keep his eyes open. You had never minded this, waiting until his breathing had evened out and his fingers fell limp around your hand before slipping off the bed beside him and getting some time to yourself before returning to curl up beside him to sleep. - When Kyle was sad, he would be especially clinging, bringing your hand up to his face and just resting his head on your fist with his eyes closed until he had composed himself enough to explain to you what had upset him.  - It became difficult when he was angry, especially when the two of you had had an argument or you had done something to annoy him. He would go between shoving you off him and shouting, to pulling your body to him and muttering angry, hateful words in your ear before shoving you off again. You hated when this happened, often leaving the room and letting Kyle let off his anger however he saw fit, sometimes smashing things and shouting profanities, sometimes just standing in the room trying to process how he was feeling and why. Either way, he eventually sought you out to apologise, his eyes teary and guilt-filled. 

JIMMY DARLING

- Acts of service (being a cute lil gentleman). - James expresses his love, and feels your love in return, by doing small favours for you, or going out of his way to make your day just that little bit easier. - He refuses to let you walk through a doorway that you opened yourself, even going so far as to pull you back out of the door by your waist, shove you behind him gently and re-open it for you if you initially beat him to it. - if he wakes up earlier than you and has places to be, he’ll untie your shoes and leave them neatly laid out by the front door.  - He adores bringing you bunches of the wildflowers that grow around the camp, just to see your eyes light up in happiness when he presents them to you with an over-exaggerated flourish. - Even when you argue, you’ll always find signs of Jimmy’s undying care for you in the way that the caravan is always warm, that there is always a glass of water left out on the side for you and that there is never a time that you have to search frantically around the caravan for a single missing sock or your favourite hair tie. 

JAMES MARCH

- Gift giving. - Literally to the point where it can get a bit annoying. - “Do you like it?” “Yes, James, I love it, almost as much as I love you, but I thought I asked you to stop buying me things?” “Yes, you did. I ignored you.” - You’re not ungrateful or anything and you cherish every single item that James has gifted you over the years, whether it be a piece of jewellery, perfume or a new satin robe. But when things start to pile up in your shared hotel room and you literally have to take half of your belongings into a different room to store them, you begin to beg James to stop buying you so much, trying to convince him that you don’t need expensive clothes or glittering jewels to be reminded of James’ love for you.  - But, of course, your words go unheeded, James continuing to shower you with gifts, big and small, at least twice a week, the wicked grin on his face at your mounting exasperation growing with each neatly wrapped gift box.  - “How can I compete with this?” You said one day, an incredulous look creasing your brow. “You can’t. That’s the point.” James chirped in return, his hands clasped behind his back and a little smirk beneath his pencil moustache. And then continuing quietly at your silence as you surveyed the closet he had fitted in your room, the interior lined with designer clothes and shoes: “Although, a kiss would probably suffice.”

KAI ANDERSON - Words of affirmation. - Kai wasn’t one for sincere complements, the only time he used them being when he lured people into the cult, manipulating them in his favour. - But with you, they were absolutely sincere and they never went by you unnoticed. - “Your hair looks so pretty like that.” - “You should cook this more often, it’s amazing.” - “I love your handwriting. It’s so simple but so unique.” - You blush every single time, and although he doesn’t comment on it, you know that Kai notices and that your reaction is the only reason why he expresses these little acclamations. - You often compliment him without even thinking, casually pressing a kiss to his cheek and commenting on how soft his skin is or how good he always smells, but unlike him, you don’t really pick up on the effects it has on him, the way his eyes shine momentarily and he goes quiet, just staring at you in reverence. - Kai’s soft, affirming side is always present during sex. His lips are always by your ear, whispering words of encouragement and praises, even when he’s being particularly rough and using your body so thoroughly that your skin bruises almost instantly, his voice is always soft as he whispers soft reassurances to you. 

[kinsurou]

After Class

Pairings: Takami Keigo x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), No Quirks! AU, Sex in a classroom, Reader is a virgin.

Here's my very first piece of smut, please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the show!

It takes all of your willpower to hold back the pent-up rage growing inside you like a fire doused in gasoline, everyone in the classroom can see the poker face you're trying to maintain is dangerously close to break and let out a horrifying monster called your temper.

Everyone except for the teacher can see you're nearly at your limit, there's an enormous urge to punch someone in the face that keeps growing, and that someone just happens to be the same woman giving you an earful in front of the whole class.

"You should be paying more attention during class instead of being on your phone!" She turns back towards the rest of her students. "Let this be an example to all of you! Don't be like your classmate here!"

She slams her bottle of water in your desk, for dramatic purpose, and finally, she walks back to her own desk, feeling satisfied with her actions. How in the world did someone like her become a college teacher in the first place is a question you'll never get a proper answer to.

There's actually a reason why she's been treating you like this for the past two weeks. A reason that just happens to walk inside the classroom a few minutes after the bell rings, he's carrying a stack of papers in hand, accompanied by a lazy grin stretched all over his face, but that expression quickly shifts to confusion and concern once he feels the tension inside the classroom.

"Sheesh, what's with the long faces guys?"

The teacher's mood flips in an instant. She starts greeting him with a big smile, and there's a not so subtle glint in her eyes that makes many, if not all of her students, cringe in repulse.

"Hi there Takami! Now this is a surprise, is Tanaka not coming today?"

"Good morning to you too Ms. Ito." He replies. "No, professor Tanaka called in sick, but he asked me to watch over the kids for today and hand out their exams. Though judging by everyone's mood, I'm guessing something happened?"

Ito just waves off his question nonchalantly. "I was just talking to everyone not to follow their classmate's example," She throws a dirty look at you from the corner of her eye. "Can you believe the nerve of this girl? Being on her phone in the middle of my lecture? Some people are just completely ungrateful when it comes to their education!"

In the meantime, you're biting down on your lower lip with such force, it's almost a surprise there's not a sight of blood, you're trying so very hard to ignore her snide remarks, all in favor of taking notes from the whiteboard in front of the classroom.

The only thing you were to blame for was forgetting to put your phone on Silent, otherwise she wouldn't have batted an eye when the device rang with a text from your mother. And yet all this woman wanted was an excuse to make you look bad in front of everyone, she just happened to find one at the right moment.

"He's so looking your way right now˜. "Your best friend whispers from your right, with that teasing tone you know all too well.

"Shut.up." You hiss, not really in the mood for another earful after the little stunt with the teacher.

You don't bother paying attention while the blond's gaze lingers on you, disregarding the woman's attempt to get the spotlight with ease, leaving her desperate to make another futile attempt until she finally realizes her class is over. All she can do to keep the remains of her dignity is walk out of the classroom with a huff and a sour attitude.

You feel pity for the students in her next class, they haven't even started the lesson yet and are going to have to deal with the human equivalent of a Tasmanian devil. You could almost listen to her yelling from across the campus already.

Takami Keigo, also nicknamed "Hawks" by his friends, is a teacher's assistant at your college. Older than the majority of your class only by two years, and yet he behaves in such a professional manner with everyone that is hard to believe he's actually a student as well.

It's hard not to like him when he's so chill with everyone, for even in cases like this, when he's asked to take over after a teacher's unavailable, Hawk's only assignment is to stay with the class during the whole period. This time however, he comes carrying a stack of papers.

"Alright kids," He starts, just to be interrupted by one of your classmates.

"Seriously Hawks? You're not that older than us!" They're obviously joking around with him, it's hard to be serious when this guy is around.

"Respect your elders kid!" Laughter fills the whole classroom, dissipating the tension in the air like it's nothing but mist.

Everyone but you is laughing their hearts out, until Hawks points out the contents of the papers.

"As I was saying, Your teacher had to attend some personal business, but he asked me to hand out your test results, and let me tell you guys one thing..." The following silence leaves everyone on edge. "All of you did an amazing job! I don't think I've ever seen so many good notes in a single classroom!"

Everyone starts yelling at him comically. All of you know just how much he enjoys teasing people, but somehow you can't ever get used to his teasing, and he knows it, it's why he's always abusing of his little tendency.

Anybody could agree he's the total opposite of Miss Ito. A 27-years old teacher who's always arguing with her own students for something as insignificant as yawning. Someone who apparently forgot the rule where it says it's strictly forbidden for a teacher to date a student.

That doesn't seem to stop her from throwing hints at a small group of guys, each from a different classroom, and it most certainly doesn't stop her from trying to flirt with the new teacher's assistant.

Hawks starts walking through each row of desks, handing out the papers one by one, each time he gives somebody their sheet of paper you can hear him telling everyone they did a good job.

Once he hands out your own test, his fingers brush against your own with subtleness, sending a small shiver all the way down your arms.

"Good job kid, You had one of the best grades out of the whole class. Your teacher said the same thing too, y'know." The way he says those words with such a reassuring energy makes all the anger inside you leave, no longer the urges to smack somebody tempts you to go looking for Miss Ito and shove your papers up her nose.

All you can muster is a small smile at the guy standing in front of you.

He smiles in return and walks to the next row of seats, ready to hand out the rest of the results.

It's only after he leaves your sight that you see it. A small post it note at the corner of your exam, and judging by the neat handwriting, it's a note from Hawks.

"Meet me after class, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Just when in the world did he write this? You didn't even notice when he put the tiny piece of paper in your test.

...Were you in trouble for something?

"Look Y/N! I've never had such a high grade before!" Your friend's voice snaps you out of the small paranoic fit. Turning towards him, your eyes widen in shock after seeing the results, and even you are surprised by how well he did on his exam.

"What the hell F/N? You got a perfect score!" You can't help the smile of pride that comes out, proud at F/N for getting such a good grade. He wasn't the worst student, but he wasn't the best either, so seeing the perfect score in his paper was something worth celebrating for.

The rest of the class goes by pretty quickly. Most of the time is spent reviewing the results of your exams with each other, and organizing future study sessions for the subjects you happened to have the most trouble with.

The loud ringing of the bell indicates the end of the last period. And with that everyone can finally leave for the day.

Except for you...

"We have to celebrate this! What do you say we go to that pizza place we love?" F/N stands from his chair to stretch his whole body, you wince at the loud "POP!" coming from his back.

"Maybe tomorrow? There's something I need to do first..." Your eyes wander back to the little pocket in your bag, where the little neon yellow note is carefully tucked away.

"Alright, I'll call you tonight then! See you on Saturday!" With that he walks out of the room along with the rest of your classmates. You're slowly putting all your stuff inside your bag, and it's until the last book is neatly stored alongside the rest of the notebooks and pens that you look up from your seat.

And he's sitting on top of the teacher's desk, Hawks keeps staring at you with something unknown deep inside those amber eyes of his, something lingers in that look and it makes you feel weird on the inside.

But you managed to keep calm before he starts talking.

"That was quite the ruckus back there, uh?" He chuckles, eyes closed as he leans back on the wooden surface.

All you can do is sigh in annoyance at the reminder of your teacher's words.

"Do you want me to remind you why she's being a bitch to me in the first place?" Your mind is faster than your brain, a hand shots up to cover it in shame once you realize what you just called her in front of an unofficial staff member.

But his laughter only becomes louder at your words. Hawks is literally shaking in place, small tears prickling his eyes and head tilted back.

"Easy there, I'm fully aware of it and I take the full blame for it."

He knows it's his fault Miss Ito hates you right now, all because the blond haired male was being friendly with you the other day. The same guy she had laid her eyes on. If there's something you all know is that when Miss Ito gets her eyes on someone single, approaching them is like a death sentence.

Sadly you became one of her targets by pure accident. And now you have to suffer the consequences of something unnecessary.

"But look at the bright side," He goes on. "She can't really lower your grades for no reason, count the fact you have one of the highest grades in her class and it'll look suspicious if you ask me. So for now, just keep up the good work."

You take another look at his features while getting up from your chair. His eyes hold nothing but sincerity, the easy going mood as he stands up from his seat is still evident.

But once he starts getting closer everything changes in the blink of an eye.

He's standing right in front of you, his arms caging your body between his own and your desk. The smell of his cologne quickly invading your nostrils. A subtle combination between citrus and musk that seems to fit Hawks perfectly, it's an alluring and addictive smell that makes you want to lean forward and breath said scent deeply.

That snaps you back to reality, and causes you to look up at him in the eye. A hue of crimson crawling its way up from your neck to your whole face. The whole room's beginning to spin all around you from the nerves struggling to take control.

"W-What are you doing?" The feigned confidence makes him rise an eyebrow in amusement, the glint in his eyes still present as he takes another look at you. His gaze pierces its way into your soul with such ease that it makes it hard to keep eye contact with the man trapping you between his arms.

"I think I should have been more direct from the very beginning..." He leans closer, warm breath hitting your face, making another course of goosebumps run down through your body in big waves.

There's a small and not so foreign feeling between your thighs, making the situation ten times worse.

You know what that feeling is, you just haven't felt anything like it before...

"I don't think I've ever met someone like you. Someone as hard working," His cheek nudges your own as he leans further and inhales your own scent, your bodies are pressed against each other with such an overwhelming amount of strength for someone as lean as Hawks.

"Someone as strong..."One of his hands caress your hip, making you gasp at the sensation of his hands brushing against your skin despite the layer of clothing covering your body.

"Someone as attractive." He's enamoured by the way your face turns away from him, eyes closed tightly from something as simple as his touch.

"If I'm being honest with you..." That same hand caressing your hip goes up, trapping your chin in between his fingers before turning it back to face him, his thumb skims over the outline of your lower lip with such a tender touch, it's enough to make you open your eyes to look at him.

That glint on his eyes is still in there, but this time, with everything happening right now, it all makes sense. This time you can tell just what that glint really means.

"I want you."

It meant lust.

His lips come crashing down on yours filled with never ending passion and lust. Hawks leans in closer, wrapping his arms around your hips as he ravishes your mouth. The warmth of his body makes you feel dizzy, like an intense fever that could make you hallucinate at any moment.

Never in your life has somebody kissed you like this before, with an intensity that makes all of your senses malfunction.

The kiss becomes more desperate as he pulls your body even closer. His touches makes your body give up as your legs begin trembling from dizziness, making him groan in satisfaction at the way you react to his strokes, and before your legs can actually give up on you and make you fall on the floor like an idiot, your own hands grip tightly on his arms for support.

When your limbs makes contact with his biceps, you realize just how fit Hawks actually is. The muscles under your palms feel hard and strong, you can almost feel every single movement as he flexes.

He pulls away soon after, smirking in satisfaction at the dizzy look on your face. You're panting heavily, eyes closing again and face flushing into a deeper shade of crimson than before, and that was only from his kisses.

The mere sight is enough for the growing tent in his pants to become harder, making your own eyes go wide at the realization of what the hard feeling against your leg actually is.

"H-Hawks...Wait...!" You can barely make a proper sentence, still high from everything going on. "I, We can't, you're..."

"I am...?" His teasing doesn't seem to stop. he too, is panting hard before kissing your cheek tenderly and slowly, slowly starts to kiss all the way down from the skin on your face all the way down to the jaw, eventually he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, where he starts nibbling softly.

Oh god, please don't leave a mark.

It takes all of your strength to push him away just a few inches. He's not even upset by the gesture, half lidded eyes staring at you intensely.

You finally catch your breath after a few minutes. Glaring at him with more embarrassment than anything else.

"You, are the teacher's assistant. Is it really okay for you to be doing this with a student?!"

All he does is give you a nonchalant look, followed by a smirk that leaves you frozen in place.

Is this guy really the same one that helped you out the other day? The same one that's always helping out everyone around campus with a smile on his face?

He touches your face affectionately once again, before answering your question.

"Yes, you're right, I am a teacher's assistant. But there's something you should know about it..." His eyes don't move from your swollen and bruised lips, with traces of sweet lip gloss slightly smeared on the side.

"Considering I don't have any power over the student's grades, there's really no problem for me to date one y'know?" Hawk's once again making direct eye contact with you, this time the lust in his eyes is more intense than before.

"Besides, be honest with me. You hate Miss Ito, and to be honest so do I."

You can't help blinking twice at his remark, nothing but silence fills the room.

"She may be a bright teacher, but the way she treats her students is unacceptable. That, and there's the fact she won't stop bothering me during free periods." He steps back slightly, pulling you by the wrists in the direction of the teacher's desk, right on the spot where he was sitting before.

"Wouldn't you like to get a bit of revenge on her? Just imagine, being fucked in the very same spot where she grades your exams..."

His words leave you thinking deeply, and you're so deep in thought about it you don't even realize what's going on for a second until you feel his strong arms lifting your body with ease.

You never thought you'd be doing something like this, but here you are, sitting over the desk where your teachers give their lessons, all while one of the hottest men in campus is about to do such depraved things to your body.

"So...What's it gonna be?" His hands are caressing your knees, rubbing circles on the tender skin as he anticipates an answer. If looks could kill his would have burned you a long time ago from the fiery passion behind it.

Your own hands grab on the sides of his face, pulling him closer into a sloppy but swift kiss before you look him in the eye once again.

"Just be gentle, alright...?" The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Hawk's eyes once again have a mischievous glint deep inside.

"I promise you, by the time we're done here," He kisses your jaw softly. "You'll never want someone to be 'gentle' with you again."

He leans forward for another kiss, and this time, you eagerly kiss him back, the hands resting on your knees pry them apart slowly, giving him enough space to stand in between them.

The heat of his body, along with that intoxicating cologne of his makes the experience even more satisfying, small moans escape your mouth as his hands go under your shirt to caress the skin underneath, his touch feels so...delightful on your skin, almost good enough to make you forget about all of your troubles and dive into an euphoria induced dream.

His hands stop at the clasp of your bra, meticulously unclasping the lingerie, you can feel the fabric becoming loose at the front, but he makes no movement to fully take off your top.

Instead his hands just leave their place at your back to pull both the top and the piece of lingerie until it's all ruffled over your neck, he pulls away from the kiss to look down, and it leaves you flustered when he won't stop staring at your bust with intensity.

"...What?" You ask with embarassment, and he can't help laughing at your reaction.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the view?"

"Stop it Hawks!" He gives you a look full of authority, it makes your body tremble in arousal, the dampness between your legs is proof enough of the effect this guy has on your body.

"Stop calling me that, and start calling me Keigo."

"But I-"

"Would you prefer to call me 'Daddy' instead?"

You give him an incredulous look, face once again flushed by his words.

"Keigo you son of aaaahhhh-" The words die in your throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath instantly after he engulfs one nipple with his mouth, causing another wave of shivers to shake your whole body to the core.

You try to fight them back, but the whimpers come out victorious and escape through your lips in a rush. It makes Hawks...No, Keigo, smirk victorious, but it's hard to take him serious when he has one of your boobs in his mouth.

He releases the wet bud with a small "pop!", and caress the tip with his index finger, the friction makes another whimper come out, once again making his smirk confidently.

"Look at you. We're just getting to the good part, and you're already a moaning, trembling mess." He looks down in between you legs with a hungry, predatory stare that could make anyone shrink before him.

"It's a good thing you choose to wear a skirt today."

A hand dips down under said piece of clothing, rubbing a damp spot underneath with their middle finger, right where your still clothed and damp slit throbs, craving more of the deliciously immoral graze.

Fuck...

You can't hold back anymore, and you don't want to either.

You're about to have sex in a classroom.

YOUR CLASSROOM.

"What is it princess?" Keigo growls in satisfaction, enjoying how you're finally starting to let those sweet moans out without a care in the world. "Something you'd like to say? Can't say I'm not enjoying seeing you fight back all those sweet moans."

Someone could walk in any minute now, Miss Ito could be walking in any moment as well, but nothing matters anymore.

All you want is for him to take your body however he pleases.

You pull on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into another sloppy and fervent kiss. He really like this new side of you. Always be wary of the quiet ones they say.

His hands sneaks inside the panties, two fingers going deep inside your velvet walls with a slow pace. The friction is so addicting, and you can't help it when your hips move against your will, craving for more.

"Keigo..." You're panting, eyes clouded with desire. "Please take me, I can't wait any longer!"

That's all he needed to hear. But just to make sure you'll enjoy every single moment...

"As much as I'd love to be inside you already." His fingers start picking up speed, you yelp in surprise at the sudden increase of his movements. "I want you enjoy every single part of this. After all, it's your first time, isn't it?"

Between the nerves of being caught and his ministrations you can barely think straight, but your brain still manages to process his words, and it leaves you surprised.

"How?" This time he gives you a tender smile before kissing your temples.

"The way you kept trembling when I got closer? How you kept hesitating? It was pretty obvious, princess." Your walls clench around his fingers, he could tell you're pretty close, so he pulls back his fingers, leaving you hot, bothered and whining at the sudden lack of friction. "But don't you worry a pretty little hair, I'll take good care of you."

His arms hook themselves under your thighs, pulling them forward until his clothed and still throbbing girth brushes against your soaked pussy. The friction feels so fucking good. You can barely wait to feel the rest of it.

"Oh! right!" His hand goes inside his back pocket, and pulls out a small, blue package.

"...Do you always carry one of those around with you?" You squint at him in suspiciousness, and he gives you a sheepish grin in response.

"Nah, the nurse gave me a handful of them as a joke." Keigo quickly unbuckles his jeans, and lowers them along with his boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out, it's average in length, but it makes up for it with thickness. Its head is also a prominent, reddish shade, throbbing and dribbling with precum.

You couldn't take you eyes off from it, and Keigo couldn't say he didn't like the attention.

He decides to put on a show, putting on the condom at such a slow pace to tease you for a bit. Seeing you squirm due the lack of body contact almost makes him come right on the spot.

Good thing the little piece of latex already comes with lube, not that he'd need much judging by the mess you're making below.

"Are you ready?" He asks, pulling aside your panties and resting his member over your sweet core. As desperately as he wants to pound you into the wooden surface, he'd rather double check, make sure you're completely comfortable with everything about to happen.

And make the experience so good, that you'll eventually come back to him crawling, begging for more of his sinful courtesy. So he can gladly give everything you ask for.

You pull him closer again, wrapping your arms around him with shaky hands. It's not that you're scared, but the nerves are hard to get rid of when it comes to having your first time with someone you've been crushing on for months.

"Please, I want you." You throw those words back at him.

He nods in response, kissing your face with a softness that could make anyone melt, and slowly, so very slowly starts pushing himself inside you. Keigo can hear you whimpering, not used to such a foreign feeling just yet.

It's not painful, but it makes you feel so unusually full once he's completely buried inside you. He also starts growling, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching, creating the perfect spot that fits his throbbing cock in such a delicious ways, it's almost impossible to describe how good you feel.

But one thing's certain, he can't get enough of it.

"God, you're so fucking tight." His voice is so low and hoarse, it nearly makes him sound feral, like a predator about to devour his prey.

And you, were the prey.

"Ahhh...So good, it feels so good being inside my princess."

Your arms grab onto the back of his shirt, bodies plastered against each other so nicely, fitting together just like a puzzle.

Like you were meant for each other from the very beginning.

Keigo pecks you on the lips tenderly. Hips pulling back carefully until nothing but the head is left inside, and then he gives a deep thrust that nearly knocks your whole breath away. Neither of you are capable of holding back the noises, and you don't want to either.

For the first time since you started college, you're glad to be in one of the classrooms in the fourth floor, as far away from prying ears as possible.

"Keigo, oh my god." Your body finally begins to relax, and Keigo can feel it too. He's grateful your insides are finally getting used to having him inside you, otherwise he probably would have come already from the tight clutch of your sweet and slippery cunt.

The moment he feels you completely relaxed it's where the real action begins. He pulls your arms away from him and lays you down over the whole surface.

The palm of his hand plants itself besides your head, acting as a support, otherwise he probably would have fallen over you, too lost over the pleasure your body provides him. The other hand is busy holding on to your hips for dear life, digging his nails on the skin and leaving a painful yet addicting feeling behind, as well as a couple of marks on the bruised skin.

"Remember when I said you'd never want something 'gentle' after this?" He smirks, looking down at you with such dominance, you can't even process any type of thought that's not related to him anymore. "Well, I always keep my promises. Princess."

In the blink of an eye he starts thrusting so hard and fast that you can't help it when the moans start getting louder. Keigo moves with a pace so strong, so fast, and so passionate that rattles the whole desk. It makes your thoughts wander in place, imagining the loud slam that could probably be heard across a room should he be fucking you in bed.

"Hey..." A snap of his fingers brings you back to the present, and to a frowning blond. "Eyes on me princess, or is this too boring for you?"

He stops moving altogether, even despite your desperate whines at the sudden halt of his thrust, but Keigo's a persistent man, and a teasing little shit who adores making you squirm underneath him.

"Keigoooo!" You hips move on their own, trying to get some more of that delicious feeling of his cock against your velvet walls. It doesn't last for long though, as both of his hands have a unshakable hold on your sides, completely preventing you from grinding against him any longer.

"If you really want more..." His hands travels all the way down to your aching sex, rubbing a single digit against your clit and drawing out a high pitched moan. "Then beg for it...Tell me, just how much you really want it."

"I..." You can't even form a proper sentence, an endless stuttering from his finger rubbing harder against the small bud, preventing you from doing so.

You can't talk, you can barely think, but you need him.

"I want you...to fuck me harder. P-Please Keigo, I really, really need your c-cock!" That's all you can say, and that's all he needs to hear. Keigo begins moving again, this time at such a brutal pace that makes everything go white. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes loudly all around the classroom, and the smell of sex engulfs the whole room.

"That's much better!" He growls, satisfied with the way your head falls back when he hits a certain spot. Keigo gives another harsh thrust, making you scream from how good it feels to have him ravish your body like this.

You're so caught up in the moment, drowning in ectasy from every push. Then you feel it, the way your insides twist from the upcoming orgasm as he begins rutting mercilessly, kissing your womb over and over again.

"Keigo!" There's something about the way you scream his name, that makes his length twitch as it slips back and forth inside your cunt. And his pace begins to waver once he feels his own climax approaching. "I'm coming...!"

"You're coming princess? You want to cum all over my cock?" He gives another sharp thrust, drawing out another moan from you. By this point he could guess your throat is more likely sore from how loud you're getting. And he adores it.

"Do it then," He gasps, head burying itself on your shoulder and biting down on the soft flesh, that is definitely going to leave a mark. "Come for me, make a mess all over this desk, so every time you're in class you'll never forget what happened here behind everyone's back!"

He knows the effect his words have on you, that grin on his face says it all as he watches your body convulsing, trembling as your very first orgasm shakes your senses. He follows after you almost immediately, utterly overwhelmed after the had clenching of your walls around him.

You're both feeling exhausted, attempting to calm your heavy breathing. During that brief period of time, you keep wondering if what happened would be just a one time thing. And once the both of you walked out of the room, Keigo would tell you to pretend nothing happened.

In a way, it makes a small aching dig it's way inside your heart.

"Hey princess, what's with the long face?" Keigo's face leaves its place on your shoulder, worried you might be regretting everything that happened just a minute ago. "I told you there would be no problem in getting involved with me."

"I know," Slowly your hands release their hold on his shirt, leaving behind a couple of wrinkled spots. "But this changes everything. Was this just a one time thing?"

"Oh, that's what you're worried about?" His questions comes out so casually it almost gives you whiplash from how fast you turn to look at him, brows raised high in confusion.

Once again he grabs your chin between his fingers. This time with a softer look in his eyes than when he first proposed this debauchery.

"I meant what I said before, I've never met someone like you before." He gives a soft peck to your jaw, lips lingering in place momentarily. His eyes are closed, deep in thought as he thinks carefully about his next words.

"The question is. Do you, want this to be a one time thing?" He's making eye contact with you again. "Or do you want this to go further?"

"I, want to get to know you better, Keigo." The answer is barely audible, but he manages to hear it, judging by the soft look he gives you.

"That's all I need to hear. Now, what do you say we get out of here? The janitor should be arriving any moment now, and honestly." He pulls out his already soft member, making you whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. "I'd rather be the only one seeing you like this."

Quickly you both try fixing yourselves as much as you can. Thankfully you always carry a small package of napkins, and quickly clean up the dripping mess between your legs before fixing up your clothes.

As well as the dirty predicament on the desk, the janitor's not to blame for the consequences of Ito's attitude after all.

You both walk out of the classroom carefully. Thankfully Keigo didn't have anything pending, so nobody came looking for him during your little "chat". But if any of your friends happened to see this, you'd never hear the end of it from them.

..........

Just like Keigo predicts, the next time you walk inside the classroom everything that happened last Friday comes back. And when Miss Ito's lesson finally starts, you have to fight back the urge to give her that same mocking smile she gave you last time.

If that's not satisfying enough, then the moment the whole school witnesses her outrage after she makes another move on Hawks, just for the teacher's assistant to mention he's already seeing someone definitely is a sight nobody will ever forget. Particularly after she's finally called into the principal's office for her lack of professionalism.

The whole school ends up celebrating the event. And you definitely will celebrate once again after class, judging by the subtle looks Keigo sends your way after the ordeal.

Taglist: @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter twelve

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1660

When the sun poked its head through the window and serenely convinced your eyes to open, you were disappointed and grateful all in the same moment. You stretched a bit, expecting your arm to brush Levi, but only being met with the soft white sheets adorning the bed the two of you had shared. Part of you was a bit upset, and the other was glad you didn't have to face him. What would you even say to him? You placed your hand over the ruffled sheets next to you; it was still warm -- he hadn't been gone long. Your mind had spun together embarrassment, confidence, happiness, dismay, longing and dislike all into one confusing feeling that left you dizzy.

As your vision focused, you saw his clothes still neatly laid over the chair. You sat up rather quickly and peeked over the side of the bed; his boots were still there, too. "Fuck," you whispered, throwing your head back on the pillow and sighing.

Like clockwork, Levi walked in. His hair was messy and unkempt, and his eyes looked tired. His pants hung loosely around his hips from the night of sleeping in them. Between where his pants hung low and his shirt rode up, the bottom of his stomach and the band of his underwear peaked through. "Good morning," he greeted you, the tiniest grin evident on his face for only a second. "How did you sleep?" He walked over to the chair, sauntering in the nonchalant fashion only he could accomplish.

"I slept well," you answered, embarrassed down to the bone. You knew your cheeks shone red, and you wished Levi had left before you woke up. "Sorry about last night. I -- um --" You watched as he pulled his shirt swiftly over his head with one hand and elected to stare at the ceiling instead. "I was having a pretty rough dream." You found yourself glancing over at him again as he buttoned and tucked in the white shirt he wore the day before. He nodded.

"Erwin kept me away much longer than I would've preferred. Don't be sorry, though. I needed to catch up on sleep anyway." He slung his jacket over his shoulders and sat on the edge of your bed, pulling his boots onto his feet. He tied them into bows before standing and facing you. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, sending the same tingles down your arm that overtook most of your body the night before. "I have work to do. I'll be back tonight. Good luck with Hange today." With that, he turned and started toward the door.

"Levi," you called after him, seeing him turn his head to the side in acknowledgement, "you left your shirt." It was laid flat at the foot of the bed, neatly placed as if he put it there on purpose.

"I know."

---

When Jean came in that morning, you knew you were in for a ride. You had been questioning what to do in the hour between Levi's departure and Jean's arrival, and eventually decided on telling him the truth. You were pulling your shirt over your head as Jean sat on the bed and faced the wall opposite to you, and you decided now was as good a time as ever.

"So, I have a little bit of news," you began, your voice trailing. You watched the back of his head as he perked up, waiting excitedly to hear whatever you had to tell him.

"Well, go ahead and take the floor. No need for a dramatic introduction," he told you, folding his hands in his lap.

"Levi and I slept together last night," you obliged.

"What the fuck?" he said rather loudly, his head whipping around to face you. Your arms launched to cover your unclothed body as his face turned red, and he turned right back around to face the wall.

"Damn it, Jean, I'm changing!"

"My bad. You just dropped a lot of information on me at once. Maybe we did need a dramatic introduction." You watched him lay his head in one hand and saw the rise and fall of his back as he sighed. "You're going to be the death of me, you know. You had sex with Captain Levi?"

Your cheeks burned red at his assumption. "No! What? I didn't word that clearly enough. We literally slept together. Asleep. In the same bed. Together." You watched the rise and fall again as he breathed out, likely with relief.

"How the hell did you end up curled up in bed with the captain?" His tone sounded slightly less urgent, more exasperated than shocked.

You slid your shirt -- Levi's -- over your head and relived the events of the night before for what must have been the hundredth time. You half hopped, half limped around the bed and sat next to Jean, leaning back on your hands.

"Okay, so he came in and we had tea like always. Then, some guy I didn't recognize came to tell him that Erwin needed him in his office. He told me he'd be back soon, but after a few hours I fell asleep. When he came back, he woke me up because I was having a pretty bad nightmare," you recalled, looking up at the ceiling. Your eyes moved to Jean's as you continued. "He was making sure I was okay, and asked if I need anything. For some reason, I asked him to lay with me."

Jean shook his head. "And he just climbed in bed with you? That's hard to believe."

You shrugged. "It's the truth. He took off his shoes and his jacket and stuff and just hopped in. Cuddled with me and everything. It was pretty strange."

It was, undeniably. No matter how hard you tried to rationalize the events of the night before as the natural progression of your newfound friendship, or just a gesture of comfort during a traumatic time, the fact that it was strange at best was unavoidable. You hugged yourself inconspicuously and absentmindedly, thinking of how it felt to have his arm around your shoulders and your face tucked into the safety of his chest. You remembered how, when he thought you were asleep, his fingers started to trace circles in your hair and on your arms. He'd never admit to that, though. Just as you'd never admit that you laid there, eyes closed and yet still awake, until his breathing became even and his fingers trailed away to fall onto the mattress at your side. When you were sure he was sleeping, you finally allowed your eyes to peer up at his face for a few long moments to admire how peaceful he looked.

"Do you have a thing for him?" Jean asked, voice a bit less exasperated, snapping you out of your trance of memories.

"No!" you defended yourself, before the truthful part of your brain came forward. "Well, I don't know. I hated him a couple of weeks ago. Then he apologized to me, and started coming to my room every night. He's not as abrasive as he was before." You let your arms rest on your knees, hands hanging daintily down. "Maybe I do. But it isn't like it matters. He would never look at me that way."

The two of you continued idly talking about the night before as you walked to meet Hange, Connie joining on the way and ending the conversation abruptly. The day was full of much more walking on your own than the typical one, and it was evident how much better you were getting. You decided that perhaps the end wasn't too far away.

Still, you couldn't take your mind off Levi. You remembered your anger when he caught you stealing food for Sasha, the livid hate dripping from your voice as you yelled at him. You thought of his harsh tone as he berated you for risking your life, and again when he announced that he knew of your time spent with Eren. Then, your mind shifted.

You could hear the sincerity in his voice as clearly as day as he told you that he would have risked his life just the same in your situation. Even in his dislike for you, he found a moment to praise. The validation that moment alone gave you was immense. You imagined his arms cradling you as he carried you back from the bathroom that night, knowing that marked the beginning of everything with him.

Then, you thought of how it was now. The hushed talks over steaming cups of tea as you slowly became friends were now a staple of your day. Sure, he was tough, and hardly agreeable. At times you absolutely loathed him. But beneath that surface, you theorized, there was an entirely different person. You could see it when the corner of his mouth turned up as if he was trying to keep his smile as a secret. Or when he looked at you in concern, his almost invisible display of caring for you. When he touched your hand and asked if you were okay. When he held you so gently after your nightmare that you were sure you were in the arms of a much more sensitive man.

You thought of your excitement for the night to follow, of the feeling of the soft cotton of his grey shirt against your skin -- the fact that no one knew it belonged to him. It was overwhelming, yet predictable. Confusing, while still one of the clearest things you had ever experienced. Comfortable and serene and simple, foreign and anxious and complex.

Somewhere within your mess of a mind, you were sure of how you felt. You were also sure that it would be either a hopeful bound forward, or a troublesome march down the path of regret.

You hoped for the former.

[yesimwriting]

Anastasia (prologue)

A/n ive been talking about my Anastasia x SOC story for awhile and im finally ready to post the prequel,, ive also been working on some requests and thinking about my next multi-part fic (ive made some posts about it lol)

things to know before reading: i tend to like to make up my own countries when writing these type of politically/plot driven fics that revolve around a royal family bc i think it makes it not only easier to write but less confusing bc it takes out the issue of potentially conflicting with canon, so i made up the country ‘Anastasia’ is from,, this also follows the musical Anastasia a little more bc i feel like that version of the story is more mature and easier to write for SOC (the only difference is that not everyone is happy that Anastasia is alive and someone tries to kill her bc they hate the royal family)

Series Summary: y/n makes an unconventional deal with Kaz to save the life of her best friend. No one’s ever made a deal with the infamous Dirtyhands that resulted in them shedding the title of orphan from a revolution-torn country that can’t remember her life before the orphanage and taking on the title of Princess Anastasia. As time progresses, things are made more complicated as y/n has to deal with royals, revolutionaries, a grisha general who has a lot to gain from an alliance with a princess that doesn’t know what she’s doing, and potential feelings for a conflicted Kaz Brekker that has more to do with Anastasia’s disappearance than he’s ever admitted. 

--

The world seems to be made up impossible things. Each day, people defy odds, strangers fall in love, the universe expands, and the Saints watch it all. I am not the kind of person to sneer at a miracle, to try to explain it away instead of acknowledging it for what it is. 

But what this stranger is proposing is laughable. 

I lean more into the chair, doing all I can to get away from the desk that he sits at. A nervous kind of giggle threatens to escape me, a laugh at the expense of the foolishness of the situation. If his demeanor was any less brooding, I would have already laughed at the irony. Kaz Brekker, the Dirtyhands, creating a ploy so colored by the fairytale notions of dreamers.

The longer I go without reacting, the worse this situation becomes. I haven’t seen Verne since Brekker and his people separated us. I can see the world of torment my eldest friend must be experiencing at this very moment while I sit at this desk. 

“Me?” I’m the most ridiculous part of his plan. He said the only reason me and my partner are still alive is because I fit the general description of the kind of person he needs, and if I’m blackmailed into it he won’t need to waste kruge paying me. “A princess?” 

He blinks, as uninterested and stoic as he’s been since he first ordered me into his office. “A pretend one,” his correction feels like a slight, “a surrogate one.” 

My eyebrows furrow together. “But what--I know the odds of the real Anastasia coming back are beyond slim, but if we’re caught in a lie the Dowager Duchess of Avila will have all of us killed. She may be in Ravka now, and her title nothing more than decorative due to the revolution, but she still has people loyal to her.” 

“Anastasia can’t come back.” The graveness of his voice is so certain a part of me has to wonder if he could have anything to do with her death. I dismiss the thought almost immediately, I don’t know his exact age, but he doesn’t look much older than me. He couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than Anastasia when she died, and she was a child at the time. “No one remains missing that long unless they’re dead.” 

I awkwardly scratch the back of my wrist, “You’re the expert here.” No--I did not just say that out loud. “Sorry--I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Not that thinking it makes it any better, but at least then you wouldn’t know and I’d seem like less of an idiot and I wouldn’t be talking about it right now, and just rambling at a really inconvenient time for me to just...” I cringe slightly, opting to stare at his desk instead of meeting his judgmental gaze. “Sorry, again. Normally Verne is here, and he just kicks me in the shin or something to shut me up.” 

“If you’d like to see what apparently is your only source of impulse control alive and in decent enough condition to kick anything ever again, you’ll agree to what I’m proposing.” 

I straighten my posture slightly, nerves and guilt twisting in my stomach. “I’m going to be as transparent as physically possible.” The warning is for both of us, the urge to hide all my weaknesses bubbling in my chest. “Mr. Brekker.” That’s awkward--what am I supposed to call him? “I’m a university student that’s only in Ketterdam because of an academic scholarship. I’m from somewhere average--I’m not from a place nice enough to give me the manners I’d need to pass as a girl who spent her fundamental years growing up in luxury and I’m not from a place grimy enough to make me a quick enough liar to make up for what I don’t know.” I inhale slowly, ignoring the sting of the flaws I laid out for a cruel stranger. “I’m not particularly graceful or sly or talented in any field that someone like you would value. The closest thing I have to talent involves things that can be tracked on paper. I wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, I was just doing a friend a favor.” 

“You claim that you’re not a decent liar or a thief and yet your closest friend is one who believed himself talented enough to challenge me?” 

I resist the urge to shrink back into my seat. “This is Ketterdam, you try finding someone that doesn’t dabble in crime and ambition.” He does’t reply to my retort, which I think means I won. “Cards on the table, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save Verne, but you don’t want me for something like this.” 

He pauses, jaw locked and eyes too stony for me to interpret. “Every flaw you just pointed out, every reason you think makes you unfit for this job, is exactly the reason I’m offering you this.” I keep a thousand questions to myself as I wait for him to continue. “Those used to lying lack the warmth that will be needed to sell this. The Dowager Duchess is a grandmother first when it comes to Anastasia, that’s why she’s offering so much gold. She, and the rest of the royals that desire to know what happened to Anastasia, want to believe the story I’m telling. If you present yourself as someone real and warm and you understand table manners enough to not disturb the serene picture they want, they’ll squint at ugly details until they disappear.” 

Wow. I know that he’s intelligent, but what he’s constructing is so much more bullet proof than I thought it’d be. “I’ll admit you’ve constructed an airtight narrative.” 

I know my approval means nothing to him, but it’s the most agreeable I’m willing to be. “A narrative the background you told me of fits perfectly.” I shouldn’t have answered all those questions he asked me earlier so honestly. “A child born in Avila who was sent to a Kerch orphanage due to a war-relief effort during the revolution. A faceless orphan who was found during the height of the revolution with no memory of anything before the morning she woke up in a hospital cot.” 

I say nothing. My skin burns in protest of someone knowing so much about me. He must take my silence as a sign of me teetering the line away from what he wants, because he then says, “your friend is fortunate, if things aligned a little less perfectly he’d be dead already.” 

Dead already. The words elate my heart in a way that pinches. He’s still alive. Verne is alive. “If I agree, you let me see him and then you let him go.” 

“If you need a contract to believe me, I can have that arranged.” The words have an almost mocking edge. I guess it’d be a little ridiculous to get an official contract drawn up for something so small. “If you at any point change your mind, I’ll do the same.” 

The threat is clear. I back out and Verne pays for it in blood. Verne’s safety is once again in my hand. This situation is much more precarious than Kaz Brekker wants it to seem. “You need me to do something that will literally last the rest of my life. Tiaras aren’t something you can slip in and out of.” 

“Yes, I’m forcing you to give up a life in the slums for a palace for your friend’s life. This must be a difficult choice for you.” 

I look down to avoid rolling my eyes. “It’s still permanent, and it’s large because at any point I could reveal the truth and take you down with me.” 

“Remember who you speak to.” His voice has turned to pure darkness. 

Don’t wince. Don’t wince. Don’t wince. “All I’m saying is that you’ve offered Verne’s life to buy my cooperation, but you have yet to mention the cost of my silence.”

His expression is sharp enough to draw blood. “The Dowager Duchess is old and sick, wait at most two years and you’ll have more gold than you could ever spend. The revolution took that family’s power, not the wealth the Duchess took with her to Ravka the night of the massacre.” 

I shift awkwardly. “I’m not trying to get kruge from you for me.” I fold my hands neatly on my lap to avoid fidgeting. “Verne--he’s beyond desperate for kruge, that’s why he risked angering you.” The urge to shy away threatens to break my resolve. I think of all the times Verne has saved me. “Let him keep what he tried to take.” The request is awkward from my lips. I’m asking for more when I should should be grateful any type of mercy came from him. Any type of offer. “Half. Let him keep half.” 

He’s silent for a long moment, weighing the implications of loss. “You’re already entitled enough to pass for royalty.” I don’t let myself shrink. “Deal, but not because you threatened me--try that again and you’ll find yourself wishing you had never left the orphanage you came from.” The relief is practically crushing. Verne is going to be okay. He’s going to live and my resistance earned him enough kruge to have a week or two without worry as he plans what he’ll do in my absence. “You better be as good a study as you made yourself seem to be.” 

I don’t understand the second threat. “Studying?” 

“You didn’t think you could wander into the Dowager Duchess’s home, use the excuse of amnesia to explain why you don’t even know your own mother’s name, and expect them to think you more than an Avilan orphan with a desire for wealth.” 

“I actually don’t know my own mother’s name because of amnesia.” 

He’s in no mood to be contradicted, glowering sharply, “not anymore, anything that doesn’t fit the narrative I’m constructing is no longer true.” He straightens slightly as he begins to pace away from me. “You’ll have five minutes with your friend and then we’ll see where your table manners are at. I know someone who knows enough to correct you.” 

I try to picture where someone like him would meet someone that knows about etiquette. My mind provides nothing useful, but it doesn’t matter--I’ve agreed. It can’t be undone, not without having the blood of my dearest friend on my hands. 

[doctors-star]

hi its me im back again #43 for lister/rimmer? (a non-cowboy alternative)

“I’ve never met a more stubborn person in my life.” “You like it.” “Do I?”

-

Lister taps his fingers against the iron girder. It’s painted the same red as the Dwarf, but chipping and loose - probably also like the Dwarf, only he’s not been out to have a gander in a while. Always seems to be something else to do these days.

He sighs heavily. Picks a flake of paint loose. Resists the urge to fidget.

“I spy-”

“Oh, Christ, we’re not that bored already are we?” Rimmer whines, and Lister allows his head to loll to his right. It puts his face within inches of Rimmer’s cheek, and though it makes him go a little cross-eyed to do so he can clearly see that yes, Rimmer is that bored.

“Well, we’re trapped for the foreseeable future in a pile of rubble and girders in an abandoned derelict, with no comms and no hope of rescue until Krytes and Cat can be bothered to come lookin’,” Lister points out calmly. “We can play fortunately-unfortunately instead if you want, but I don’t think this is going to get less boring quickly.”

Rimmer sniffs and glowers at the ceiling of their weird rubble igloo. It had, of course, been heart-stoppingly terrifying for a while; Lister had smacked the door release idly with the side of his fist, the doors had opened, and he and Rimmer had entered, bickering all the while so enthusiastically that what had happened after that was still a mystery to Lister. The upshot, crucially, had been that the ceiling had fallen in in a shower of sparks and trailing wires and laid them both out flat under slabs of metal panelling, chunks of what looked like concrete, and a few girders for colour. One is neatly pinning Lister’s hips to the floor, there’s a large amount of concrete on his ankles, and Rimmer is buried in metal sheeting up to his sternum, but on the bright side they can both breathe and nothing seems to be broken. Not that Rimmer could break, anyway, being as he is entirely made of solid light.

This had not stopped Lister from being apocalyptically terrified for a good thirty seconds after impact.

“Is it rubble?” Rimmer asks at last, with a tone of deep dissatisfaction.

“I didn’t even tell you the first letter,” Lister says, trying not to grin at Rimmer.

Rimmer shifts his head to gaze, unimpressed, at Lister.

“It was, though, yeah.”

Rimmer looks as though he wants to laugh, and also to despair of him; it makes his face twitch like a ferret in a sack. Lister presses forward an inch to drop a kiss on the end of his nose, because that usually makes the twitching worse. “Menace,” Rimmer says, flinching back to glare, cross-eyed, down his nose at Lister. But, you know, affectionately. Lister beams. “I can’t believe we’re stuck here waiting for two mentally-incompetents to rescue us,” Rimmer sighs. He fidgets his shoulders, shifting the panelling, and winces.

“Stop moving, man,” Lister says in a voice which he hopes is calming.

It isn’t; Rimmer thrashes about a bit like he’s being electrocuted, which makes the whole rubble pile shake in a deeply worrying fashion. He does, however, manage to work his left arm free and shake it triumphantly in the air. “Dead arm,” he says in explanation - and then, very casually, so subtly that the motion occurs in neon with bells on, he rests the hand on top of Lister’s girder. Next to Lister’s fingers. And then Rimmer doesn’t look at his hand, the girder, or in Lister’s direction at all, so Lister takes the hint.

“Dead everything, mate,” he says helpfully, sliding his fingers under Rimmer’s palm and giving his hand a squeeze. Rimmer’s frame relaxes ever so slightly, as though that threatened slight rejection had worried him more than the whole mild peril of their situation. Neurotic bastard. “Speaking of,” Lister adds, rubbing his thumb over the back of Rimmer’s hand, “you don’t have to wait for Kryten and Cat. You could go softlight, wriggle on out, and go get ‘em.”

Rimmer’s hand tightens briefly on his before carefully relaxing. “No-o,” he says with forced casualness, “I’ll wait.”

Lister nods. “Very helpful. You just wait here to avoid the walk. Can’t have you tirin’ yourself out. If I starve to death, I want the lightbee every two weeks, alright?”

“I am not arranging a timeshare with our afterlife!” Rimmer objects sharply.

“You smegging well are,” Lister corrects cheerfully. “If you kill me through inaction, you owe me at least some of your time. You promised, remember-” he says smugly, pressing as close as he can until his nose is pressed into Rimmer’s cheekbone. “Spend the rest of our time together, forever-”

“Exactly,” Rimmer sputters, face turning a very impressive red at the reference to their little...agreement. “Together - which we won’t be, if only one of us exists at a time.”

“You’d better go an’ fetch us some rescue then, eh?” Lister says, smiling into Rimmer’s jaw to make him squirm. “Or else.”

He can feel the muscles in Rimmer’s face twitch slightly with the effort not to turn into Lister’s ministrations and give up on the argument - only that would mean losing said argument, and that usually requires more attention than Lister can give with his body pinned to the floor. By something that isn’t Rimmer, that is. “Ah, but you said we’d stay together,” Rimmer points out firmly, voice only ticking up half an octave when Lister starts kissing at the hinge of his jaw. “Death do us part, you said.”

Lister grins and picks up their joined hands, nudging them towards the small gap in the ceiling that a lightbee, and corresponding intangible human shape, could easily fit through. “An’ you’ve already kicked it, so off you pop,” he says brightly.

Rimmer sputters indignantly for a bit, but makes no move. After a moment, the grumbling resumes, and Lister can’t help a sigh. “Where are those two, anyway? Even they ought to have noticed by now-”

“Rimmer, mate you literally don’t need to be here,” Lister says, impatience bleeding into his tone as he pulls back slightly. He doesn’t miss how Rimmer shifts minutely into his space before reversing quickly.

“Well, I’m not going,” Rimmer says, fingers tightening around Lister’s.

He shakes his head and lies back, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve never met a more stubborn person in my life,” he says.

“You like it,” Rimmer retorts immediately.

“Do I?” he replies, voice tired and dry. But he rolls his head back to face Rimmer. He knows Rimmer better than anyone in the entire universe; of course he had caught the wheedling note in Rimmer’s voice, the flash of insecurity, the minute increase in the grip on his hand. And sure enough, Rimmer’s eyes are wide and slightly worried, and then his face turns quickly away, schooled into something snide. He wishes Rimmer wouldn’t do that; has no hope that he’ll ever stop. Lister picks up their joined hands and gently knocks their knuckles against the girder three times. “Well, it’s still annoying,” he says eventually. “But as long as I don’t starve here, I’d still rather have you with me than not. So.”

Rimmer waves a hand idly. “Eat your own leg, or something.”

Lister gives him a thumbs-up. “Will do.”

They lie quietly for a while, listening to the rubble creak and groan, and to a mysterious dripping sound which, every third drop, fizzes with a decidedly electrical sound. There’s a lump of something digging into his spine, and his foot is rapidly going numb, but Rimmer’s hand is pleasantly warm and solid in his own, his breathing regular and steady in the half-light, and it is - god help his standards for living - not half bad. Lister is, despite himself, quite glad that Rimmer is more stubborn than a bull-headed pig when he wants to be.

He’s glad, too, to be something Rimmer gets so stubborn over.

He is quite bored, though.

“I spy-” he begins again.

“It’s girder this time, I know it,” Rimmer says quickly. “I am not playing this with you.” Lister closes his mouth. “It was panel, actually - and look, what do you want to do? Arguing didn’t take up as much time as I had hoped-”

“You picked a fight to pass the time?!”

“Yeah, only, it was a really rubbish argument. Unfortunately.”

“Well,” Rimmer says, sounding as self-important as a man can when being crushed by sheets of metal, “fortunately, we love each other far too well to ever argue.”

“Unfortunately,” Lister says, grinning at the barefaced lie, “no-one with an IQ over seven would believe that.”

“Fortunately, I know my audience,” Rimmer says smugly, eyes dancing and smile so cheerfully obnoxious that Lister has to laugh, he just has to, not least for the way it makes Rimmer’s whole face soften into something gentler, and more fond.

He squeezes Rimmer’s hand and feels it squeeze back. “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with him,” he murmurs, eyes dropping helplessly to Rimmer’s lips.

Rimmer smiles, small and genuine. “I’ll survive,” he says.

[mikrowrites]

apple pie kind of life

dean winchester x reader

SORTA SEASON 15 FINALE SPOILERS!!!

summary: told in a series of vignettes, Dean and Y/N get to live a semi-normal life and most importantly, get their happy ending.

warnings: literally just fluff and slice of life, language, recreational drinking :), mild canon violence

a/n: this literally jumps all around the timeline. it’s also just me self-indulgently fixing what’s broken lmao

a/n: so these are just a bunch of events, in no chronological order whatsoever! enjoy!!

At 8:00 AM sharp, the sound of two alarm clocks went off in the bunker.

Y/N L/N reached over, hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock as she yawned, sitting up. She combed her hands through her messy bed head, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

Suddenly two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling Y/N back down onto the bed, the woman letting out a squeal before she laughed softly.

“Ten more minutes...” Dean Winchester grumbled, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder, his stubble tickling her skin.

She huffed with laughter, interlacing one of her hands with his. “Ten minutes, then we face the music, yeah?”

Dean mumbled a “mm-hm” in response, pulling Y/N in closer.

The woman smiled, burrowing into his hold as they laid peacefully together, tangled in blankets and sheets.

—

“Oh my god. You suck at this.” Y/N scrunched her nose, watching as Dean stood steadily on the ladder, stringing the multicolored lights on the gutter.

“You wanna keep trashing my light-hanging skills?” Dean shouted over his shoulder. “Do you want to do it?”

“Nah,” Y/N smirked, biting her bottom lip. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

Dean rolled his eyes with a smile, continuing the strenuous task of hanging Christmas lights on their small house. Y/N watched from below, bundled into a winter coat, smiling up at her husband.

“You know, on second thought, maybe we should’ve just done white lights.” Y/N mused.

Dean turned and looked at his wife with raised eyebrows. He slowly made his way down and off the ladder, before grabbing a ball of snow and throwing it at her.

Y/N gasped as her jaw dropped in shock, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s on motherfucker!”

The two ran around the yard, dodging snowballs from each other, laughing like little kids. Miracle barked from the fenced backyard, adding to the chaotic scene. Y/N ran towards Dean, tackling him into the snow as she shoved more of the cold substance down the back of his coat.

“Okay, I surrender, I surrender!” Dean yelled, Y/N stopping as she smiled down at him.

“And victory is sweet.” She sang before leaning down and kissing him. Dean smiled against her lips, reaching behind him and bringing a ball of snow down over her head.

Y/N broke away from the kiss, sitting up and laughing loudly. Dean grinned, her laughs being the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. She stood up, holding out her hand. He took it, Y/N helping to hoist him up.

“Look at us. We’re a mess.” Y/N chuckled.

“I think maybe a nice hot shower should fix it right up.” Dean mischievously replied.

Y/N smiled. “I think that should do, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean smirked as Y/N grasped his hand, pulling him towards the house.

“Lead the way, Mrs. Winchester.”

—

The old barn was filled with the sound of struggle and fighting as the Winchesters and Y/N fought off the group of vamps.

Y/N shoved the vamp off of her, slicing off it’s head and spinning, elbowing another in the chest.

She saw Dean wrestling with a vamp, Y/N reaching for something in her jacket pocket. The creature tried to shove Dean against a wooden beam, but before it could its head was sliced clean off. The man looked at the vamp confused before looking over at his girlfriend standing about 10 feet away.

Y/N dropped her jaw in utter joy, reaching into her pocket again and producing another ninja star from between her fingers. Sam killed the last vamp, turning to look at the woman. “Really?”

Dean’s face shifted to a look of awe. “I love you so much right know.”

Y/N winked at her boyfriend, pocketing the ninja star. “Love you too. Now let’s go get those kids to safety.”

The woman went to go get the two kids, Dean and Sam turning to look at each other. The older brother sighed. “Should’ve let me use the ninja stars.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

—

Y/N pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side as she surveyed the room. She narrowed her eyes for a moment in thought before picking up a roller paintbrush and a can of paint, as she began to roll paint onto the walls.

She was about halfway through painting the room when she heard the front door shut, the familiar sound of her husband throwing his keys on the counter ringing through the house. “Hey, I’m home!” he shouted.

Y/N wiped her paint covered hands on her old overalls, walking out of the room to greet Dean. “Hey, De.”

“Woah, what have you been doing?” Dean questioned, Y/N walking up and sneaking a kiss from him before answering.

“Painting. Had to get done at some point. I promise, I’m not going crazy on it. I picked the mint color, it’s cute.” Y/N nonchalantly replied.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Without me? Without anyone in the house?”

Y/N shrugged. “No, I had Miracle here with me. So?”

“Honey, you’re pregnant.” Dean reasoned.

“And I’m immediately helpless?” Y/N put her hands on her hips, smiling teasingly. “I’m fine.”

Dean huffed out a sigh, Y/N chuckling. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands resting on the nape of his neck. Dean placed his hands on both sides of her slightly swollen belly. “Everything’s fine.”

“I know.” Dean finally relented, kissing the top of her head before scrunching his face in disgust. “Gross, you have paint in your hair.”

“Aw, that’s the sweetest compliment you’ve ever given me.” Y/N smiled. Dean rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“I’ll change and help finish painting.” He replied, pulling away and shrugging off his jacket.

Y/N nodded in satisfaction, turning to walk back into the room. Dean watched her leave, a loving smile traced onto his lips. He shook his head with a chuckle, trying to reason how he became such a cheesy-ass husband.

—

Sam walked over to the table, handing a beer to Y/N. She tipped the bottle towards him in thanks before taking a swig. The tall brunette sat across from her, sighing.

“So are you gonna do it?”

Y/N choked on her booze a bit, clearing her throat as she sat up, looking around to be sure Dean wasn’t near. “Sammy!”

“What? We won. We can write our own lives now, what are you waiting for?” Sam chuckled.

Y/N sat her beer on the table, frowning. “I just—Dean’s not the kind of guy for domesticity and such. I don’t really think he’s a marriage kind of guy.”

“You won’t know unless you actually talk to him.” Sam urged.

She exhaled, sitting back in her seat. “Look. After this hunt I’ll talk to him.”

“Atta girl.” Sam teased, Y/N rolling her eyes with a smile.

“Besides, if I pop the question first it’ll bruise his big boy ego.”

Sam raised his bottle. “To bruising my brother’s ego with love.”

“Cheers.” Y/N grinned, clinking her bottle with his.

Dean watched the two most important people in his life drink their booze, smiling and laughing. A soft smirk formed, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the velvet ring box with his mother’s ring rested neatly in it. After a beat Dean placed it back in his pocket, walking into the library.

“Hey, no booze for me?”

—

Y/N gripped Dean’s hand, grinning as they looked back at the officiant. He wore one of his fake FBI suits as she wore a white dress shirt with black dress pants.

She turned to look again at Dean, raising her eyebrows teasingly. “I do.”

“By the power vested in me by the city of Las Vegas, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The man stated. “You may k—“

Before the officiant could finish Dean wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist, dipping her back and kissing her deeply.

She melted into the kiss, bracing her hand on his back. Sam whooped and hollered from the front pew, Eileen clapping her hands with a wide smile.

The two pulled away, Dean holding Y/N close as the two laughed, Y/N’s cheek pressed against Dean’s. Cas smiled fondly at the two, the light catching the gleam of Y/N’s ring.

The officiant shook his head in amusement, clearing his throat.

“I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester!”

—

Dean stepped inside the house, pulling a trailing Y/N in by the hand. He led her into the empty living room, grabbing both her hands and raising his eyebrows. “So?”

“So...” Y/N mused, looking around the small house. “... it’s kinda... perfect.”

The green-eyed man smiled, looking around. “It’s not suburbia, not big and fancy, it’s just—“

“It’s just a home.” She finished for him. “Yeah.”

Dean chuckled. “It’s a home.”

Y/N looked around. “Dee, there’s no way we could even afford this. My bartending and your side jobs, we couldn’t—“

“I talked to Sam. He’d help us work out how to do a loan. We could pay it off.” The man insisted.

She sighed, pouting her lips. “I do really love this house... do you think...?”

“We have a meeting with the realtor tomorrow at 3.” Dean finished her sentence.

Y/N nodded, exhaling deeply.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

—

Y/N ran the rag across the counter, smiling up at her husband who was talking up some of their customers with his ever-so-charming smirk. Soft music emitted from the jukebox in the corner, the lights lowered slightly for the ambiance.

The bar had been a labor of love for Dean and Y/N. They both had bartending experience, and after all, it was secretly always a dream of the hunter’s to open a place like this. It took many years, but they were up and running.

Eileen walked over to the counter, Y/N grinning at her sister in law. The brunette smiled back. “Mary doing well?”

Y/N chuckled at the thought of her three-year-old, throwing the rag under the counter. “Sleeping like a rock upstairs.” Y/N spoke while signing with her hands.

“Dean seems happy. Really happy. More than I’ve ever seen.” Eileen remarked.

“Yeah.” Y/N made eye contact with her husband, who threw her a dazzling smile. “He really is.”

—

Loud cries and wails echoed down the hallway as Y/N let out a loud groan. She reached over and checked the time on her phone. 1:34 AM. Y/N dramatically thrust her face into her pillow smacking her husband’s chest with her hand.

“It’s your turn.” Y/N’s muffled voice stated.

Dean chuckled lowly, sitting up and kissing the back of Y/N’s head before crawling out of bed. The woman turned and watched him leave the room, her eyelids fluttering shut as sleep overcame her again.

The man walked towards the crying, gently opening the door to the nursery. Dean approached the crib, reaching in and gathering his 3 month old daughter into his arms.

“Hey, Mary Jo.” He hushed. “You might wanna lower the volume a bit, I think your mommy’s considering adoption.”

The baby’s wails turned into soft wimpers until she fell silent, Dean exhaling in relief.

“I was kidding about the adoption thing, by the way.” He made his way over to the window, looking out it. “Did you have a nightmare? Yeah, mommy and I have them too. Pretty often.”

Dean lightly rubbed his daughter’s back, sighing. “One day, when you’re much older, the nightmares will never stop. You’ll learn about every nightmare out there. But we’ll be here to show you how to defeat them. We’ll teach you how to protect yourself from them. But don’t go chasing the nightmares. Learn to keep them away.”

He was quiet for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head. “I still chase nightmares. And I hope, I pray to Jack you never do.”

—

[dokifluffs]

Not the End | Kuroo Tetsuro

Pairing: Kuroo x Reader (female)

Genre: heart warming fluff tehe

Author’s Note: Literally one of my most favorite things I have ever written so I really hope you guys like it too~!! 🥺🥰🥰time to embrace canon kuroo and make more fluff, even if it means breaking a 4th wall or 5th wall- dedicated to haikyuu, thank you for everything

He knocked repeatedly on the door as clouds casted by in the sky, blocking out the sweltering summer sun

He wore a white oversized t-shirt with the periodic table on it and black jeans

“Where is she?” He thought to himself as he spammed your doorbell, hearing the chime echo inside yet there was no movement to be seen

He glanced at his watch seeing the time

He fortunately came early but if you didn’t come out now, the window of extra time would be shutting

He was growing just the tiniest bit antsy since he had been dreaming about this date for so long and now that it was summer and volleyball was over, he had the time

Tickets were hard to get for these museums he had planned and he had a whole day planned down to every hour

It was early in summer so it was perfect, not too scorching hot

He couldn’t wait anymore and pulled out your spare key from your flowerpot, putting it back neatly as if it was never touched

“Y/N?” He called, his strong voice echoing into what seemed like an empty house

He slipped out of his shoes and made his way upstairs, almost always finding you there if you never answered the door, his calls, or anything

Your bedroom was like your sanctum having all that you needed- an air con fan, tv, surround sound, and most importantly, your bed that you had all to yourself

approaching your bedroom, the door cracked open, he could hear the faintest sound of music playing 

“Oya?” He knocked on your bedroom door as he pushed it open, relieved to find you

But he didn’t know how to feel seeing you curled up wearing his stolen hoodie, still in bed when you knew about the time for today’s events

“Hey, what’s up? We have to get to the station-“ he paused when he saw you look up to him, uncurling your face from your pillow

Your eyes were red and cheeks tear stained, matching your pillow cover that you hugged

“K-Kuroo...” you sobbed, inching yourself in your little ball form toward him as he sat on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight

“W-what is it?” He was surprised as you laid your head on his lap

His mind went frantic as he went through your messages in his head, trying to remember if it was a certain day he missed- it wasn’t anyone that he knew of’s birthday, not an anniversary date or anything

Why were you so heartbroken?

Your eyes glistened from the sunlight in the room as you teared up once again, little wet drops forming on his jeans

“R-remember that manga and anime I was watching?” You sniffled as you sat up, your pillow in your lap and your fingers playing with the hem of it. “The volleyball one?”

“Yeah, did a character die or something?” He tried to make light of the situation and it worked, just the slightest but your emotions were getting the best of you

“No, but the last chapter of the manga came out…” tears dripped off your chin as you swallowed a hardened lump in your throat, the words aching as you spoke

listening carefully, he could hear you were listening to a slowed down version of one of the opening themes- he only knew this because of how many times you would put on the themes while riding in the car

but this was the slowed down version, or as you called it the “moonlight version,” and it was setting the mood for you, making you more sad 

Kuroo remembered the day back in junior high/ end of grade school when you started following this manga about volleyball

“You need to stop listening to this, it’s just making you sadder,” he laughed awkwardly, pausing the song that was playing on loop. he knew this volleyball anime/manga meant the world to you, but not like this 

Your eyes lit up when you read or talked about it to him and he asked you why not play for the girls’ team but you settled on being the manager for Nekoma instead, wanting to cheer them on and also being with kuroo and kenma and all your other close friends on the team 

It made him feel like you loved the show and manga more than him sometimes and it kinda hurt since they were fictional characters and he was your boyfriend, a real life actual volleyball player

“All the characters got their story, they grew above and beyond, and the main character was finally able to make it to the world stage with his partner from the high school team and- “ your voice cracked as you spoke, the wound reopening, fresh in your chest as everything you read, everything you watched, all the glorious moments came rushing through your mind

Everything you fell in love with for the past eight years came rushing back and you loved it all so much, it made you so warm but it also hurt thinking about how there wouldn’t be any more to it

You wanted to curl into a hole and rewatch and reread everything as much as you could

No more chapters, most likely no more official arts- all you had left was the animated show that would be continuing and finishing in a couple months

“Kuroo, I don’t want it to end,” you sobbed, your hair falling, hiding your face

He didn’t miss how your knuckles turned white as you gripping your pillow, only able to imagine the heartache you were feeling

he knew very well how much this all meant to you, all the rants and extensive conversations you had with him, begging him to watch the show- especially because of a bed headed character that was just like him 

you reminded him so much of kenma- you talked, read, and watched everything about this story like kenma when he got a new game or was watching hinata play volleyball

You want to see more, hear more of the voice actors, the characters growing. You want to be beside all of them and see their story to the very end

All the antics between the characters that made you break into a smile or fits of giggles, all the cheers made for the different teams in your manga/anime- all were so addicting

“Hey, shhh,” he pulled you gently into his embrace, one hand holding the back of your head, the other rubbing down your back. “I know you don’t but all good things must come to an end, right?”  

He glanced at his watch just the slightest bit, seeing the time, relieved to know he still had enough

“Look on the bright side; you were able to read and watch it while it was still being made, you got to anticipate the next chapter and episode, seeing all the characters develop and become great people who’ve had such a great impact on your life.”

He pulled you back and wiped your tears away on your cheek

“This may be the end of the story, but it’s not the end for you; everything will live on inside of you, right?” He held your face in his hands, making sure his words got to you

“It won’t be the end of your life, or any of your favorite characters’. The story you were presented with came to an end but their lives are still going, just like yours.”

You buried yourself into his arms, muffling your cries into his neck as he chuckled, holding you

“Come on, get dressed and I’ll make sure all this sadness you’re feeling will go away. I’ll be the wind that’ll shift the storm cloud brewing above your head,” he stood up, still holding you and setting your feet on the ground

“I won’t let you be sad, not on my watch, chibi-chan,” he looked down to you with a smile as he pat your head. “Your body won’t even realize L-trytophan’s being converted into L-5OH-trytophan, converting serotonin by an aromatic L-amino acid decarboxylase.”

The gawk you had made him let out his hyena laugh, just hurting his pride ever so slightly that he had made one of the smoothest lines in love-history and you didn’t even swoon

“I’m gonna make happy chemical in your body make your heart go doki doki,” he put simply to which you nodded, breaking in to a laugh, calling him a nerd under your breath as you changed

But he was your nerd, and he was right 

No matter where you were in life, you got to have this special manga and story in your life and experience it first-hand whereas others were missing it

Everyone lives on, even if you can’t see them

Thank you, Furudate, for bringing Haikyuu into this world <3

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @sam-ate-giorno​​​ @1-800-wholesome​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan

[bettertomorrows-ao3]

Are You My Mother?

Ellie is frantic. Dina is amused. JJ has some questions.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

Tags: Post-Game, Family Fluff Rating: Teen for language

EllieDina Week // Day 4 // FAMILY

---

It’s almost sundown when Ellie gets a visitor at work.

Her office is a medium-sized shack located near the stables of the main gate, a perfect place to house all the paperwork she needs in order to facilitate her new role as the patrol manager. Ellie had originally argued with Maria that the chore didn’t even exist, that it seemed like a feeble arrangement to give her a task somewhat similar to what she was used to just so she could still feel useful around town.

Maria admitted to some truth to Ellie’s point, but she also insisted that she would love for Ellie to start learning to ropes of leading the town. There was a buried emphasis in her request that suggested Maria only trusted Ellie to be the one to succeed her role in the future. That Ellie was already deeply embedded in the tangled mess of a family the Miller brothers left them with—and implication was what led Ellie to accept the job on the spot.

Managing patrol rotations is not the laid-back kind of job Ellie thought it would be.

It’s far more stressful than what Maria initially described it would be, but it’s a task that keeps her on her toes on a daily basis. It was hard to believe it at first, but rescheduling patrol rotations sometimes felt like hugging an exploding bloater. Not to mention how balancing patrollers with the right partners oftentimes resembled the act of gathering sheep into a barn. One wrong move, and a stray could lead the pack in the wrong direction.

Jackson’s townsfolk always knew she would have the job in the future, anyway. There was a tacit understanding that regardless of the complications of their familial relations, Maria’s niece would one day take over the duty of leading Jackson. It was never a question of whether it would ever happen, but more of when Ellie would feel comfortable to take on these responsibilities.

It came as a surprise to those who personally knew her—that Ellie would start making her way up before she was even in her thirties. Most of them thought they would have to wrench a 100-year-old Ellie away from patrolling duties, so to have her willingly take a job inside Jackson’s walls was a bit unnerving.

The desk job isn’t as exciting, but it’s definitely enough work to keep her busy throughout the week. Her favourite part of the job was toward the end of the day. When her last task was to wait for the afternoon patrols to come back home, and she spent the time quietly drafting ways to adjust routes for possible expansions to the town. Nothing felt better than to wrap up a workday with a glint of hope for a better future for her son.

Ellie is knee deep in concentration, head down studying a map and ready to sketch out a new patrol route when a knock on the door breaks her focus. It’s Andres, Dina’s new apprentice at the electric shop, a gangly young man whose family recently moved to Jackson. His presence immediately makes Ellie panic. They’ve only met three times since Dina hired him, and their interactions have been cordial at best. So, what else could warrant his appearance at her office at the end of the day if it weren’t for something urgent?

“Hey, uh… Ellie. A-are you busy?” he croaks out, Ellie can tell he’s nervous, but what for she’s not sure yet.

“Andres, right?” she asks hoping to calm his nerves even though she knows exactly who he is, “what’s up?”

“D-dina sent me t-to tell you to please… go to her house as soon as pos-possible once you’re finished with work,” Andres stutters out, making Ellie all the more concerned.

Ellie stands up from her desk and promptly grabs her coat from the chair, “did something happen? Is she hurt? Is JJ okay?”

She tries to calm herself enough to hear a response from him. Whatever it was must have not been too terrible, because if something dire had indeed happened to her family, there is no way Maria would have sent this semi-stranger to send the news.

“Oh! I don’t—um…” the young man stutters and brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck, “she didn’t say. I’m just a messenger.”

With her jacket half worn on her back, Ellie looks down to the scattered papers on the desk and then to the clock on the wall. She only had 30 minutes left before the last patrol shift returned and reported back to her. Ellie was not one to ever leave her post early, but she was unfortunately not immune to whatever nervous energy Andres passed on to her.

The whole situation was terrifyingly curious, and she had to get to her family to find out what was happening. Ellie scribbles a note on a torn piece of paper, neatly folds it, and hands it to noticeably anxious Andres.

“Since you’re a messenger and all… can you quickly send this to Maria for me, please?”

**

Ellie tries not to sprint to Dina’s house. She doesn’t want to alarm anybody in town, so she ends up speed walking instead. In hindsight, sprinting would have probably looked way less ridiculous than the quick shimmy her hips do when she makes herself walk fast.

The thought comes too late. Dina’s house is already in view when she decides to run the rest of the way.

Ellie pauses on the porch to catch her breath. She knocks on the door twice before she curses to herself. Why is she knocking when she has a key to the door? Ellie digs in her pockets for the familiar shape of the metal when the door swings wide open.

“Did you forget your key again?”

Ellie looks up and releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Dina is leaning on the door frame with a smirk on her face. She looks perfect as ever and all Ellie can’t stop herself from hugging her right away. Relief floods her senses when she feels Dina reciprocate, her arms wrapping tightly around Ellie’s waist.

“Are you fine? Like, you’re not hurt?” Ellie whispers into her ear.

“Yes? Is this a trick question? Why?” Dina is puzzled by Ellie’s panic-stricken face and leads them into the house.

“Andres said I had to come home, and he was all nervous and twitchy, so I freaked out and kind of ran here,” Ellie admits before adding, “wait, what about JJ? Is he safe too?”

Dina eyes Ellie as if gauging to see if she was being pranked. When she realizes that Ellie was serious, she laughs and gives Ellie a quick peck on the lips.

“JJ’s upstairs doing homework, but babe, you do know Andres has a speech impediment, right? Like, it’s a medical condition, it doesn’t mean he’s actually nervous,” Dina chuckles when Ellie finally realizes that there was actually nothing to worry about.

“A speech impediment? You mean to say I got nervous for nothing?” Ellie takes a step back to shrug her jacket off her shoulders.

“Mhm,” Dina agrees, and takes Ellie’s jacket to hang on the coat rack by the door.

“So, what was so urgent you sent you lackey out to fetch me?” Ellie tilts her head to the side, still so apparently confused by everything.

“Well… your son—” Dina starts but Ellie interrupts her.

“Oh no. What did he do?”

Dina points up to the stairs, “your son picked a fight at school today.”

Ellie’s eyes bulge out in amazement, “Potato picked a fight? But… he’s only five years old!”

“That’s what I thought!” Dina shrugs, “but then I remembered who his parents are and then I realized that the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Holy fuck, you didn’t not just say that,” Ellie laughs.

“I literally just sounded like my mother,” Dina groans.

“Seriously, though,” Ellie asks, treading carefully but not without a smirk on her lips, “why did he get in a fight in the first place? Because questionable parents aside, he’s practically an angel!”

Dina sighs and leans forward letting Ellie hold her once again, “he said he doesn’t want to talk about it. Only that he wants to ask you something important.”

Ellie glances up toward the stairs wondering what their son could possibly want to ask her. She wonders what kind of demon would have likely possessed their sweet little spud to attack another student at school. The worst part is not even knowing how to explain to their son about not resorting to violence when the world they lived in required such actions to survive.

Despite the severity of the situation, Ellie couldn’t help but to joke, “if he wants to learn how to punch better, he’s asking for the wrong mom.”

The comment earns Ellie a light jab to the chest from Dina.

“Oof. Way to prove my point, babe.” Ellie shakes her head and grabs Dina’s hand to lead them upstairs to JJ’s room.

They share a look understanding that whatever JJ wanted to talk to Ellie about, they all had to do it as a family.

**

Ellie enters JJ’s room first. They find him slumped and sitting cross-legged on his big boy bed. Ollie is on his lap, and they seemed to have interrupted a silent conversation between JJ and his beloved toy. Ellie slowly makes her way to sit on the edge of the bed leaving Dina behind to lean on the doorframe. Their family was complete, but they still wished to respect JJ’s request to only talk to Ellie.

“Hey, bud. I heard what happened at school today. Wanna tell me about it?”

JJ sinks further into his bed and fiddles with Ollie in his hands. He hesitantly looks up and whispers, “do you love me?”

The question baffles Ellie and feels her heart breaking at sound of doubt in her son’s voice. She is more than a little concerned that her son somehow thinks there is a universe in which she could possibly stop loving him. She immediately scoots closer to him and wraps him tightly in her arms.

“Of course, I do, Spud. What makes you think I don’t?” Ellie eyes Dina by the door making a speechless plea for some comfort on her part. Dina only nods her head, assuring her that she is doing all right.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

“What? Who the fuck is Max?” Ellie growls making JJ flinch under her grasp.

Ellie has a sudden urge to hunt down this Max to teach a lesson about not meddling in other people’s business. Dina loudly clears her throat as if to remind Ellie that she is veering off track. Ellie has to remind herself that children can be unconsciously callous and that whoever this kid was probably didn’t mean any harm, and most likely doesn’t know any better.

“Are you angry with me?” JJ asks her and slithers out of her arms.

Ellie is reluctant to let him go and only does when Dina approaches them to sit next to her.

“Mom is not angry with you, Tater,” Dina speaks up, “she has her thinking face on.”

JJ pokes Ellie on the cheek as testing to see if his mom would notice. Ellie fails to hide the smile that emerges on her face. She kisses JJ on the head and comes up with a way to explain the dynamics of their family to a five-year-old.

“Do you remember the book I read to you the other night about the lost bird asking the dog if she’s his mother?” he nods and she continues, “well, our family is kind of like that. You have momma, and you have me. And just because we don’t look alike, it doesn’t mean that I’m any less your mom than momma is to you. Do you understand?”

The truth is that the allusion to the old story isn’t quite fitting to their situation, but Ellie hopes that it is basic enough for their little boy to understand the way their family works.

“You’re the dog and me and momma are birds, and you love us anyway?” he asks so innocently she and Dina can’t help but to laugh.

“I love you always no matter what other people say, Spud,” Ellie reassures him, and she is relieved to see him accepting her explanation, “we’re our own little family and I will always be your mom, even when you don’t see me.”

“What about momma? Do you love momma too?”

Dina tilts her head at Ellie, mimicking the hopeful look in their son’s eyes.

“Your momma owns my heart, Tater.”

Ellie feels Dina’s hand grasp one of hers, their fingers intertwined. JJ sees the contact, jumps on them, and nuzzles his little head in between theirs. The moment was so tender they almost forgot what had started the discussion in the first place.

Until JJ spoke again, “if we’re always a family, how come you don’t live with us?”

And damn, their son really did have some hard-hitting questions that night.

[touchmycoat]

on Promising Young Woman

i was hesitant to watch bc i knew a spoiler, but @trixree convinced me to watch it and i’m very glad i did. all things aside, it’s just damn well-written—pacing’s top-notch, every act shift was action-driven with a female lead, and it balanced the pleasure of a revenge fantasy against the soul of the story SO well.

thoughts & spoilers below

elephant in the room: yeah I hesitated to watch the movie because I know Cassie gets murdered in the end. After watching the scenes that followed, I...have a better understanding of why that was the choice. I still hated that it happened, period. I literally said “fuck you” out loud to the morning after shot, with the sunlight pouring down on her in the white outfit and she had her arms outstretched—yes, she’s a martyr, yes, she’s the “morning angel,” but fuck that, I didn’t need her to be a martyr. I so desperately wanted the movie to give her more than that.

Like Jenna and Wesley said, it was a superhero movie. That lasted until the choice to kill her.

Thoughts on why they did it: for the ironic morning after, where the audience sees not-Zac Efron sob and whine about how he’s going to lose his marriage and family and job after he just knowingly murdered a woman. Where we get to see Schmidt (fnjdnfjdnf what a casting choice, i lost my mind) say the words to Al Monroe that women like Nina needed to hear—it’s not your fault. None of it was your fault. We get to see the violent and continuous forgiveness of men that dead girls have and continue to pay for.

But my question is, what part of the movie managed to give the audience comfort that legal authority is the solution to this problem? The ending felt squeaky clean wrapped-up, yes, but the anxiety that ran deepest for me throughout this entire film was the fact that Cassie was leaving these men alive. All the men she’s found in the clubs, the man whose car she smashed, the entire law firm that specializes in burying rape cases—to me, every man she left alive was one more factor that could come back and bite her. That was my concern, and it was by no means alleviated by the scene with Bo Burnham and the detective right before the wedding.

I guess that circles back to the question of what the film is trying to be, though. It’s a different take on a revenge thriller. It isn’t meant to deliver a smash-burn-kill catharsis. Rather, it operates on a realer level. Which I love, actually! When she told the fedora guy that she’s not the only one who does it, it felt like a very enticing call-to-action lmao, and like a moment that ought to haunt the “good guys” that watch this film. The movie did so well to manifest and deliver the “enough is fucking enough” attitude that everybody ought to have about sexual assault under the influence.

More on why they killed Cassie: to really lean into the specter of Nina who has so haunted the entire narrative. Even handcuffed to the bed, Al Monroe never said the word “rape.” Nobody wants to, they keep skirting around it and refusing to acknowledge it for what it is. That’s why the movie does it for us, the audience. Instead of saying it, the movie gives its thesis on what rape actually is—a murder. A squeezing-out of a woman’s existence. Al Monroe rapes and kills Nina Fisher before the start of the movie, and the movie ends with Al Monroe killing Cassie. It ends with the violent burning of Cassie’s body, and fucking Schmidt kicking her hand with the childishly painted nails back into the bonfire. The parallel destruction of women is evident.

Did the ending feel like enough of a resurrection?

On a fandom level, I am happy to do the work of seeing the Romance in it. Cassie evidently anticipated her own death, perhaps even sought it—it’s easy to picture a fic focused on Cassie’s thoughts pre-bachelor party, where she’s just so happy to finally be joining Nina again. Where she gets to sign a text Love, Cassie & Nina. I fucking adore how much of an agent she was in the action throughout the entire movie, and the ending definitely did some work in resurrecting that agency.

On a real life level though, I’m so, so fucking sad she essentially had to commit suicide to get the justice she sought. She really is a martyr, but no part of the story indicated she was happy to be. There’s no relief in what she chose—it was simply what had to be done, because nobody else would do a goddamn thing.

Oh boy, the movie did so well to play Ryan as a good guy up until the very end. When time came for him to own up to his mistakes, he flipped like a fucking dime. Suck it #NotAllMen.

The evocations of childhood were interesting. We have the notebook, the scrunchie, the pink bedroom, the childhood photos, the juice box, the friendship necklaces, the painted nails. What is that doing?

- It’s a visual touch point for the arc words “we were just kids!” used as a protestation by rapists and assaulters to excuse their actions. Men get to be “kids” who made mistakes, women get repeated insistence that their actions have consequences, that they shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.

- It signifies Cassie’s vulnerability, her childhood best friend that she’s never been able to move on from. Functionally, I thought it was a brilliant way of grounding how tender the center of her story is, that she’s actually operating from a very simplistic point of pain and loss, considering how cool and violent she gets to be throughout most of the movie.

- It becomes a symbol for destroyed innocence when it’s the last bit of Cassie we see before her body’s burned. The movie re-positioned the meaning of this word “innocence,” I think. It’s not about women being ruined after rape, it’s about these women being people. Cassie’s last monologue about Nina does so much work to hammer that home—Nina’s value was never about innocence before or after her assault, it was never diminished. She was loved because of who she was as a person, but Al Monroe squeezed the life out of her anyways. Childhood and innocence become about the happiness that existed before men attacked, and the men get to symbolically destroy it one more time with a kick into the pyre. But then comes the resurrection, and in a way, the movie returns Cassie to that happiness with the last texts she got to sign with her best friend and a winky face.

The penitent lawyer was a hell of a narrative choice. I did accept it, and I like it mainly for what it showed of Cassie—that she is capable of forgiveness. By putting the scene with Nina’s mother right after, it transitions Cassie into a spot of hope pretty damn effectively. I also like that it didn’t take Cassie’s emotional labor to get the lawyer to that place, and that he was already self-flagellating (the dead plants behind Cassie in that apartment were a great touch) before she got there. I like the possibility that Cassie could have forgiven herself for not being there for Nina.

That’s why I’m so damn mad she’s dead!!!! She recognized how destructive her pattern of behavior is, and put an effort to stop that for herself and for her relationship with people she cares about. Yeah, Ryan proved an asshole, but it wasn’t even about him!! She laid it clean out for that guy!! No forgiveness. He was not an innocent bystander. He does not get to get away with anything, and all the ways he chose to behave after the fact just further proves it!

Cassie was stunning, and dangerous, and incredible. Narratively, she really could have gotten away with it. I don’t want to buy this finale, that it takes the destruction of another woman to bring justice to the first. I don’t care how neatly framed it was, that was not a happy ending.

[zims-left-shoe]

Hello, I had a really cute idea for a request if you dont mind. Since it's been lockdown and stuff could I get a Zim x S/o where they're finally able to see eachother after isolation. Bonus for fluff if that's ok with you?

This request??? Amazing. Absolute perfection. And of course there’s going to be fluff!! Chaotic and feral Zim is great, but I love me some soft Zim.

Oh, and there’s no specific age here. Could be high school, could be adults, I’ll leave that up to the reader.

Blinking furiously, your eyes eventually settled on a squint as your phone cast painfully bright light into your face. The surrounding comfort of darkness was fended off by the harsh screen you continued to stare at. Nothing had changed in the past hour, nothing new was written. You weren't sure what you were hoping for. 

A simple 'FINE' within a chat bubble marked the end of your conversation. Normally, you would snicker to yourself about how he flat out refused to write in lowercase, but the anxiety gnawing at your stomach prevented you from doing so. 

Sighing, you rolled onto your side, hanging half off the bed in order to plug your phone in for the night. After that was accomplished, you flopped onto your back, staring into the black abyss that was your bedroom ceiling.

Quarantine had been a lot more difficult than you had originally thought. At first it was fun, you could be as much of an introvert as you wanted and could take care of your responsibilities on your own time and schedule, for the most part anyway. But once the weeks turned into months, and those months began to increase exponentially, it became a problem. Going just a bit stir crazy was bad enough, but the worst part was being unable to see Zim.

Again, at first, you didn't think it would be such a bad thing. He tended to get a bit clingy and possessive, so you thought a little me time would do you some good. But as time stretched onward, you realized that you missed the little roach bastard more than you had anticipated. 

Of course you couldn't see him, considering not only the high human-to-human spread, but neither of you were quite sure to the extent Irkens would be affected, if it would be much more dangerous for Zim than an average human. As if that factor wasn't bad enough, Zim was already a huge germaphobe, so he rejected the idea of even socially-distanced hangouts with masks and all that.

So, being responsible and considerate, you had agreed to stick to text communication. It was fine at first, and you both talked regularly. Until about a month ago. Your worries began at the occurrence of two solid weeks of radio silence. Assuming the best, you waved it off as maybe he went to space and therefore couldn't get Earth cell reception. Finally, he had contacted you again, but brushed off any questions regarding the period of being off the grid. However, any response he gave you was short and simple, often a yes or no without elaboration, even to prompts where those answers weren't even valid. 

This is where the unease began. Your mind began to run rampant with thoughts on the matter. What if he had gotten tired of you? The reasonable person inside of you told you that if that was indeed the case, then his loss, but that didn't mean you had to be happy about it. Just when you would convince yourself everything was fine, you managed to come back with something else, always a variation of the last negative thought. What if he had realized that he liked being alone, that he missed being a lone wolf soldier focused on destroying the world with no one to care about? You could never fully refute that one. After all, was a genetically modified alien soldier truly content being tied down by something such as a relationship?

The only thing that brought you any solace was that he had reached out to you that morning, requesting your presence at his base. Things had gotten better, allowing for the two of you to meet with contact, person to person. Well, person to Irken. Of course, your brain wouldn't let you enjoy that. It just had to spin some tale that would send you into a spiral of dread. Now, as you laid in your bed, sheets bunched in your fists, you were convinced that he wished to break up with you. Well, at least he had the decency to do so in person, if that even was the case.

You wanted nothing more than to be overjoyed that you would finally be able to see him after all this time. You had become quite attached to Zim, more than you ever would like to admit. You should be filled with excitement. However, you felt nothing but a sinking feeling that made your skin crawl. 

"Just...please let me have a good night's sleep, would you?" You pleaded with your mind, shifting onto your side to face your wall, letting your eyes shut tight.

(more under the cut)

-

Unfortunately, you and your brain have two very different ways of defining 'a good night's sleep'. Trudging into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead, you couldn't hold back the massive yawn. Stretching, about ten different joints popped as you remembered tossing and turning for a majority of the night. The worst part was the two or so hour period of staring blankly at the ceiling, mind racing with ideas of nothing at all. 

Staring at your reflection in the mirror revealed you to be looking like hell...and not on wheels. More like hell discarded on the side of the road next to an empty shopping bag. Dark circles rested under your eyes, which weren't only from the previous night. Your sleep schedule had been almost non-existent thanks to quarantine, some nights you wouldn't surrender to slumber until three in the morning, and other days you would succumb to sleep's tantalizing claws at four pm. 

Not to mention that you could barely remember the last time you had worn anything but pajamas or sweats. Groaning, you pulled on presentable clothes, as if this was the largest inconvenience you could ever be faced with. Not that Zim would care, but you didn't want to be shown up in the outfit department by a being from beyond who wore the same saturated pink military uniform every day. 

You didn't even bother to glance at the time, it wouldn't matter. Either way, Zim would most likely chide you for being late, even if you were an hour early. You weren't sure if the construct of time even existed in the reality that was Zim's mind. Now that you thought about it, you couldn't say for certain if you had even set a specific time arrangement. All you had agreed upon was to be there some time in the morning.

It didn't matter regardless, he would be there whenever you decided to show up. He hadn't left his base once for the duration of quarantine. Zim had patience when it came to being cooped up for long periods of time, you would give him that much. It was about the only time he had patience, but it counted nonetheless. 

That negative feeling wouldn't cease tugging at you as you meandered your way to Zim's base, quite literally dragging your feet down the sidewalk. Occasionally, you would come across a stray stone or pinecone, and you'd strike out with a half-hearted kick, watching it skitter across the pavement.

The entire walk was forgettable, and you had made the trek enough times for your brain to transition into autopilot until you made it to the fence line. The first few times you went to his place were unsettling. Now, you were completely unfazed as the security gnomes eyed you when you padded up the sidewalk, approaching the door. Their beady laser eyes tracked your every breath, but by this point you were unbothered. Besides, you were fairly sure that Zim had put you on the white list, so they shouldn't shoot at you unless it was a direct order.

You pressed the doorbell, folding your hands neatly in front of you as you waited for Zim to answer, scrambling to get a heartfelt speech together in your head. Whatever string of words you had managed to stitch together was thrown out the window when the door swung open, revealing a very animated GIR decked out in his doggy disguise. He frantically waved a black 'paw' to you, a grin splitting his face.

"Hi, Sparky!!" He hollered in your face, greeting you with a name that wasn't yours, per usual. Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he began talking again, in very much an outside voice. A chip right off the old Irken block. "Didja bring the pizza?!" The little robot inspected your arms curiously, stepping around you to make sure you weren't hiding the greasy pie behind your back. 

"I, uh, wasn't aware I was supposed to be bringing pizza." You knew this was just an instance of GIR being GIR, but you went along with it anyway. He couldn't help himself, it was just the way he was wired. Or, maybe it was the fact that his brains consisted of useless pocket junk. It didn't really matter. GIR moved back to stand obediently in the doorway, you peering around the frame to see if Zim was anywhere to be found. He wasn't, which only made the nerves worse. Despite your worry, you kept your voice even and neutral. "May I come in?"

"Mhm!" He hummed, jumping aside to let you in. You closed the door behind you, standing around awkwardly for a moment before turning back to GIR, who was already shimmying out of his doggy suit.

"Do you know where Zim is?" Something seemed to click with GIR, however, it was not something that would answer your question. The poor robot burst into tears, which also wasn't out of the ordinary, falling face first into the floor and pounding his metal claw on the tile.

"That boy missed you so much!! He so sad, he even cried!! He loves youuu...!" He wailed, loud enough to draw Minimoose into the room who offered a soft and sad 'Nyah', seemingly agreeing with the statement. You couldn't confirm, since only Zim and GIR were fluent in the language you lovingly called 'Moosinese'. Tears continued to stream down the robot's metal face as he screamed, Minimoose resting a comforting purple nub on his back.

"Is that true?" Your response was calm, having dealt with GIR's outbursts many a time. You couldn't attest to the accuracy of his words, considering correct information was almost similar to a Russian roulette wheel when it came to GIR. 

And as if nothing had ever happened, the robot immediately perked up, popping up to his feet with a smile, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "Yep!! Master's been down in the base the whole time!! Just sittin' there all shmoopy-like!" A giggle followed, pushing his previous bout of sadness into the past.

"Nyah!" Minimoose showed you a bucktooth grin as he looked to you purposefully. 

"Really? Fascinating." Again, you couldn't speak Moosinese, but still, you nodded. The purple moose appeared to be satisfied with your response, floating off to who knows where.

"You wanna come play with the piggy with me?!" GIR bounced up and down, eager to drag you off to roll around on the floor and have a tea party with whatever pig he had brought home this week. 

"Maybe some other time, GIR." You weren't opposed to spending time with the little robot, but he wasn't exactly who you were here to see. He didn't seem offended, all he did was shrug his metal shoulders.

"Okie dokie!" He brought his claw up to his forehead in a salute, turning away from you and making a mad dash to the kitchen. You heard a noisy metallic clang echo from the kitchen, and you didn't need to witness the event to visualize GIR smacking face-first into the cabinet.

"Careful, GIR! My milk squid experiment is in there!" A familiar voice rang out from the kitchen, and two immediate questions sprung to mind. The first was why in the name of anything would you keep milk in the cabinet (even if it related to a squid)? The second being just what in the hell had he been doing all this time?

The whiny complaints had quieted to low grumbles as just the alien you wanted to see paced into the living room, eyes cast downwards, antennae drooping. The words that had been forming in your throat were choked into barely a squeak when you got a closer look at him. Zim still didn't seem to notice you, red bug eyes trained on the tile, hands clasped behind his back. That wasn't the surprising bit. A jacket you thought you had lost some time ago was thrown on over his invader uniform. You couldn't remember if maybe you had left it there or maybe Zim had taken without your knowledge, but either way, he was swimming in it. The sleeves were rolled up to meet his wrists, gloved hands peeking out from the fabric. Most of the jacket itself was well past his thighs, stopping just above the knee. It had been just a bit big on you, so of course it would be massive on him. You felt any unease you were feeling immediately leave at the sight. Clearly, he hadn't been enjoying the separation as much as you thought.

"I was wondering where that coat went." A chuckle slipped past your lips. Finally, Zim seemed to notice you, head snapping in your direction, antennae perking up to attention. 

"Eh?" He didn't quite register your phrase, almost as if he had been wearing your coat for so long that he had forgotten it wasn't a part of his usual attire. "Y/n, I don't-" Zim looked down at himself, finally realizing why you were staring at him like that. He wriggled out of the jacket faster than you could gush about how adorable it was, throwing it forcefully behind the couch. "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!!" He shrieked, pointing a clawed finger at you, antennae flattening against his head in curt embarrassment. 

"So, you like my stuff, huh?" You asked cheekily, relishing in his refusal to look at you as he unknowingly clutched the hem of his invader uniform, scuffling his boots on the tile. You couldn't help but snicker. It wasn't often Zim would let himself be sheepish, since he normally knew nothing of shame.

"Nonsense!" He waved a hand dismissively, eyes still refusing to meet yours, although without his contacts, it was a bit hard to tell where exactly he was looking if his head wasn't turned. Crossing his arms tight to his chest, he wracked his brain for possible excuses. "I was just, er, working on repairs and didn't want to get my clothes dirty! Yes! I found this filthy piece of clothing and figured it would suffice." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well he would never admit to the true motivations behind his actions.

Lucky for you, someone else chimed in to voice your exact thoughts. "That's a lie." The computer spoke up from nowhere in particular, monotone voice bringing a growl to rise from Zim's throat. 

"YOU'RE LYING!! There is no evidence of this!" The Irken jabbed a claw up towards the direction of the many cables and wires strung across the ceiling. This wouldn't be the first time you've witnessed him get into a spat with his computer. They could be quite entertaining to watch, actually. 

"Proof." The computer said in a matter-of-fact tone, the gargantuan TV screen buzzing to life, static clearing to reveal a recording of internal base camera feed. The date was in Irken, but you were wise enough to surmise that it was from some time over the quarantine. 

The screen displays Zim begrudgingly wandering over to the voot cruiser in the hangar. In the video feed, he looks decently depressed, antennae slack and hanging limp, posture slouched. He climbed into the ship, looking for something. Whatever it was, his search came to an unresolved end as he lifted your jacket from the seat. Apparently, you had left it in there the last time he had taken you for a flight. His eyes darted around to make sure he wasn't being watched, slipping on the coat and hugging his arms to his chest. The sleeves extended well past his hands. He brought them to his face, sniffing them. A delighted smile ghosted his mouth as he rubbed the sleeves against his face.

"Why would you record that?!" His voice cracked at the end, and you were trying your best to hold in a laugh as the TV faded back to static for a split second before opening on another instance.

This time the video depicted GIR and Zim sprawled out on the couch, watching something on the TV. Zim was wrapped in your coat as if it were a blanket, seeming to be content enough with it. GIR had reached out a claw for the article of clothing, wishing to share. Zim hissed, yanking the coat away from his grip, swiping a clawed hand out like a cat. Clearly, he wanted it all to himself. 

This time you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You tried to apologize, especially since the Irken standing next to you looked absolutely horrified. You were sure he felt his dignity had just faded away right along with the video feed.

"Oh, and my personal favorite." The computer added helpfully as yet another recording presented itself on the TV. This one was a bit tougher to make out. 

Zim was down in the depths of the base, and much was dark, the only light being cast from a large monitor just off screen. You were able to see Zim, sitting on the floor, sporting your jacket. He stared longingly at the sleeves that covered his hands. After a moment he shoved his face into his arms and knees as tears slipped down his face. You could only make out the tears due to the light being thrown from the monitor, making them glisten like jewels. Separation appeared to be much harder on him than you had thought. Maybe that was why he had been ignoring you, although it seemed counterproductive. It was possible that texting you made him miss you more.

Zim was not amused in the slightest by this particular clip. He stamped his foot on the tile, making frenzied cutting motions with his arms.

"COMPUTER!!!" His voice was high in volume, but a nervous chuckle laced each syllable. "I think that is quite enough!" 

The computer groaned, cutting the feed back to static, eventually switching the TV off completely. "I was just trying to be accurate."

"You only seem to care about accuracy when it is of no benefit to Zim!!" You could only imagine what was going through Zim's head in the moment, because from the outside, he was a ball of red hot rage. However, the computer was having none of his antics, going dormant once more.

"Zim? You're up here." You raised a hand above your head to indicate his anger level. "I need you to be down here." You lowered your hand to your abdomen, knowing that was a complete stretch to ask for. Especially since he was so upset he was stringing together curses in Irken. He would only speak in his native tongue around you when he was incredibly furious. His teeth were gritted tightly, foot tapping audibly on the tile.

"That damn computer." His growl was closer to that of a feral animal, and although he was calm enough to speak in English, he still required some de-escalation. 

"Relax, we'll just pretend it never happened."

"Good. Forget about those recordings." His eyes were narrowed, but he was relenting his irritation.

"What recordings?" You shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. Zim seemed appeased, and in a split second, all of his anger was gone and replaced by something else entirely. All the fight seemed to leave his body as he looked to you, red eyes softening completely when they caught your own. He seemed relieved to see you, as if being away was one of the hardest things he had been through in years.

Wordlessly, he strode over to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your chest. Soft Zim was a rare occurrence, but these moments were something you absolutely treasured. It almost made the months of isolation worth it. 

You returned the action, and the second you put your arms around him, every muscle in his body relaxed. It was a bit strange, really. To have a hardened alien soldier all but melt in your arms. He wrapped his legs around you as well, clinging to you like a koala. It wasn't hard to maintain balance since he really wasn't all that heavy.

"Couch." He mumbled, his chin resting on your shoulder as his arms were draped around your neck, your own arms supporting him under his legs. A chuckle fell from your lips at his behavior. At first it seemed like he had no energy, but in reality, it was closer to him being soothed by your presence. You were about the only living creature, scratch that, the only thing in the entire universe that could ease him like this; even he wasn't sure why you had this effect on him.

"Sure thing." You walked him over to the couch, using one arm to snag your jacket off the floor before sinking down into the cushions. There was a bit of a strange smell emanating from where you sat, most likely due to GIR spilling countless snacks, messes that weren't completely cleaned up. It wasn't super potent, and in that particular moment, it wasn't one of your concerns.

As you sat on the couch, Zim remained cuddled into you. A snicker slipped out as you tossed your coat over him as if it were a blanket. At first you assumed he would protest, proclaiming that he wasn't cold, nor a weak little smeet who needs to be cared for. So when he removed his arms from you, you were bracing yourself for a lecture and/or rant. However, all he did was tuck the jacket around him better, silently snaking his arms back around you afterward.

"You really did miss me, huh?" It was a redundant question, since without even saying, you both were aware of the answer. Still, you wished to hear him say it. It would put you in good spirits. 

"Your absence was...not pleasant." His voice was uncharacteristically hushed, muffled by your clothes. His words were chosen delicately, as they always were when he didn't want to admit to something that he knew to be true. 

"So you missed me." The smile that was spread on your face shone through your voice. 

"If that is what you would like to think." Zim made an attempt at being snarky, but any mockery in his words was half-hearted at best. Breathing a sigh, you let your head fall back against the back of the couch. You knew full well that was the best you could hope to glean from him, even in his current subdued state.

"For the record, I missed you too."

"As you should. Zim is very great." Looking down, you were met with a sight that melted your heart. The coat still wrapped around him, arms still clinging to you as if you would walk out any minute. Zim's eyes were closed as he laid his head in your lap, quiet purrs rising from his throat as your fingers absentmindedly played with his antennae. You almost thought he would fall asleep. 

"I know. You're the coolest Irken I know." You may have only known one, but still. Zim was pretty amazing in your book, despite being a self-absorbed idiot at times. A pleasant silence settled over the room for a moment as you continued to twirl his antennae between your fingers.

His eyes still closed, Zim spoke again, mumbling, "Zim's next plan is to eradicate these abhorrent human pandemics." The words slurred together a bit, and although you knew Irkens to not sleep due to lack of biological necessity, whenever he was completely relaxed, he tended to get drowsy. 

"Good luck with that. I support your efforts one hundred percent." Despite the first statement harboring a twinge of sarcasm, the second was completely genuine. 

"Does Zim detect a hint of ridicule?" His words may have been a challenge, but not a single eye opened even a crack, not a single muscle in his body so much as twitching.

"All I'm saying is I haven't seen much progress on your original plan of eradicating the humans, and it's been how many years?" 

"Quiet or I'll steal another one of your inferior human zip-cloth thingies." He may not have technically stolen the first one, but you had to make a mental note to keep track of your jackets and hoodies. Or at the very least, make sure to keep the ones you wore often out of reach. You supposed in the end it didn't really matter. You would know where to find them if they did happen to go missing. And besides, he did look rather cute in them. 

[thatesqcrush]

The Wedding

Rafael Barba x Reader. For kink bingo: voyeurism. CW: male masturbation. NSFW, obvs. WC: 2145. 

--

“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Rafael replied, staring at the road ahead of you.

“Yes, Rafael – I know where I am going. And besides, Alexa…” You replied, with an annoyed huff. Alexa chimed in to make a turn and you shifted the turn signal on.

“We’re going to be late.” Rafael muttered. You glanced at Rafael quickly, before looking back at the road.

“We’re going to be fine.” You replied in a sing song voice, trying to not get any more irritated. “Right on time.”

“I’m the best man – I am Carisi’s best man. I am going to be late.”

“I know you’re Carisi’s best man. We are 5 miles away. Fifteen minutes tops. They’re not going to start without us.”

“That’s if you’re the bride! Or the groom!” Rafael replied exasperated. He stared out the passenger side, a mixture of yellow, gold, copper, red, burgundy, and orange leaves whirring past him. “I still need to drop off my things at the farmhouse.”

You ignored him. “It’s leaf peeping season here in New York. Did you know that? I never understood that but now, coming up here – I get it. It’s so beautiful. I would totally do this with someone…” you trailed off.

You focused on the road ahead. Internally you were swearing up and down. You didn’t mean to be running behind to Amanda and Sonny’s wedding. Originally you were planning on taking the train but then planned track work derailed – literally and figuratively – that plan. So you decided to drive – and because driving to new places gave you anxiety, you decided to give yourself an extra hour of wiggle room. That hour was shot to shit when Rafael called about his rental not showing up. And then you had made a wrong turn and traffic had built up earlier on which further set you back

Now Rafael was blathering in your ear about how you were making him late. Had this been any other person, you would have torn them a new one – you hated being barked at while driving – it made you more anxious and tense. Which was surprising considering the line of work you were in. You were a detective, second grade with Special Victims. This was your pet peeve. And because you had a crush on Rafael from the moment you started, you let this – him griping at you, slide. When you first began to work at SVU, you were instantly taken by the handsome prosecutor. He was intelligent, fashionably sensitive, and his sassy one-liners always made you chuckle. He also cared for the victims and it was his passion for both the victim and the law – taking on cases no one else dared to, made you fall for him that much more. ‘Does Rafael knew how handsome he is?’ you wondered as you waited for the traffic light to change. You snapped out of your reverie and gave Rafael a pleading look.

“Rafael – ten minutes. Just give me ten. We will be there.” You let out a deep exhale and pressed your foot on the gas pedal a little heavier.

--

The wedding venue – a repurposed barn in upstate New York - was unique and versatile, rustic yet chic. The ceremony took place on the manicured paddock, cocktail hour took place on the lawn and then dinner and dancing took place in the barn itself. For those guests not into dancing, they relaxed with their drinks and desserts by the fire pit.

You watched Amanda and Sonny dance with Jessie and Billie. The little family was all smiles. Earlier in the day, it had been unseasonably warm but by nightfall there was a small chill. You wrapped your shawl around your shoulders and rubbed the tops of your arms. Rafael was sitting by the fire pit, finishing off his drink. He sat forward, his shoulders slumped. You made way to the bar and nabbed two beers before making way outside.

“Hey there counselor. Enjoying yourself?”

Rafael smiled when he saw you and moved over on the bench he was sitting, to make space for you. You murmured a thanks and then handed him a beer.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Rafael replied. “Salud.”

You clinked your bottle with his. “Cheers.” You took a long drag of your beer, watching as the flames danced in front of you.

Despite the roar of the ongoing party, you could hear the sound of crickets chirping and it was soothing. The string quartet began to play “Can’t Help Falling In Love” and you looked wistfully at the dancefloor laid out on the grass.

“Do you dance Rafael?” You asked.

Rafael perked up. He stood up and put his drink down and then reached for your hand. You took another swig of your beer, neatly folded your shawl and then put your beer down before taking his hand. Rafael led you to the dance floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands gripped your hips.

“You’re quite the dancer Mr. Barba.” You complimented. The combination of his solid body against yours mixed with his cologne made you feel intoxicated and warm. Rafael hummed his appreciation and in response drew you closer to him.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I was just anxious about getting here.” Rafael apologized. You pulled back and saw the sincerity in his eyes.

You shook your head and waved him off. “It’s fine – we were running late – shit happens. I was anxious too. I mean we made it, didn’t we? Yes by the skin of our teeth, but we made it.”

“No, I was out of line.” Rafael replied. “I should have just said thank you for the ride. The last thing I would want is to have you be upset with me.”

“Really? And why’s that?” You asked, curious and ever hopeful, searching his eyes.

Rafael cleared his thought, his throat suddenly dry as he racked his brain as to what to say. “Because it would make the ride back to the city super awkward.” He lied. Rafael turned his head, unable to meet your eyes. And in turn, missed the disappointed look on your face. In reality, he was completely fascinated with you. And he had been since he first met you a year and a half ago when you joined SVU.  You had made your own lateral move to SVU, transferring over from white collar crimes. Rafael would watch you out of the corner of his eye, admiring your intelligence and quick wit. You showed empathy for the victims. You had a keen sense of skirting the law but were always able to maintain its integrity. A lot of the time, you drove him – and sometimes your commander – ostensibly crazy. To top it off, you were beautiful. Whenever he was in close quarters with you, he felt enchanted, like a moth to a flame. But you were also fourteen years his junior and he was certain the feeling was not mutual. ‘Why be with me, basically a viejo with commitment issues when you could be with someone younger who was more handsome and could offer you the world.’ He would bitterly think on more than one occassion.

You both continued dancing and you closed your eyes, lost in the play pretend that there was more between you and Rafael. ‘The detective and the lawyer.’ You snorted to yourself – ‘sounds like a cheesy Harlequin romance novel. You then imagined Rafael bare chested with his leg propped on a rock and you snorted again. Rafael looked over at you, his brow cocked and you felt your cheeks burn. “You look very handsome today.” You replied in an attempt to change the subject.

“Thank you. So do you.” Rafael replied. And to him, you did in your mint floral maxi dress with a lace-up crisscross bodice. He wasn’t used to seeing you so dressed up and when you came to pick him up with a full face of makeup on, he damn near came in his pants right there on the corner of 85th and Lexington Avenue.  The song overlapped into the next and soon two songs became three, then four. Some picked up in beat and by the end, you were both hot, sweaty and out of breath. Your hair, which had been pinned up, had fallen. His eyes tracked a single bead of sweat as it dripped down your collarbone and down your chest, finally landing in between the swell of your breasts. He swallowed hard trying hard to ignore how his cock twitched against his pants.

“I think I am going to get another drink.” Rafael replied. “Do you want one?” You nodded in response and watched him take off. You bit your lip - ‘damn that ass looks good in a tux.’ 

“Are you going to make your move tonight? You should.” A voice interrupted your thoughts.

You looked over at the bride who joined you. “Do you want to die on your wedding day? I mean that’s awfully macabre.”

“I swear on my babies, that man is in love with you. And I know you have some feelings for… what did you say? Oh, that’s right! The one with the gleaming crystal eyes and the mouth that looks like it just finished eating a peach.” Amanda winked.

“I said no such – oh who I am kidding. I said that.” You sighed. “I don’t know. What if he rejects me? That ride home will be so awful.”

“If he does that, then it’s a good thing you’re at a wedding full of cops. We know how to bury bodies and get rid of the evidence.” Amanda replied. “But seriously – make the move.”

--

You hiked up your dress and looked all over for Rafael. He went to the bar – he should have been back by now. The venue was large and people were still milling about. You spotted Sonny, who was carrying a sleeping Billie in his arms.

“Sonny! Have you seen Rafael?” You asked.

“He went to the farmhouse to check his phone or something. Something about checking on a filing. You know how he is – work, work, work. Did you see Amanda?”

“Over that way – thanks.” You pointed behind you. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations again.”

“Thanks – and thanks for coming. So glad you were able to make it.” Sonny replied.

You nodded and continued walking towards the farmhouse which wasn’t that far off from the events venue. The farmhouse was quiet and almost eerie. Your heels made an obscene sound against the hardwood floor and you paused to remove them. “Rafael?” You called out. No answer.

A light from down the hall caught your eye and you made your way down. The door was open a crack and what you saw, made you pause.

Rafael was sitting on a bed, his cock jutting out of his tuxedo and he was masturbating furiously.

Rafael pumped and stroked himself rhythmically. He squeezed at the base with every downstroke of him fucking his fist. Rafael let his thumb glide across the head of straining cock, smearing pre-cum. Rafael released himself and spit into his hand before resuming his movements, now stroking faster. He let out a moan and you were stunned to hear your name escape his lips. Desire pooled in your belly and you felt a delicious ache develop in between your legs. You wanted to so badly to hike up your dress and touch yourself to relieve that sweet ache but you couldn’t. Instead you watched, utterly transfixed at Rafael masturbating. About you. You were his fantasy plaything. Your nipples strained at the confines of your dress and you reached up to cup one. You could feel your arousal grow in intensity – if you weren’t wet before, you were now – you were positively soaked.

Rafael moaned your name as his hips bucked; his balls began to feel heavy and that familiar coil in his gut began to emerge, signaling his need for release. Rafael began to stroke himself feverishly, working faster and faster. “Oh fuck Y/N, take that cock – let me fill you up with my come.” Rafael made noises of a man who had been denied for far too long. You bit down on your bottom lip to avoid gasping and you winced as the taste of blood filled your mouth.  Rafael continued to stroke himself, cupping a hand in front of him, and you realized that he was about to come.

You take a step back and the floor creaked and you silently curse. You peeked through again and you met Rafael’s eyes from where he is sitting. He looked completely aghast at having been caught.

You smirked, and opened the door wider, taking a step in. You turned to shut the door behind you and you made certain to lock it. Turning towards Rafael, you begin to slip off your dress.

“How about you give me a ride as a thanks for earlier?”

FIN.

--

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