#answered another ask game today so riding on the adrenaline to push through this one

[lilac-set]

5 for the ask game!

Thanks for the ask! Context

5. A song you think most of your followers won't have heard before

To be honest i have no gauge for how popular any given artist or song is, i could give you some little local ones but i dont wanna dox myself via the full names of my irl friends, so im gonna answer a bunch random different questions instead, sorry :p

For starters this ask game as a whole reminds me overwhelmingly of Playlist by Teens in Trouble

9. A song in a language you don't speak

Jeu by L’Or du Commun

14. A song you love to sing along to

Alone Together by Fall Out Boy is one i can never resist singing, Dancing’s Not a Crime by Panic! At the disco is another

16. A song that makes you think of an old (or current) crush

Monsters by All Time Low feat. blackbear (to us this is about a dude we ended up introjecting lol)

19. A song that makes you emotional

Here’s my Heart by Say We Can Fly, and Bro Hymn by Pennywise (2005 remaster) (cw death/suicide on that last one though)

What about you? Any of the questions that you wanna answer

[littlefreya]

Good Girl

gif credit amancanfly

Synopsis: Henry is at the gym testing the new Glute Drive while his longing wife drops by to visit and decides to play a little wicked game of teasing. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Explicit, this is basically ALL smut. Slight SubMale / DomFem then a lot of DomMale / SubFem, dry humping, cock teasing, dangerous driving, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink (I am all the kinks today), unprotected sex and bodily fluids!

A/N: Okay so this fic was born out of the UNHOLY union between this thread and the video of Henry going “good boy” at Kal. Many thanks to my darling @agniavateira​ for helping me proofread this!

Title: Good Girl

There he is, my bear of a man. His sculpted, wide body plastered to some medieval-looking torture device. Strong, large arms hang onto the handles, muscles flexing. Slick with sweet sweat, he thrusts his hips up and down while grunting with effort.

Who the hell came up with this air-fucking machine?

I walk through the deserted mirrored room, my black painted nails scratching the glass as I draw closer toward Henry. Gyms tend to be freezing, and I’m not properly dressed for a workout session with my mini plaid skirt and a dark grey t-shirt. But his arduous gasps fill the chilled space enough to make things a little warmer. 

“What are you doing here, little one?” Henry finally asks, pausing his thrusts for a moment as he spots my cattish moves toward him.

I observe silently as I inch closer. he has his waist strapped to a bench, heavy weights of 80kg are on each side of his body while he lifts upward and presses his behind back down. A sheer layer of sweat covers him entirely, his skin glistening in the fluorescent’s light. His favourite blue top is soaked.

“I came home from the studio and my hubby wasn’t there.” I pout, standing right at the edge of the bench where his feet are pressed for support.

He pouts back at me, genuine care on his face. My darling bear might have the endurance of a large predator, but his heart is all strawberry marshmallow when it comes to his lady. He hates to spend time apart. Whenever our schedules collide it’s all about Face-timing and sending nudes. 

Honestly? I care less than he does about this shit ever getting leaked. I even keep some steamy under-the-cover selfies so I’ll have something to work with when either of us is away.

But what I hate the most, is having him here yet he’s absent. The Pre-production shenanigans have him preparing for his next role, which usually means working himself at the gym to the point of collapsing, just so he could look like some demi-god. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind him having a little body fat. That’s why I bake him pizza every weekend. What his gym coach doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.  

“I’ll be done in 10 minutes, darling.” he answers and continues to slowly push down and up again, releasing a pained grunt and clenching his teeth. “Just…  two… more… sets.”

“I don’t want to wait.” I alert him, circling the machine carefully to not get in his way. I appreciate the hard work and stamina, but I am quite tired of having the downside of the deal. Every day for the last 2 weeks I received an exhausted Cavill with aching, strained muscles. The most action I got was massaging his muscles in the bathtub which might sound romantic if not for him snoring 3 minutes in.   

“Ten minutes,” he mentions again. He’s out of breath as he ascends and then lowers once more, the weights pressuring his body down while the bands create a resistance. 

No way in hell someone came up with this device and didn’t think this is a sex thing. I see my bear thrusting his hips upward like this and only one thing goes through my mind. 

Oh, how I need to be on top of this mountain of a man.

I cannot help myself, nor can I hide the malicious grin forming on my mouth. I lift my leg carefully, hovering it in the air above him. I cage him between my straddled legs whilst giving him my best dominatrix glare. Henry raises his eyes to meet mine, looking dumbfounded. 

“What are you doing, darling? You’ll hurt yourself.”

Oh, sweet summer child. 

I sway my hips in a slow dance, with the thrust of his body and his heavy breaths as the music I’m dancing to. The arousal in his eyes is evident within seconds. His lips part away slowly, his beautiful blue eyes begin to cloud, and his adam’s apple slides upward in his throat as he swallows.

“At home.”

“Here.” I ignore his request lowering myself slowly and carefully to squat over his groin. He’s not hard, yet.

Henry releases a deep loud grunt. Usually, I am weightless for him, but right now I’m adding to already 160kg of weights. Well, he is the type of guy who likes to push his limits and I am the type of girl who likes to test boundaries. 

“Don’t,” Henry protests, another grunt escaping his lips. I stretch myself, my ass pressing back, my groin rubbing against the tender muscle that begins hardening between my legs. I can feel the rush of blood, making him throb and grow vast between my legs.

“Don’t do what?” I press my teeth against the lushness of my lower lip viciously, beginning to grind against the hardness in slow circular motions. “Don’t you have two more sets?”

He clenches his teeth, his hands tightening around the handles so harshly his knuckles whiten. With great effort he lifts up, succumbing to my wickedness. His erected cock is concealed underneath his clothes, yet I press and dance onto it, making blissful moans as the friction has me singing that sweet familiar tune.

When he pulls down I dive with him, feeling the exhale of his body and the dancing twitch of muscles. I greatly anticipate the next push upward, my hands reaching to squeeze my breasts together. My panties are now soaked with moisture as I press and rub, bringing myself closer.

When he lifts again, his thrust is a wee bit faster. He’s either getting used to my weight on his groin, or the adrenaline of the beast that I’ve been teasing allows him to push higher. He angles his hips into mine, serving my need, and gives me the friction I demand. His eyes meet mine and pure darkness devours me within them. 

I am in so much fucking trouble, but it’s so worth it. 

“Oh Henry, you’re making me so wet.” 

I moan his name, rubbing myself on his cock at a demanding speed while he lifts up and down. My clit tingles, swollen against his enormous bulge as that familiar wave begins to spread. He’s so hard, so painfully swollen, and so incapable of getting any release while I ride him into a powerful orgasm.

I clutch his thighs, desperate gasps spiralling out my mouth as the pleasure continues to hit my core. My nails dig deep into the hardened flesh but I can’t be bothered.

“Oh god…” I throw my head backwards, trying to adjust my breath while my legs are shaking around his wide waist. There’s still a throbbing hardness against my burning core, the angry drumming of blood pulsating against my opening. 

I’m tempted to take my phone and capture his looks in my camera. But I’m in too much trouble as it is. Henry is drenched in sweat, upset in ways I’ve never seen in my life. He's done with his workout for today,  no doubt about that.

“Are you done?” he asks me with a frown. 

I lick my lips and lift myself up, knees nearly giving up as my legs are still numb from the intensity of pleasure. I let out a provoking giggle, putting my finger between my teeth, knowing he likes that gesture. This is my favourite battle, control. He enjoys superiority with his physical power, but every now and then I sweep the rug beneath his feet. And though he loves it when I am his good girl, sprawling and letting him take what he wants, when I am bad, the beast is willing to split my ass in half.

Guess I won this round. 

Henry unbuckles the harness from his waist as I step back. He takes the towel from the bench and wipes his face. My eyes fixate on the still hard swelling in his nether area. I could offer to take care of it for him, but I am not feeling this generous right now. Better keep his stamina for home, so I can actually get me a proper shag in a nice, clean bed with a nice, clean husband that doesn’t smell like an entire rugby team.

“Go wait in the reception.” he demands, his tone anything but sweet right now. 

“Don’t take too long.” I demand in return as I turn around, flipping back my hair and letting it slide down my ass. I can hear his frustrated groan behind me, just before I leave the room. It makes me lose myself in a burst of chuckles. 

~*~

Henry meets me downstairs, a serious expression on his face. His gaze doesn’t meet mine, letting me know that unlike myself, he is vastly unamused. He takes my wrist in his big hand and leads me outside while smiling to bid bored receptionist goodbye. 

I am forced to follow his large strides. Being a tall man, every step of his is equal to three small ones of mine. Even though it seems like his “problem” subsided, he’s not exactly interested in waiting.

He’d always be tender in his behaviour towards me, a respectful gentleman who knows how to treat women. Sure, he can rearrange a guy’s skull, but he never raised his voice at me. He’d take a walk outside the house and then return to so we can have a talk like adults. 

But this is not a fight. This is but our favourite little war. Ongoing from the day we met.

I notice that we are not going to the car. Instead, he leads me to a narrow, dark space between two buildings. I can smell the damp sidewalk, the scent of earlier rain filling my nose. This spot is anything but romantic or erotic, with street cats screeching at the back and the sounds of trash cans being hit as they bounce on top of the lids.

Finally, he towers above me. His hand lets go of mine and hold it open in front of me with a demanding look in his eyes.

“Take off your panties.” 

I let out a bemused laugh, dry and short as I am uncertain of his odd demand. But he holds out his hand at the stern request, motioning for me to do as I’m told. 

“Here?!” I ask, looking around to see if there is anyone who might be a voyeur on our little engagement. The last thing I need is our agents scolding us again for photos of us being inappropriate in public places. Gretchen swears we make these mess on purpose. We kinda do, because we can’t keep away from one another.

“You want another one of your fancy pairs turned into rubbish?” he threatens.

I comply, breathing out like a brat and leaning down to take off my underwear for him. I place it in his hand and move back against the wall, anticipating his next move. I guess “Cavill and wife caught doing cardio after the gym!” could be a funny headline, better than the one at the hotel at the Academy Awards.

Henry folds the small material in his hand, holding it in his fist as if it’s something he can actually squeeze, before shoving it into his pocket. He grabs something else in exchange. I hear the chink of his car keys, dangling between his fingers as he offers them to me.

“You drive.”

There are no explanations, nor can I make anything of his behaviour. My man is willed with the control of his emotions. To outburst is to be weak, I am keen on that, my own terrible flaw. It only pisses me off more to see him keeping himself so relaxed while I am always the one who sees fire. 

I follow his order, walking after him silently as he leads me to where he parked the car. Having no underwear beneath my short skirt is anything but convenient right now, especially when I have to enter the vehicle and crouch down. 

I try fixing my skirt to cover myself, feeling the leather of the seat beneath my ass and other regions while Henry begins messing with the music player. I can see the small smirk at the corner of his lip, it’s evident that he’s having himself a good time knowing how uncomfortable I am at this very moment.

I roll my eyes at him and try closing my knees together as much as I can while stepping my foot on the gas.

He puts on Queens of the Stone Age and takes the passenger seat back, remembering he needs more legroom than I usually require. His head turns to face me, his lips sucked into his mouth in a cunning gesture.

“Had yourself a good time?” 

His hand reaches toward my knee, grazing at the bone with featherlike movements. It tickles, I am forced to move my knee from him involuntarily, but he keeps it in place, resting his entire large hand on my kneecap.

“I’m driving…” I warn him, keeping my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road.  

I can tell he is smirking wickedly, his eyes staring at the road ahead of us carefully and then back at me. His fingers make their way up my thigh, snakelike on my bare skin. His palm is large and warm, pressing onto my inner thigh while his thumb draws invisible circles on my skin.

“Henry…” I warn again, feeling cool air blowing against my lips as he forces my legs to part wider for him. “You’ll get us killed!”

“Then focus on the road.” he commands, licking his lips. His fingers meet my wetness in a touch so tender it’s almost a phantasm, yet still there, undoubtedly making me swallow a sigh and squirm slightly in my seat. It’s as if he is testing the water first, a slight brush before plunging in and damn if he doesn’t push into me with his fingers, pressing three of his large digits to massage my heat. 

“Fuck!” 

I am fighting to keep my eyes open, my hands clutching at the steering wheel while my left foot kicks at the floor. 

“Maybe we should stop.” I suggest, nearly pleading. 

“Keep driving, we’re almost home.” he answers, sounding relaxed. The amused grin has vanished from his face, replaced with the severeness of pride and triumph.

He strokes my cunt between his fingers in a tight grip, his fingers running up and down, playing with my wetness, smearing it across his hand before plunging two of his knuckles inside me as we stop at a red light. I am very much aware that other drivers might see us, so does he, but he seems to care very little if anyone spots him pleasing his wife. 

“Aww…” he mocks me, hearing the helpless cry that pushes out of my throat. “You shouldn’t have been such a bad little girl.” he teases some more, his fingers now plunging in and out with excitement. I allow myself to grind at the surface of his palm to achieve more friction at the base of my clit so maybe we can finish this quickly before the light is green.

But he’s the one in charge of my satisfaction now. He holds his hand further, so I will have none of it and keeps the stimulation only at the rim of my cunt, his fingers circling my entrance. 

“Too bad you had to tease me like that.” he murmurs in his low voice, his fingers slowly withdrawing and only his thumb grants my clit with a small tender brush.

 “Now you’ll have to wait, and be a good girl for daddy.”     

I let out another cry, arching toward the wheel and biting on my lips. It's not out of pleasure, but out of torturous frustration as he withdraws completely. I give him a quick, infuriated stare, seeing how he sucks his fingers victoriously, enjoying every single drop of his sweet win.

Feeling slick between my thighs, I press slightly harder on the gas pedal, trying to get us home faster. Henry pumps the volume of the music player higher.

Watch you come from above

I'm so needy for love, I'm desperate,

Greedy in slavery I sneak around from behind I got a one track mind We got a skin on skin thing baby I want to lick you too much I hear you comin ooh aaaah baby 

~*~

The moment we enter the house I lock the door and try to make my move but he has his hand on my throat in less than a second, squeezing not too tight, but tight enough to make a point. His blue eyes scan my face, his soft tongue slithering across the freckle of his lower lip with arousal. 

“Get on your knees, little one. You’re not off the hook yet.” 

I gasp at his fierceness, weak against his charisma and beauty. I stroke his face, still sticky with sweat from earlier, my fingers are gently smoothing against the stubbles on his high cheekbones and at the dimple of his chin. 

“Please, daddy, just fuck me already,” I bargain. 

“I’m wet and ready for you.”

“On your knees.” he repeats himself, his lips twitching to a small grin as he sees my defeat. His hand slightly releases my neck, his fingers pet my chin and jaw and finally entangle in my hair as I fall to my knees slowly, levelling myself at the height of his groin. His hand strokes my head lovingly, pressing my chin against his growing arousal as I look up to him with fake innocence.  

“Are you gonna be good now?” he asks, his fingers twirling around my long hair lovingly. 

“Yes, daddy.” I nod, waiting to have his cock in me, in any part of me. I want to touch myself so badly, my pussy throbs with desperate eagerness to be stuffed by his huge cock. . 

“I want to see you crawl on fours and wait for me in the living room, babygirl.” he growls at me while discarding his blue top on the wooden floor, exposing his thick hairy chest. 

“I want to look at your cunt as you move for me before I’ll destroy it. You’ve been such a nasty girl today.” 

I shiver at his words, a shrill of air kicks out of my lungs at once. My toughness is down to non-existing. I let him have it, I let him have it all. I crawl on my knees and palms like a cat in heat, my ass exposed for him. My cunt drips with primal desire to be conquered by this menacing alpha. I stop for a moment and then look behind me. I see him kicking off his shoes, his sweats slipping down his thick thighs along with his briefs before he continues to follow me, holding his erection in his hand, massaging the base of his cock while looking at me to open wide for him.

I reach the furry white IKEA carpet in our living room and wait for him, still on all fours. His heavy footsteps make the wood creak beneath his weight which alerts me that he’s close. The heat of his body is near. I feel the aura of his body as he falls down to his knees carefully behind me. 

His hands smooth against the curve of my ass, appreciating my shape to the point of worshipping my flesh. He takes the time to study again what he knows better than I do, trailing up to lift my skirt until it’s hiked around my belly. He then pushes my shirt, prompting me to take it off. Not an easy task to perform on all four limbs.

For one lingering moment, his hands roam across my body, massaging my muscles, pinching my nipples between his fingers. I moan beneath his large hands as he coaxes me into being his little plaything, succumbing to his will. Possessive fingers grip my shoulder and in a sudden movement, I’m pressed with my back down while Henry pushes my legs apart with his knees. 

“I just love to look at your face when I fuck you, babygirl.” he explains, his hands pulling my legs violently against his hips to position me as he desires. That way, we can both enjoy the show of his cock slipping in and out of my slit.

I squirm beneath him, my hands reaching for his chest to stroke at the thick dark hair and hardened pecs. “Please, fuck me.” I beg to the point of whining as I look at his sturdy cock, admiring every vein and ridge that decorates his impressive size. Henry takes himself and begins to tease my entrance, making teasing groaning voices while I plea so weakly. 

But that’s only to prepare me for his brutal invasion. He lets out a loud husky shout as he pushes in, penetrating me with such vulgarness, it takes the air out of my lungs. I am split in half, feeling how my body stretches immediately to bind itself to him. 

My narrow slit tries to remain resilient while Henry keeps himself nested between my lush folds, a groan of pure pleasure vibrates through his glorious chest before he takes my jaw in his great hand and makes me look at him to see the sin in his eyes.

“Good girl…”  he calls out in his deep low voice, pulling himself out slowly and then slamming back inside me in with a slippery wet slap. I gasp, my entire body shuddering in his veiny arms. 

“Good girl.” He speaks again, letting the words roll and linger on his tongue.

His rhythm is somewhere between torturous to divine. When he pulls away he does it ever so slowly, watching with perverse fascination his own cock as it slides out my narrow entrance just before he slams back in. Henry promised that he will destroy me; he never breaks a promise. I already feel how my muscles are thrown into a paradox, trying to resist him yet have him deeper and deeper with each one of his amazing thrusts.  

“Look at how you take me,” he calls in a guttural voice, urging me to look at our union. “You have such a tight succulent cunt, baby.” 

It feels almost too sinful to stare, my entire existence shivers at the sight. His big beautiful cock enters me, slick with my juices as he increases the pace. I’m petite but with him inside I’m forced to expand, my body stealing his shape, embracing him with devotion, wanting him to be like this forever.

His wide thighs are placed right beneath my legs, his right hand silks its way down my hip and grips me roughly as he pounds me in increasing speed. With one hand still on my jaw, he presses his fingers to my mouth where I suck and bite at him. He always wants me to look at him, loves it when I’m hopeless beneath him when my mouth cries for him while he stuffs me with his cock, over and over again. 

I squirm to meet his pelvis. He fucks me so raw that no actual words come out of my mouth but the mewls of a small, helpless animal instead. Being hunted for sport rather than eating. I grind my clit against his pubic bone to elicit more delightful friction, getting me closer and closer. But I’m stealing control and he’ll have none of that right now. 

He shoves us down, pinning my hands against each side of my head while his groin is holding me down to the surface in complete captivity. I am hurting for a mere moment as he shoves too forcefully. His apology is a deep passionate kiss which he is forced to break as we both gasp for air with every merciless push of his loins into mine. 

“Fuck babygirl!” He leans his forehead against mine, a feral gaze in his eyes. I lock my legs around his waist, my body losing every grip it ever had on control as the warmth begins to throb at the base of my cunt, spreading from my womb towards every nerve until I feel nothing but love flowing through my body.

I pant in awe, my voice adding to his deep growls and husky gasps which only become louder as his orgasm looms closer with the tightness of my cunt around his swelling cock. It sucks him harder, demanding his release, milking him of his offering until he shudders through me and yells out my name. 

The gush of warmth that spills inside me is my second favorite thing in the world. I moan with sweet delight as his cream coats me inside.

“I love you so much.” he whispers, holding me in his protective embrace as if to apologize for fucking me so hard.

I’d imagine that after such a long time together he’d already figure it out that I’m the one provoking it.

“What’s the name of that device again?.. the one I was…”

“Glute drive.”

“Glute drive, yeah, we’ll do that again soon…” I suggest, nibbling at his ear playfully while he remains on top of me.

~*~

Song lyrics are by Queens of the Stone Age - Skin on Skin

[nsheetee]

take it off

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff, slight College AU Length: 3.5k Warnings/Details: mature content (unprotected sex, oral [male receiving], slight exhibitionism), mentions of fwb, mentions of Johnny Summary:  In which you and Mark are friends with benefits, and Mark tries to tell you he wants to be more. a/n: minors, please beware; there is mature content in this writing

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Mark’s fingers can’t stop moving. From the volume knob on the radio, to the random receipts that are squished into his cup holders, to tapping a random rhythm on his steering wheel. It’s his nerves. Mark’s stomach is churning and there’s so much uneasiness in him that he can only let out through his fingers.

Tonight, Mark’s going to confess his feelings for you.

He’s not sure if this is the right time, or if you feel the same, or even exactly what he plans to say, but he’s going to tell you something tonight. You and Mark have been fooling around behind your friends’ back for a semester and half now. Your parking passes had you parking next to each other last semester, and constantly seeing each other before and after classes made Mark interested enough to ask you out on a coffee date.

The coffee date ended with a short make out session in his car, but neither of you were going to complain about that. So, that one date birthed the beginning of your friends with benefits relationship with Mark. He cringes every time he calls the thing between you two “friends with benefits.” Mark would like to say you’re two separate people who call each other up when you need to let go of your frustrations and stress. In reality, you two really are friends; the “separate” part is where things get fuzzy.

You’ve never met Mark’s friends and he has never met yours, but you’ve cried on his shoulder about school, a red eyed and snot filled nose sight only seen by him. Mark knows where the birthmarks are on your body and could probably guess how many moles you have on your thighs, but he doesn’t know what you want to do after college— what your dreams, goals, and aspirations are.

Mark wants to know. He wants to hold you after fucking you and he wants to hear about how your day was. As corny and cliche as that sounds, Mark yearns for it, but only with you. And that’s how he knows his heart has crash landed on you, and he can’t go another day without telling you his real feelings.

When you slide into the passenger seat of Mark’s car, he turns in the driver’s seat to face you. You don’t have make up on and your hair’s down, but you still have on your jewelry from today. You smile at Mark, looking a bit tired but he’ll never tell you that to your face.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about” Your voice is low and light, bouncing off of the center console and clutching onto Mark’s heart. It’s only now that Mark realizes what you’re wearing. A big, white t-shirt, much bigger than you and much bigger than Mark. It covers your shorts and thighs, and the short sleeves are long enough on you to almost reach your elbows. Mark recognizes the brand that’s painted on the chest; it’s a men’s brand.

“What are you wearing?”

“Is that why you called me down here, from my warm bed, to ask me what I’m wearing?” You laugh, genuinely amused. “If you asked me that on the phone, I could’ve told you.” Your voice turns slightly teasing and suggestive, but Mark doesn’t waver on his question.

“Seriously, w-what are you wearing.” Mark blinks at you, his eyes trained on the logo. “Where did you get it?” From what Mark knows, you haven’t seen anyone since you’ve started sleeping with him. It was the one thing you both agreed on: If you wanted to sleep with other people, you would break up your agreement to avoid confusion and fuss from anyone in the situation. Mark may be jumping to conclusions here, but he can’t help it. He needs to know if there’s someone else before he says what he plans to tell you.

“The shirt? It’s Johnny’s.”

“Who’s that.” It doesn’t sound like a question. Your sleepy eyes widen as you watch Mark. He looked so soft when you first sat in his car; curly black hair peeking out of his hoodie and basketball shorts riding up his thighs. Now, not much has changed, other than Mark’s white knuckle tight grip on the steering wheel and his usual starry eyes piercing into you.

“He’s a few years older than us, in my major.” Something between your thighs stirs as Mark’s jaw clenches for a second, “I got this shirt from him when mine got dirty during our pottery class.”

The explanation is valid. This Johnny person just seems like an older guy who’s trying to help someone younger in his same major. Mark would’ve liked it if someone did the same to him. However, your answer does not satiate Mark’s curiosity.

“So, like, why are you wearing it now?”

“It’s comfy, and Johnny told me to keep it, so why wouldn’t I—”

“Take it off.” Mark’s words stun you, but his tone doesn’t. You’ve heard that tone before, on the nights Mark has a bit too much stress from exams or a bit too much adrenaline after winning a basketball game. Your thighs clench together at his gravelly voice and your jaw drops slightly.

“What?” Mark’s stomach tightens at that tone you’re using with him, like you’re innocent when in reality you’re filthy.

“I said, take it off.” Mark is blinded by a green hue on his mind. He has lots he wants to say to you, but his dick wins over his mind for the time being.

Not really wanting to find out what happens if you don’t do as Mark says, you drop your phone and dorm keys into the cup holder and grip the edges of the shirt. The fabric teases your thighs, running up your stomach, and then your chest until you’re sitting bare in Mark’s passenger seat. Your nipples harden, partially from the arousal beginning to course through you and partially from the sudden change in temperature.

Mark grabs the fabric from your fingers and rolls down his window a few inches, tossing it outside and leaving the window open.

“Why did you do that?” You pout, already sensing the answer from the envious look in his eyes.

“You won’t be needing that right now.” Mark takes your hand in his, softly bringing you to his side of the car, his actions different from the voice he’s currently using with you. The move is slightly awkward but you manage to straddle Mark’s lap, not for long though. In one swift move, Mark pushes back his seat and leans back slightly, resting one arm behind his head and the other pushing you down onto your knees between his seat at the steering wheel.

“Here? In your car?” You whisper, your breath tickling the skin of Mark’s tummy that became exposed when he leaned back. You’re in the parking lot of your dorm at night, but that doesn’t mean that no one could walk by your car. You notice how the window is still rolled down a few inches. Mark was always a bit iffy about doing anything super sexual out in public, so this new side of him made butterflies rumble in your stomach, your mouth already slightly watering at how you can make him moan loud enough so that if someone does walk by, they’ll hear how good you make him feel.

“Yeah, here.” Mark answers, using his free hand to move your hair away from your face. He quickly leans down to press his lips to yours, the first kiss of the night. It’s shallow but full of heat already, making you almost lose your balance on your knees and float towards Mark when he pulls away, your eyes slow to open.

Your hands pull down the waistband of Mark’s shorts and underwear at the same time, one hand reaching to pull out his cock. He’s starting to get hard, but you help him along with a firm grip on his member while your thumb runs along that one protruding vein and your tongue kitten licks his tip. Mark’s eyes close and he hums, his grip on your hair tightening.

You lean back to spit on your hand a bit, running it up and down his length as you start to suckle on his tip. Your rings are cold around his soft skin, and the constant moving of them on his dick has Mark’s breathing deepening.

Eventually, you take Mark in your mouth, using your hand on what you can’t take yet. Mark doesn’t seem impatient, but he still uses his grip on your hair to pull you down all of the way until your nose is hitting his short happy trail and his tip is grazing the back of your throat. Somewhere in all the mess, his hoodie and t-shirt was thrown into the passenger's seat leaving Mark in his silver chain, and you only realize it when you look up at him.

You breathe through your nose to keep your pace going, but soon regain some control and slow down.

“H-Holy fuck.” Mark stutters at the new feeling. “You’re doing good, babe, just like that.” He praises you, stomach muscles tightening and arm muscles flexing. You hum around his cock, watching his eyes screw shut for a moment at the feeling.

You love watching his fucked out expression from down here, but your focus goes back to what’s in your mouth. Your tongue presses against Mark’s dick, experimentally swirling it around when you come up. Mark chokes out a groan, his hips jerking at the sensation and you’re pleased with his reaction, repeating what you just did.

“Wait, w-wait.” Mark pulls you away, “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Let me make you feel good. Let me make you come.” Your voice sounds raw from the amount of times Mark’s dick hit the back of your throat, but you don’t mind the sensation.

“You have made me feel good, so much.” It seems he has other plans as he brings your lips together in another kiss, this one longer and more heated than the first.

A few months ago, Mark would’ve thought it was gross to kiss someone like this, with Mark’s own precum on their lips and saliva dripping down their chin. But now, it makes Mark pull you closer to his chest, making you rise up from your spot on the floor and straddle him once again.

His lips push yours open until you let him stick his tongue in your mouth. He won’t stop, something in his movements keeps him moving as if he’s trying to prove something or get a point across. The thought leaves your head as soon as it comes, too focused on how Mark can make you clench around nothing just buy how his tongue sucks on yours.

That’s when you feel his nimble fingers, skin rough from gliding against a basketball five days a week and full of calluses from years of playing guitar. His middle finger glides over your clothed core, soaked through your shorts, and he can’t help but smile. You pull away to look at him and see the constellations in his eyes, some strands of his wavy hair soaked and sticking to his forehead while his mouth is wet from kissing you.

“What is it?”

“Hmm, nothing. You’re just so lovely,” He kisses your jaw, “And sweet,” He presses a hot open mouth kiss against your neck, his tongue darting out for just a moment to slide over the area, “And so, so fucking hot.” He presses another kiss to the valley between your breasts. The pressure of his fingers over your shorts is driving you mad; you just want to feel his skin on yours. So you pull down your shorts and panties all in one move, Mark helping you get them off of your legs and throwing them on top of his discarded hoodie.

His fingers lay flat against your bare pussy, and you shiver at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers. Mark continues his slow kisses along your chest, his middle finger now pushing into your hole. The feeling is almost overwhelming; you didn’t realize how wet and hot you got while sucking Mark’s dick, but now that he has a finger in you, you can’t help but clamp down around it as he moves in and out.

You both hiss at the feeling, your hands finding Mark’s shoulders to balance yourself, and he adds another finger after a few seconds. Mark moves his fingers in and out of you and scissors them, making your thighs shake and causing you to roll your head back. Mark removes his fingers, making you squirm with want and grind up into nothing.

“Be patient, doll. I’ll fuck you good, I promise.” He puts his fingers in his mouth, the two that were just in you, and sucks your juices off. You lick your lips at the sight, your fingers sliding down his bare chest to hook onto his chain and bring him closer to you for another kiss, but Mark has other plans.

“Turn around.” You’re confused, but do as he tells you. During the few times you’ve ridden him, Mark has always preferred you to face him. But Mark is surprising you in many ways tonight, so you let him do as he wishes. The new view makes you realize where you are again, the parking lot. No one is walking around now, but you wonder if someone has walked by your car and heard Mark’s moans or seen your bare back. The thought makes you bite your lip and your pussy throbs, a shaky sigh leaving your chest.

One of your hands grips onto the driver’s seat between Mark’s legs and the other grips the dashboard as you hear Mark pumping his length. You jump a bit when you feel his tip touch your folds, an involuntary whine slipping past your lips. You may not be able to see anything Mark is doing, but the surprise of it all makes you twice as sensitive.

Mark’s tip rubs up and down your folds again, making you wiggle your hips, signalling you want Mark to get his dick in you already. You hear him hum from behind you, and grabs your hip with one hand to lower you down and the other guides himself into you. When he bottoms out, you moan lowly, and then both sit in silence for a second.

Mark leans forward to kiss the delicate skin of your back, his hands massaging your sides while they move up and down your waist and hips. He’s not greedy with sharing his kisses, planting them wherever his lips can reach. His touch and kiss and the wholesome feeling of him being in you makes you move, sliding up and then back down enough to have both of you groaning at the friction.

You try to set a pace, but Mark’s grip on your hip slows you down once again. “Slow, babe, slow. I wanna take you slow.” You oblige, rolling your hips slower than before and arching your back so that Mark can hit the sweet spot inside of you. The new angle makes it easier, and you feel like he’s filling you up more and more with each slow stroke, almost lazy in how languid and sensual each movement on his dick is.

Mark’s right hand reaches for your clit, alternating between tapping on the bundle of nerves and circling his calloused finger. His other hand wraps around and plays with your nipple, squeezing it every so often.

All the stimulation quickly becomes too much for you; you’re not sure where to look, what to do with your hands, at this point you aren’t even aware at what sounds are coming out of your mouth. You find your hands now gripping the steering wheel, your forehead leaning against them and your jaw slacked open as Mark does not slow down with his fingers and you do not dare rush your hips, your thighs burning and your muscles clenching.

“Mark, you feel— Oh, fuck.” You can’t even form a proper sentence, but you don’t care when Mark’s hips start to move up and meet yours with every thrust. His hand leaves your chest to steady you by gripping your waist, but his other hand only speeds up on your clit.

When you accidentally press the horn, you don’t think it’s you who did it. Your eyes open and your head pops up to look out of the windshield, but the condensation on the windows obstructs your view. You only realize that you’re the one who honked when you see the placement of your hands.

“Shit—” You almost laugh at how you got carried away, but you’re glad you saved your breath. Mark’s hips speed up insanely fast, and suddenly he’s thrusting into you with precision. His cock moves in and out of you so fast that you can hear wet noises coming from your pussy and the clapping of skin coming together.

“Oh, God, Mark please don’t stop.” Your words come out choppy as your whole body moves with Mark’s motions. Your tits bounce up and down, your hips move to Mark’s rhythm without you even trying, and his car is shaking from side to side.

“I won’t stop if you tell me who’s making you feel this good.” Mark presses one finger hard onto your clit, making you gasp through your next words.

“You— You, it’s you, Mark.” You feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach, your walls clenching at the delicious feeling of your high coming to its furthest point. “I’m gonna come. For you, Mark.”

“Come on me, babe.” With those words, the knot in your stomach breaks, making each and everyone of your nerves sizzle with heat and pleasure. You feel Mark come undone below you, his hips stuttering until you feel him fill you up and push some of his cum into you as his hips gradually slow down.

You both take a second to catch your breaths, your grip still tight on the steering wheel in front of you, now mindful of the horn, and Mark’s grip is still tight on your hips and waist. You feel his hot breath hit your back and he gently pulls out of you, moving you to sit on his lap as you both lean back in the driver’s seat.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. Maybe you should’ve noticed something off about Mark sooner, and maybe you should’ve brought the question up before fucking each other, but now that whatever emotions were brewing in both of you have been physically released, hopefully Mark can speak more comfortably.

“There was something I needed to tell you…” You turn your head to the right to see Mark's expression. He’s glancing down at his thumb that rubs circles around your hip bone.

“Not who’s shirt I’m wearing?” You’re not teasing him, but Mark giggles at his earlier jealousy. For a split second, it’s hard to believe this is the same guy you were riding just a few minutes ago.

“No. I’m sorry I got so… forceful and possessive. I have no right to do that.” Mark talks with his heart, and he realizes now is a perfect segway into bringing up his feelings. “But I want to.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, but you already know what Mark is about to say, and your stomach churns as you brace yourself.

“I want to do this, what we’ve been doing so far,” He laughs awkwardly, “And more. I want to meet the people in your life and— maybe, I don’t know, go on dates or somethin’.” Mark still hasn’t met your gaze, and the lack of eye contact makes him keep rambling. “Maybe we could study together and meet up before class and— I just want to be more than what we are now. I want to mean more to you than just a fuck buddy.”

“You’re not just a fuck buddy to me, Mark.” You reassure him, cutting him off by turning his chin with your fingertips and making him look at you. “I do have to admit… I don’t have those types of feelings for you.” Your confession makes Mark’s stomach drop and he looks away, suddenly feeling very shy and almost ashamed. His heart plummets and he thinks he might’ve just screwed up; he’s already cursing himself out in his head.

“Mark.” You make his attention turn back to you when you realize he’s already overthinking your words, “You are someone important to me. I trust you in a way that I don’t even trust some of my closest friends. I think… maybe we can see where this goes? Just… take it slow?”

“Really?” Mark’s voice is shaky, as if he was holding his breath this whole time and he finally let it out. Mark didn’t know what he was expecting when he decided to tell you his feelings. He was not expecting you to jump into his arms and live happily ever after, but this is probably the best way tonight could’ve gone.

“Yeah, really.” You sooth, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Okay— Yeah, let’s do that. I promise, I’ll make it worth it.”

“You don’t have to promise me that. I already know you’ll be.”

[jpegjade]

Physical Therapy - Ch. 1 (Spencer)

WELCOME TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!! in honor of this bish starting physical therapy in real life (and missing it bc i can’t drive and my mom and i’s schedules not being synched on google calendar all the time) i’ve decided to write a fic about it. it will be a little series with a goal (yes, an end game) and it’ll be cute. some of it is based on actual things that happen and some is literally just the story. ENJOY.

gender: neutral

tw: nothing that i can think of

genre: fluff | angst

Description: After getting shot in the leg, spencer goes through physical therapy before he can get back in the field completely. What happens when he starts to fall for his physical therapy assistant? 

__________________

Two honks at 6am meant that it was time for Spencer to get going. Derek was downstairs, in the car, waiting on boy wonder to crutch his way out of the apartment complex. Derek wasn’t sure how to feel about this trip considering he missed his early morning run for this but he knew how nervous Spencer was for his evaluation today so he didn’t mind as much as he could have minded. 

Spencer was patiently waiting in a pair of very short shorts, mismatched socks, and running shoes. He threw on a t-shirt and looked in the mirror, noting how tired he looked. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately for some reason but he couldn’t be sure why. He combed out his hair one more time before he and his crutches headed to the elevators. 

“Ready, kid?” Derek said, opening the front door for Spencer like a world class chauffeur would if Spencer was a celebrity. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer mumbled.

In truth, Spencer was more than ready to get started on his physical therapy journey. He wanted to get back in the field full time, adrenaline pumping, connecting with victims, walking again. He didn’t mind the assisted mobility but it was hard for him to know that the best he could do sometimes was stay back in the office or hang out in Garcia’s batcave. 

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence between the two men. Derek was thinking about how he could make up his missed morning run by doing another type of high cardio workout while Spencer was just trying to figure out why it had to be him. He wouldn’t wish the frustration of his recovery process on anyone else on the team but the frustration of the recovery process just got to him on some days. Today was one of those days. 

Derek pulled up to the physical therapy clinic sooner than Spencer hoped. Part of that was because Derek was a very fast driver while the other part was because Spencer wasn’t paying attention for most of the drive. 

“You owe me one.” Derek said, completely joking. Well… Partially. That morning run was what kept him awake during the day, energizing him for work. 

“Do you want to come in?” Spencer said, looking down at his hands in his lap. 

Spencer’s hands were tapping his leg as he awaited Derek’s answer. He was nothing short of a nervous wreck on the inside. All he could think about was how much pain he would be in once the evaluation was over and the physical therapist had finished poking and prodding at his knee. He hated to think that it would be worse than everything else going on. Plus he still had to go to work today. 

“Sure, kid.” Derek said. 

Derek wasn’t going to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so he might as well support his friend. 

Climbing out of the car, the boys slowly made it to the sliding glass doors of the physical therapy clinic. Much to Spencer’s surprise, it was nothing like he originally imagined it to be. Some part of him thought it would somewhat resemble the clinic where his mother resided but it was completely different. There were floor to ceiling walls for over half of the first floor building. High tech equipment was stationed everywhere from anti gravity treadmills to hand bike motors, medicine balls and so much more. Spencer stood in the doorway, leaning on his crutches, while he took everything in. There was so much light in the air, it was almost like the feeling of recovery was airy and not meant to bog him down. This was a strange feeling for him to comprehend...

“You coming, pretty boy?” Derek called, taking a break from chatting with the pretty receptionist. 

Spencer and his crutches walked over to the front desk and grabbed the paperwork that covered how much pain he was in today. He filled it out quickly, hoping to get everything over with sooner than later. He was already here so he might as well just finish everything quickly so he could get out of the place. 

When he finished writing everything down, he returned the paperwork to the receptionist who slipped him a piece of paper and pointed to Derek. Spencer already knew it was the receptionist’s personal phone number and he didn’t even need to look at the paper. Sitting down, Spencer handed Derek to a very confused Derek before it hit him what it was. Derek winked at the receptionist, who blushed before answering the phone. 

“Spencer?” A voice called his name shortly after he sat down. 

It was nice to know that here, he didn’t have to be a doctor. He was just another person healing. He didn’t have to be smart, he could just exist. 

“Good luck.” Derek said, noticing that Spencer’s hand was shaking in the slightest bit. 

“My name is Nora and I will be your lead physical therapist.” The woman said, walking Spencer to a vacant padded table. It reminded Spencer of the types of tables you lay on when you get a massage. 

He only got a massage once when Garcia got stood up on a couples’ massage date. He spent half of his part of the massage giving the masseuse facts about how their job could actually give them an infection from the amount of germs in the air and on the table. His delivery of facts caused the room to be incredibly uncomfortable and bleach the table very thoroughly. By the time he and the masseuse finished, only 5 minutes were left in the massage and Garcia was left horrified and amused at the same time. 

“Don’t worry. We bleach the tables every time someone finishes a session.” Nora said, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. Spencer visibly relaxed and sat on the table. 

“So, Spencer, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Nora followed up, pulling up a backless roller chair. 

“Well, I was on a case and the unsub, unknown subject, shot at a dad but it ended up hitting me in the leg instead and…” Spencer paused, looking at Nora’s amused face. 

“No, I mean tell me about you. Your hobbies, what you do for fun, things like that. I need to do a complete profile for you so I know how your quality of life has been affected and which exercises you can do at home so we aren’t pushing too fast.” Nora smiled at Spencer. 

“I work.” Spencer said in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn’t really have anything else to say. 

“Okay. So you’re a workaholic.” Nora wrote. She was about to ask a new question when you came quickly walking to Nora. 

Spencer was left dumbfounded. There seemed to be a halo of light radiating around you, making you glow. He knew it was the sun finally rising but his brain short circuited as he continued to gaze at you. 

“Hey Nora?” You said, looking down at your boss. “Mrs. Gillespi wants to know why you haven’t come back to check her form. She doesn’t trust me because, her words here, I ‘look like a child who doesn’t know their left foot from the color orange.’” 

“Sure. Here, you can take over Spencer’s evaluation.” She handed you her clipboard.

You looked at the detailed notes on the paper and then up at Spencer, who looked like one of the youngest people here. 

“It’s not often we get cute guys in this place. Other than Kyle. But Kyle’s an asshole who could almost be my dad.” You blurted, not realizing you said it outloud as soon as Nora left. 

You noticed that he started blushing and looking at his converse and you realized that you said something. You usually spoke your thoughts out loud but the people you worked with were used to it so no one bothered to say anything.

“What?” You asked, confused. 

“You called me cute.” Spencer said. “Which is fine. I don’t understand the appeal but I do believe that your blurting of what you perceive as a fact is a coping mechanism. It can also be tied to ADHD, which is a common mental disorder that causes your brain to impulsively say things.” Spencer paused, looking at your face. 

“What?” You asked, again, confused. 

“I’m not saying you have ADHD. I’m a doctor but not that kind of doctor. Although I could get another Ph. D. Prove my father wrong. And…” Spencer realized he was rambling. 

“Cute and a talker.” You said, writing that down. 

You wrote something down on the paper that Spencer couldn’t see but he was curious about. 

“Let’s check out that leg.” You said, pulling out an instrument that looked like a compass. 

You asked Spencer to move his knee certain ways and it wasn’t as bad as Spencer thought. You were gentle, soft even. Your hands were delicate and you ended the session massaging his leg and smiling at him. 

“You were a good patient today, doctor Spencer.” You said, smiling at him. 

Spencer blushed, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You… I mean… I enjoyed our session.” Spencer said. “Which I don’t normally enjoy. Not that I’ve been shot before. Or had physical therapy. Or been here. Or even worked out really.”

“You’re funny, doc.” You smiled. “Your next appointment is Tuesday of next week according to the schedule so I guess I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.” 

Spencer stared at you as he wondered why you were so excited. 

“Why?” Spencer asked. 

“It’s not every day I get the case for a cute guy who is smart and awkward. It’s almost like the heavens have answered my hopes and prayers.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling and putting your hand on your heart. 

“I believe in science.” Spencer stated, grabbing his crutches. 

“A man of science. Does it get any better? What’s your star sign?” You joked. 

“Scorpio.” Spencer stated. 

“Oop. All the scorpios I know have been some hoes. You better not be a hoe, doc.” 

“I’m definitely not a gardening tool, if that’s what you’re referring to. Otherwise, I’d like to thing my lack of dating skills doesn’t qualify as being a… hoe? Although, I don’t believe in the use of the word to describe someone who enjoys spending time with multiple people. I’d like to think the use of the word is meant in jest and fun for a term of endearment.” Spencer stood up, balancing on his crutches. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, walking slowly with Spencer to the front desk. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked, turning to you. He realized that he never got your name.

“Y/n.” You smiled. 

The clouds must have parted again because as soon as you turned to walk away from him, towards Nora, you were covered in another halo. And just like that, you were gone again.

_____________________

Future tag list: 

@ellvswriting @sageandberries-png @l0ve-0f-my-life @rexorangecouny @kennedywxlsh

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[alwaysmychoices]

Hi! Me again! I don’t know if you’ve done this or not or something that might interest you. But HC with Ethan and MC meeting like Derek and Meredith, sleeping together before knowing they work together?

I really enjoyed this one! A. I got to do “research” by rewatching Grey’s. B. I loved the way this turned out. If this becomes it’s own fic, don’t be surprised. 

Ethan & f!MC - Meeting Before Knowing They Worked Together 

When MC walked into Donahue’s on the eve of her first day at Edenbrook, she was determined to have one last night where she wasn’t an incoming resident or a future diagnostician or anything other than a girl at a bar.

Maybe she should have known that a bar that close to a hospital would attract its employees.

But really, when she saw Ethan, she wasn’t thinking.

He was just a handsome man sitting alone at a bar, and she was just a girl.

Neither of them meant to go home together that night. If anything, they felt like they were trapped in some magnetic pull.

They had to talk. Ethan had to buy her a drink, and MC had to move closer. A few hours later, when Ethan called himself a cab, it was a foregone conclusion that MC would be in the backseat next to him.

That night was amazing.

The morning, however…

MC woke up hungover to Ethan’s morning alarm. The 45-second gap between MC waking and Ethan turning off the alarm was as close to hell as MC ever wanted to be.

“Why is it so loud?” she grumbled, covering her eyes with her arm.

“It’s an alarm.”

“Right.”

…

“What time is it?”

“6.”

“What?”

MC scrambled for her phone and emitted a panicked groan that made Ethan do a double-take. Jolted awake with anxiety, MC got out of bed and fumbled for her clothes, which lined Ethan’s floor haphazardly.  

He watched with bemused confusion.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying not to smirk as she mumbled a thousand curses under her breath as she tried to button her jeans.

“I’m going to be late.”

“For?”

“My first day.”

“At?”

“My job.”

Ethan was both amused and frustrated with her insistence on remaining vague. She didn’t seem particularly interested in talking to him, or in him at all this morning. That should have been a blessing. He never liked the awkward, post-sex small talk or the polite feigned interest in each other’s life.

Maybe he was so interested in MC because she wasn’t interested in him.

Either way, he asked her name. She didn’t seem to be offended that he forgot, and a moment later, she admitted that she didn’t know his either.

Ethan asked if she wanted coffee. Nearly tripping as she buckled her wedges, MC said she didn’t have time. He asked for a raincheck.

MC paused, debating how to answer. She didn’t walk into that bar to find someone, nor did she move to Boston with the intention of dating anyone. She didn’t have time for coffee dates, no matter how handsome this stranger was.

But instead of letting him down gently, she walked to his bedside table where he kept a pen and paper for late-night epiphanies. She scribbled her name and number on the top sheet.

And then she had to go.

Ethan called out a goodbye, and though she didn’t return it, she smiled softly in the elevator.

The next hour or so was chaos. MC’s ride back to her apartment was slowed by morning traffic, so running out of time, MC ran upstairs, changed, grabbed what she needed, and ran back downstairs in a panic. 10 minutes into her commute, she realized her phone was dead, and she blindly navigated her new city.

Considering everything, it was a miracle she was only 5 minutes late.

But she was still late.

MC moved through orientation feeling like she was always a step behind because she was late. She made a few friends, all of whom assured her that she hadn’t missed much, but one maintained a sly, condescending smile as if he’d somehow won today’s game by being earlier than her.

She was so focused on making up for lost time that she didn’t notice her familiar coworker until it was too late.

They were in the halls when their paths first crossed.

Ethan saw her first. At first, it was just a quick glance, but when he realized who she was, he stopped dead in his tracks.

MC, coffee in one hand and a chart in the other, kept walking and only offered a cursory glance of intrigue when she saw someone stop in the halls.

She nearly dropped her coffee in shock.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

And then they stared at each other’s IDs.

MC felt nauseous when she read his name. Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Her hero. Her boss.

She had sex with her boss.

And Ethan had sex with an intern!

Ethan opened his mouth to say something – though God knows, he didn’t know what he was going to say – but didn’t get the opportunity. Panicked, MC just walked away.

The rest of the day, she felt like she was in a daze.

What had she been thinking? She should have never gone out last night at all.

Two hours later, they ran into each other again – this time, in a lonely elevator with no immediate exit. They were trapped.

MC spoke first.

“So, you’re… you’re Dr. Ramsey then.”

“I am.”

“Right…” MC evaded eye contact, “I read your book.”

Ethan cringed, “Oh.”

After a beat, he asked, “So, what are you? Surgery? Pediatrics?”

“Diagnostics.”

“Oh.”

Realizing that Ethan was MC’s direct supervisor, they agreed to pretend nothing ever happened. As soon as they exited this elevator, they would never speak of it again. They shared an awkward handshake just before the doors opened.

They fully intended to stay apart, but they kept running into each other.

MC quickly established herself as a promising if flawed doctor. Ethan was intrigued by her potential. After days of deliberation, he decided it would be unfair to refrain from mentoring her just because they made one mistake.

He told himself it was pure professional interest, but if that were true, he wouldn’t have kept her number all this time.

Ethan was hard on MC. His criticisms became so frequent they felt like abuse. He expected a lot from her – more than he expected from any other intern, save for Aurora. She responded to the criticism with improved performance, and Ethan saw no reason to let up now.

She couldn’t reach her potential if she was afraid to grow.

He kept his compliments and growing respect mostly to himself. He worried that, given their past, sharing them would appear inappropriate.

So, as Ethan grew attached to MC, she brewed in dislike.

The differential treatment was obvious. While Ethan flattered himself that he was pushing her to greatness, she just felt pushed and underappreciated. Her success was only met with more challenges. She was exhausted, and she blamed Ethan.

And Ethan had the misfortune of sitting next to her at Donahue’s the night she reached her limit.

He asked if she wanted a drink. She answered with the kind of glare that could slit throats.

Ethan’s reasoning was clouded with MC. Though he recognized her annoyance and knew to leave, he didn’t. He ordered his drink and remained next to her as she fumed.

After 10 minutes of silence, MC finished her third beer and asked, “Why are you such a dick?”

Ethan choked on his drink.

“If you’re just punishing me because of that night, that’s not appropriate. I’m a doctor, not just the girl from a bar you slept with.”

“I am not punishing you, and if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be for that reason.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in her system. Maybe it was months of resentment. Or maybe it was because, no matter what he did, he was still the handsome stranger at a bar. The magnetic draw they found in Donahue’s never waned. She still wanted him to pick up her number and schedule that coffee date.

Whatever it was, MC let him have it.

They ended up in an alley, yelling at each other like the rest of the world couldn’t hear them. Under the cover of false anonymity, they released so much frustration that their voices reached screams.

And then…

Well, they later blamed the passion of the moment.

But, once they had released all of their frustrations, one lingered. They resented staying apart.

So, that night, they didn’t.

In the middle of a screaming match where MC aimed a long stream of expletives at him,  Ethan kissed her. And then MC kissed him. And then they were in a cab, and they were back in his apartment. And… and it started all over.

And the worst part was that they each had a sobering moment where they realized what they were doing, and they did it anyway.

In the morning, they had the same conversation they had in the elevator. This was an unprofessional, irresponsible mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again.

But it did.

And at some point, they realized they were no longer thrown together in the rush of adrenaline and frustration. They were together on the good days and in the smiling moments.

A thousand small decisions tied them to one another.

MC wasn’t just a girl in a bar.

She never had been.

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[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 9

Hegal Place

Alexandria, VA

My footfalls echoed down the hallway as I approached the front door. With a firm push it swung open and I descended the short brick staircase to the sidewalk. I surveyed the familiar rowhomes across the street; small front yards bordered by thin wrought iron fences. A small child was being led by the hand down the steps of one brownstone. I waited for the kid and her mother to walk up the block then I chose the opposite direction. An older model Packard chugged down the otherwise quiet street, coughing an exhaust smoke signal as it passed. That driver should probably see his mechanic sooner rather than later.

As I walked I felt my holster sticking into my right ribs, suppose that’s what I get for hastily slipping it on. It was enough of an annoyance to force me to focus on the task at hand; finding Alex Krycek. The steady afternoon breeze brought in clouds but not enough to predict rain. I still had a few hours before sunset and wished for a drier evening than my previous outing. I sighed and hoped Scully found herself a cab.

A dog bark caught my attention and I saw an excited yellow Labrador happily wagging a tail at an average looking man. As I moved to get a better view I saw the dog connected to a leash being held by a young woman. The average man gave the dog a gentle pat on the head and must have felt my stare because he straightened up and let the woman and her furry companion pass by. I knew it was him by the way he watched the woman walk away. Krycek slipped his hands into his pockets and stood firm on the spot. I ran through a dozen different scenarios of how I would approach him; close-quarters-combat, a strong right hook, or a simple shot to the leg. I honestly didn’t want to draw too much attention. The challenge was having a conversation without sounding like two territorial alleycats. Right as I finished my thought, Krycek took off around the corner.

I swore to myself and tightly gripped the butt of my gun as I followed in pursuit. A footrace was certainly not where I wanted this to go. My lungs burned while my feet pounded against the sidewalk, a stern reminder that I needed to resume my visits to the campus track. There was a flash of a jacket down what I assumed was an alleyway. I slowed my pace and found a proper hold on my gun. I pressed against the brick wall, careful to hide my position until the right moment. Like so many times before I took a deep inhale and with the exhale I glanced around the corner. I ducked back to avoid Krycek’s fist, then I charged forward pushing him farther into the alley. He stumbled and tried a quick jab to my stomach. I tightened up right as he made contact and in return I let my gun give him a kiss on the cheek. Krycek doubled over and spat on the ground. With both hands I grabbed him by the shirt I tossed him against the wall, the tip of my Browning wedged into his abdomen.

“You know as well as I do that a bullet to the gut is a slow way to go,” I said with my left arm braced across his chest, “So you better talk.”

“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” Krycek grumbled with a crimson smile. I quickly frisked him, found his Walther and relieved him of it. I pressed my weapon back into his stomach then said,

“A little birdie told me you were at Washington General earlier today.”

“Is that so?” he mumbled.

“Cut the shit, Krycek,” I responded, applying more pressure to his chest, inching my forearm closer to his throat. He choked out a laugh,

“The redhead! Ah Mulder you sure can pick ‘em.”

“Leave her out of this!” My gun pressed harder into the soft surface of his abdomen. I saw him wince and I twisted my hand hoping I found a nerve,

“Damnit,” he hissed, “I only gave her some friendly advice.”

“Stay away from her,” I growled. He shook his head disapprovingly with a limited range of movement.

“Oh now I get it. You’re sweet on her, aren’t you --ah! -- jesus!” His assumption was cut short thanks in part to my weapon stabbing him in between the ribs. I cocked my gun and felt my jaw clench as he struggled.

“Red got herself involved when she worked on that autopsy,” Krycek sputtered.

I eased up a bit, put the hammer back down but still held my aim.

“What do you mean? Who was the stiff?” I asked, uncertain if I was going to get a truthful answer. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“A nobody by all accounts.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” I shrugged and felt like this was starting to become a waste of my time.

“The body wasn’t disposed of properly. He never should have ended up at the hospital morgue.”

Finally, some clarity. It’s as though the sea of confusion was at low tide, revealing an answer like shells on the shore. I witnessed it myself that night at the Navy Yard. They thought the cabbie would just float downriver and disappear. Now they wanted to cover their tracks as soon as that body washed up near the marina. Scully was just doing her job in the wrong place at the wrong time. Scully. I had to get back to the precinct.

“Are we done, Mulder?” Krycek asked, breaking my concentration. My attention snapped back as he was fixing his shirt.

“Not quite,” I said as I tentatively put my gun back in the holster, “I want to know one other thing; tell me your connection to Spender.”

“Spender?” Krycek’s voice was now hampered with a slur, “God, I am so tired of hearing that name.”

“Talk.”

“It’s like I told you before,” he gestured, “Spender was a hophead. Got a taste of the stuff when he was investigating Vincenti. Do you remember that tip I sold you about four months ago? Turns out your partner wanted to have a private meeting with Vincenti’s second in command. Detective Spender dealt himself right into the drug game on the government’s dime.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because,” Krycek coughed out, “Carlo Lodi told me.”

My mind worked like playing cards being shuffled, each revelation waterfalled onto another until the deck was stacked.

“You told Lodi to put the hit on Spender,” I said pointedly.

“I’m a snitch,” he stated a little too simply for my taste. “Frankly I had had enough of being the information errand boy, so I sold him out. Your partner thought he could muscle in on Vincenti’s pushers and try to expand the trade routes, so to speak. The elder Spender got wise and to keep things kosher with Vincenti and his boys, he ordered a hit.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say Spender’s father?”

“Who do you think helps keep the peace?” he replied rhetorically. I thought for a moment and chided myself for not seeing far enough up the ladder.

“Whose side are you on, Krycek?”

“My own,” he curtly answered, “I don’t care if the mob kills the whole lot of you.”

“As long as you get box seats to the show,” I said. He chuckled and spit a trail of red once again onto the pavement. There wasn’t much more I could add. No more interrogation to give. I returned his Walther and left the alley.

------

After a less than ideal cab ride, I arrived at the precinct and bypassed the front desk, heading straight for the stairwell. As I descended the steps I tried to think of how I would untangle this web I found myself in. I never fully trusted Krycek, apparently Spender did. The new information was swirling in my head and I needed to pin down the facts before I approached Skinner. But first I needed to talk to Frohike and the boys.

The door to their department was ajar, sending a quick surge of adrenaline to my chest. I pushed the door open further and entered the lab, relieved when I saw Langley flipping through a thick-bound book.

“You guys should really put a lock on that door,” I began, “never know what’ll wander in here.”

He chuckled and quipped that instead I should have a bell around my neck so they’d know when I was coming. I asked if Scully had arrived and he directed me around the corner where I practically bowled over Frohike, who clutched a blanket to his chest. I raised an eyebrow.

“I uh -- this was for our guest,” Frohike said softly. I reached over and he relinquished it, then I gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. Scully was curled into the threadbare sofa, she looked exhausted. It surprised me to see an actual piece of furniture in the lab, though I’m sure they needed something other than an army cot for those overnight cases. I unfolded the blanket and gently laid it over her sleeping frame. The sudden weight caused Scully to stir, eyelashes fluttered against the makeshift pillow of her hand. I crouched down and heard a hum escape her lips.

“Glad you made it,” she said with eyes still closed.

“True to my word,” I replied. She turned her head away from her hand and slowly blinked open her eyes.

“Did you find him?”

“I did. We had a friendly chat and a smoke.”

“What actually happened?” she asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“He took a swing at me and I shoved him into an alley; he won’t bother you again. As it turns out, my former informant has his finger in just about every dish on the crime buffet.” I tried to adjust the blanket which had slipped down her shoulder but her arm snaked out, fingers pressed tenderly against my forearm.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Rest for a little bit. I’ll be back,” I left her with a kiss on the forehead then went to round up the boys.

Langley passed by and I gestured for him and Frohike to join me, moving towards the exam tables on the opposite side of the lab. Byers suddenly emerged from the front door with a binder in hand and I waved him over as he muttered something about a body coming in for autopsy.

“Mulder you look like something’s on your mind,” Frohike said.

“Krycek was the one who confronted Scully at the hospital,” I relayed, “After twisting some truth out of him, he told me the body she did an autopsy on should never have been found. He can’t be trusted.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Langley, scratching at a blonde temple.

“I need to give a report to Skinner, he needs to know it was Krycek that put the hit out on Spender.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph it was all true,” Byers exclaimed as he folded his arms.

“We still need to find out who killed Lodi and his henchman,” I said, running a hand over my neck, “It had to come from whoever is at the top of the food chain.”

“Do you think Krycek could actually be pulling the strings? I mean he’s basically been lying to you from the start,” Frohike countered, pushing the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. I nearly laughed aloud but thought long and hard at the potential of Krycek being a crime boss. It would be a hell of a curve ball to try and take a swing at. Langley, Byers, and Frohike exchanged looks as I continued to ponder the question.

“No,” I said, “but I appreciate the creativity. He isn’t loyal to either the DCPD or Vincenti’s mafia family. The profile I’ve developed is that he’s a man who would just like to sit back and watch the city burn.”

The shrill sound of a telephone ring interrupted our conversation. It continued until Frohike broke away to answer it. I heard him agree with the party on the other line, then he shot a glance in my direction. He nodded then quickly hung up.

“The Captain must have a sixth sense or have a bug somewhere down here,” Frohike said as he walked back over.

“I certainly hope we’re not bugged,” Byers responded with a quick look up at the ceiling.

“He wants me upstairs?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Double time,” quipped Frohike. I rolled my shoulders and as I turned to leave I heard a new voice say,

“Leaving so soon.”

The boys seemed to scatter, save for Frohike who was glued to the spot when Scully stepped into the main area of the lab. Her stark white nurse uniform fit a little too perfectly amongst the shelves of science and macabre medical arts. She approached me and Frohike got the hint, trying to busy himself with tidying up the counter behind him.

“The boss is requesting my presence,” I told her, “And I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to him as well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, a look of concern in her eyes, “I could give a statement about what happened.”

“Sorry Scully, this invite is for a party of one.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Planned on it, unless they burn me at the stake.”

“So dramatic,” she shook her head and reached for my hand with slender fingers. With a quick squeeze she added, “As much as you hate to hear this, I’m involved now. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. Let me help where I can.”

I saw Byers timidly approach out of the corner of my eye.

“Excuse me Miss Scully,” he said with a kind wave, “there is a body due to arrive for an autopsy if you’d like to observe.”

“I’m sure we could use her assistance,” Frohike piped up, “that is, if she wouldn’t mind.”

I tried to think of a jab but she silenced me. She gave a pleasant smile in their direction then leaned a little closer, the faint scent of her perfume hit my senses.

“Go. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

I got caught in her blue eyes, only able to manage a simple nod of agreement. My hand slipped from hers and I left the quiet of the forensic lab, bracing myself for the roar of the bullpen and Captain Skinner.

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (10)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre:  family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 6.5K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello, hi! Welcome back! This chapter has a LOT of stuff happening... But at the end of the day, we all want to have a pleasant read, right? I hope you will like this one, I enjoyed writing it a whole lot... 😊💖 Pls let me know what you thought, it helps me so much! Have a good day/night! ^^ Btw what did you think of BBHs cover of BoA? I LOVE IT! Original was already so good and he just made it more speacial by adding his sweet flavor... 💕

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10

-

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was what you've been muttering to yourself for the past two hours on your way back home and basically ever since you turned your back on him. Literally. Because you are that bad at controlling your emotions for some reason.

So as a way to punish yourself, you ended up popping into the nearest convenience store to your apartment and getting chocolates and sweet bakery because you… needed it. You had been dying to put something sweet into your mouth, so it could be hardly taken as a punishment, but you did find it as unnecessary expense, plus you were already halfway through looking like an elephant. But wow, what a sucky day, yucks.

It was one thing to be a little jealous about that girl, and a completely different thing to become cold towards Baekhyun and not even tell him what was bothering you. He didn't deserve that and you felt extremely guilty, to the point that you just entered your quiet, loving home and felt like crying like a baby.

Changing into comfy clothes, you didn't even bother with folding them, instead throwing them into the laundry basket, too preoccupied with your own guilt. Plus, your sweat pants felt tighter and uncomfortable around your thighs. How annoying. You needed to spend even more money now for the stupid XXXXXL size that you were slowly becoming.

You could bet that Jiyoung girl had the smallest size waist-

“Ah, stop it!” you shouted into nothing, tired of yourself and the whirlwind of emotions that you became. How was it possible to switch between emotions this fast? Your period wasn't the kindest but thankfully it was rarely painful and you only had terrible cravings instead of mood swings but this pregnancy was too much.

And in that moment, everything was getting on your nerves. You losing your job. You wanting to surprise your boyfriend. Him smiling like that at another woman. Him smiling. Seriously, why was he even smiling?! You weren't even there, so how dared he smile? Oh, and yeah that woman next to your man! You declining his request to stay until he was done. You should have stayed. You should have stayed and support him, enjoy the way he was doing his passion and maybe you would have understood what that Jiyoung girl was doing. Was she even a student?

You sighed. You wouldn't know. If she would have been a student, you didn't think she would dare to come collect him from his girlfriend like that.

You threw yourself into the softness of your pillows, chocolate bar in your mouth as you took a small bite and let your angry tears fall. This was so not you. This wasn't the strong, independent woman and if you would keep up this game, Baekhyun would notice too. He would see the faults in you.

“Stop thinking, you brat,” you warned yourself. “Stop it! Don't think! Just don't!”

And the worst?! You couldn't even touch your bump in that moment, you were that disgusted. It was all fault of the babies; they were making you like this, creating problems where there weren't any!

Before you could wallow even more, your phone rang. Scrambling quickly to get it in hopes to see Baekhyun's photo as your caller ID, you were surprised to see your mother's name dancing on the screen. That could only mean some bad news as you rarely talked. The last time you talked was nearly a month ago when she was checking up on you and your pregnancy and making sure Baekhyun was there for you.

Ignoring the way your hands were shaking, you answered the phone, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush in your blood causing slight dizziness. It'd been a while you felt lightheaded like this.

“Mum?”

“Hi, daughter,” she gasped, her voice gentle as always. “How are you? It's been a month almost, thought I'd check up on you.”

And there it all went. You started to wail at that question right away, unable to bear your mother's gentle voice. You didn't even realize how much you missed having a mother figure in this period of life, when she could give you advice, guidance and especially deep understanding.

“Are you crying?” she quipped, surprised at the sniffles that would soon follow with stifled sobs. “Oh, my, why are you crying? Is it the hormones?”

Well, was it the hormones? you asked yourself, but you were so incredibly clueless and so incredibly frustrated because of everything that you couldn't get a proper reply. “Ye-yes,” you hiccuped as hot tears streamed down your face. It was that type of crying where you just couldn't stop, the hysterical sobs needing to be let out, tears seeming to have an infinite storage somewhere inside of you.

Your mother sighed, but you imagined her affectionate gaze. “I understand. Although I don't know to what extent is having three babies burdening, any pregnancy is extremely difficult on your body, honey. Just let it all out and don't dwell too much on what is the reason. You don't need it now, so just let it out.”

At that you had to hide your face in the pillow and let out a little wail, because her words were warming you up so much, yet she was far away from you. Oh, dear, she had no clue what a rollercoaster of a ride you had put yourself and your boyfriend through, so you basically had every reason to have these feelings. She didn't even know you had been sacked. That was the reason you were crying, right?

“Is Baekhyun there?” your mother kept on going when she knew you wouldn't give her a coherent answer.

You hiccuped again, trying to make your mouth move. “N-no. Wo-worki-ing.”

“It's almost late evening, though,” she muttered to herself.

It was just 6pm, but the elders always had the specialty of saying “it's late in the night” when it was barely 8pm. You tried to smile at her antics, but it was painful. Because your boyfriend wasn't home. He was at that stupid training of his with stupid women that had to take the stupid hapkido class.

“What did you have for lunch-”

“I got sacked today,” you blurted suddenly and sniffed back big time, not even listening to her words.

“What do you mean you got sacked today?”

“Just exactly what I said. I am jobless.”

“How did you get sacked? You were promoted not long ago.”

You let out a loud breath, your lungs aching from all the crying. It just made more tears well up in your eyes again. “I had an idiot of a boss.” You should have definitely said it was all your fault, but currently you were feeling like the biggest loser in the world. “So it was better like this anyway. I can't even do much, soon I will be huge and… useless.”

Your mother tsked disapprovingly as you heard some shuffling in the background. “What is this silly talk, daughter. What did Baekhyun say?”

You gritted your teeth. “Why do you always ask about him?! He was happy I got sacked, okay?”

“Alright, alright,  no need to shout at your mother.”

“But I don't want to talk about Baekhyun right now, so stop asking me!”

“Oh, I understand now,” she replied back nonchalantly, and some creaking noise provided just the perfect background. “As long as you think you can manage…”

“Yes, I can manage.”

“You and Baekh-”

“Don't.”

She sighed and you heard fire. She was probably warming up dinner in the kitchen. “Did he do something?”

You opened your mouth to retort but were stopped, because YES was your personal answer but NO was the fact. You wiped your tears quickly. “No. I mean... “ you trailed off and rolled yourself on your back, staring at the ceiling. “No.”

“Well then why are you so sensitive? I am trying to see what is wrong and you clearly have an issue with him. You can tell me honestly. Or don't.”

Just then you heard the code being typed in the entrance door, sign of Baekhyun arriving. You groaned loudly and stood up quickly to close the bedroom door before he could get in and have an easy access to bedroom but it was a wrong idea. Seeing black spots everywhere, you felt like your entire body just gained another 40 kilograms as an invisible weight pulled down on your shoulders making you stumble back into the mattress, the world spinning with along with you rather fast.

“I'll call you back,” you murmured softly into the phone and threw it away into the blanket somewhere, trying to make your head calm down.

Baekhyun called out your name, announcing his arrival but you felt like throwing up. You groaned as quietly as possible, scrunching up your face in hopes of stopping this terrible attack. Cold sweat made its way down your neck and you shivered as you felt a huge bulge in your stomach. But you were so extremely disoriented you could barely open your eyes let alone make it to the bathroom in time.

“Baekhyun,” you called out, “please bring me the bucket from the-” gulp, gulp, gulp.

Baekhyun walked into the bedroom but when he saw you his eyes went wide. “What is wrong? Hey, hey, what's- shit,” he cursed when he heard the familiar noise, and ran to the bathroom to get the little pink bucket as you gagged, trying to get on your fours, looking extremely shaken up. Tears were streaming down your face, your knees and arms trembling violently before you saw two feet clad in white socks and then bucket pushed into your face as Baekhyun reached for you with his other hand to keep your balance up. “Shh, c'mon, let it out. Don't keep it back,” he murmured urgently and sweeped the hair that was plastered to your forehead and cheeks away, noticing the snot and flushed cheeks. Just then, finally, you let it all out. Your throat was on fire but your head kept pulling you in one direction into which you would have easily fell if it weren't for the safety of Baekhyun's arms. “Shh, you're doing well.”

Although not seeing his face, you knew he was tense and probably wondering what made you this terribly sick when food and spit kept constantly coming out until it became just violent gagging, nothing able to come out anymore, only caused by your head spinning so much it triggered your stomach. Wasn't it just today that you were thankful for not having to go through this again?

You calmed down after another couple of minutes, completely spent. “Baekhyun,” you murmured, afraid to open your eyes. He hummed as he took the bucket to the side, and looked at you closely as he brought his other hand to your pale face, wiping the tears away. “I'm very dizzy.”

“Look at me, baby,” he murmured, frowning a little and wanting to check the focus in your eyes.

You shook your head ever so gently before your lower lip trembled. “I can't… please,” you said just as you were about to crash on him again, the invisible pull still there.

“Okay. Lay down for me, can you do that?” he asked gently. “I will help you move now, don't get startled.” And he did so, pushing on your shoulders a bit, helping you lie down. He took all the pillows on the bed and put your head under them, by then knowing very well what to do when you got into this kind of situation. “Keep your head up for me, and your knees too,” he whispered and patted your straightened-out legs. You did as he said and heard him move around the room before he came back with the little machine, pushing your arm through the hole to measure your blood pressure.

“Don't cry, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper as he tried to catch every single teardrop while the machine was working. He looked around for a glass of water which, of course, you didn't have.

“I feel like hell,” you said, your voice raw.

Baekhyun was thankful your eyes were closed, for he didn't want you to witness how worried and scared he was. Yes, you did get dizzy and many times sick, but to this extent? Never. He was already thinking three steps ahead, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Beeping sound brought you back to the reality and Baekhyun checked, murmuring the results out loud, his frown now deep. “We are going to the hospital,” he decided.

“No!” you shouted, opening your eyes to look at him but you almost saw three Baekhyuns. Usually, you wouldn't mind but it made you want to throw up again. You were fast to close them, scrunching your face. “Please,” you sobbed, scared. “Make it stop! But don't call anyone!”

Baekhyun was already calling ambulance, leaving the room in case you would have a tantrum. He knew your blood pressure was skyrocketing and it made him worried sick; he didn't know what to do. Plus, he was told by your doctor that if your blood pressure reaches a certain level, you were eligible to call for ambulance.

As much as he hated you crying and going through this, he was there with you, every single step at a time.

-

“She will be alright,” said the doctor that was in the emergency room, checking your vitals on his clipboard. “She needs to rest for now, but,” he shook his head gently and looked up at Baekhyun whose eyes were bulging in fear of what was to come. “Her blood pressure was too high. It isn't good for the patient, neither it is good for the pregnancy.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, it is very likely that she will have to endure this until she gives birth. Triplet pregnancy is a bit different than the usual ones. Since premature birth is highly possible to happen, which also may affect the health of the children,  her not monitoring stress levels or taking good care of her body may also influence the health of the kids.” He sighed. “She is bearing a lot right now, so there are high risks of her fainting if this continues. As you told me, she had been struggling with high blood pressure this whole time, correct?”

Baekhyun nodded quickly.

“Well, she is in the fifteenth week which means almost half-way through till due date… It should have subsided by now but we can't do anything to change it; only give medication, unfortunately. Multiples' pregnancy is full of surprises.”

Baekhyun felt so helpless in that moment. Why did he get the feeling the doctor was clueless in a way too?

“Will she survive?” he asked seriously.

The doctor smiled gently. “She is completely healthy, so there is no risk of her losing her life, but this was definitely a dangerous situation. She shouldn't be left alone for too long as this occurs unexpectedly. It is rare anyway to have such strong reaction to high blood pressure, but this is what it takes to live for three more lives, I suppose.”

Oh, how Baekhyun wished he could take at least half of the burden you were bearing.

The doctor patted him twice on the shoulder before leaving. He looked at you, your sleeping figure so peaceful compared to couple of hours ago when you looked white as death and just about to pass out. 

Sighing, he reached for your hand, gently squeezing it before murmuring a soft I love you. You were going through all of this because of him. He made you pregnant and now here you were, fighting for four lives: the unborn babies and your own.

His phone vibrating was what interrupted his train of thoughts. Quickly searching for it in his winter jacket, he saw your mother's name flashing on the screen, bad feeling already eating him away. Should he tell her where you were now? He would only make her worried.

“Hello, mother,” he answered, trying to make his voice as normal and even as possible while stroking your knuckles with is thumb.

“Oh, thank God you picked up, Baekhyun! I've been contacting my daughter for the past hour and she wouldn't answer. Are you with her now?”

Gulping, he said: “Yes. She is, uh, sleeping now.”

“Silly girl. I called her earlier today to check up on her and caught her in a bad state of mind,” she explained, her voice sounding exasperated. “She kept crying but wouldn't tell me why. This is none of my business, my dear, but did you two have a fight?”

Surprised was an understatement to Baekhyun. First of all, you didn't necessarily fight, it was your weird mood that created negative tension between you two but it was certainly not a fight; second of all he had no clue you were having such a mood prior to his arrival although he did see your swollen face and eyes. “No, we didn't have a fight. She has been acting strangely today, that is true. She lost her job and maybe the hormones and all…” he trailed off, trying to justify your actions though he himself wasn't sure.

“Yes, she told me she lost her job, but to me it didn't seem like that was her main issue. Let me be honest with you, Baekhyun,” she said and Baekhyun didn't have a good feeling about what was to come. “She didn't even want to hear your name. I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but it would be healthy if you both talk. You know she cannot get this upset while being pregnant. She was choking on her own sobs.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes and left your hand so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Just what the hell was up with you? “She came to visit me at the university today, but she had such a change of mood, mother. I was shocked myself and I try to understand, I really do but it has been difficult recently.” Let alone she was lying to me, he thought but kept quiet.

Your mother sighed again; she trusted Baekhyun and wasn't doubtful about him at all. She also knew what pregnancy mood swings meant, so she was not blaming entirely you just as she knew Baekhyun could have been falsely accused. She knew him ever since he was a baby after all. “I understand, sweetie, and I am not blaming you at all. I will let you rest. I know you also don't have it easy, dear,” she added, affection lacing her voice, “so please I just ask you to have some patience with her for now. She can be a handful.”

“I do, mother, you know I do,” replied Baekhyun right away, looking at your sleeping face. “I can't get mad at her even if I want to.”

At that she laughed. “My sweet boy. I hope I can call you my son-in-law very soon.”

“Actually yes. Sooner than later.”

-

You found yourself seated on the wooden bench, a book about multiples' pregnancy perched on your thighs while you tried hard not to stare at your boyfriend clad in his hapkido uniform.

He was currently leading his class with Jiyoung, the girl because of whom it all went downwards. Bitterly, you stopped yourself from blaming it on someone like her. It wasn't her fault. Why, you ask? Because…

Few days ago

“Can you explain to me what happened on Monday?” murmured Baekhyun as you were both lying in bed, the dimmed light on his side still on, as he just finished going through his notes from the previous lectures. It made you resent yourself even more knowing how much he had on his plate, yet you couldn't even control your emotions as soon as he stood next to a pretty lady or he looked at you weirdly.

You sighed, rubbing your temple as you were lying on your back. Baekhyun turned his head to look at you, pausing, contemplating. Then, he slowly changed positions, lying on his right side, his hand slowly dragging on the surface of the mattress, reaching your hip and sliding it up over your belly that was sticking out, giving it gentle rubs as he waited patiently for you to talk.

“I won't get mad,” he had the need to add which made you scoff, and him chuckle.

“It's so fucking stupid, Baekhyun, and don't say I can't swear while being pregnant.”

He frowned gently. “Well, it obviously made you upset,” he argued, “so it cannot be fucking stupid.”

He saw you gritting your teeth, and he slid his gaze over your profile, how the light was illuminating the part of your face to which he was turned to. He honestly thought you looked breathtaking and would have kissed you whole night if it weren't for the confusion he was currently feeling. In that moment, he wanted answers more than anything.

“What is Jiyoung-” you trailed off and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow, “to you? To your class? To… hapkido?” Asking, instead of answering him. Great. Although, you weren't expecting silence that followed. You imagined him chuckling at your ridiculousness but he didn't. He didn't and it almost made you lose yourself once again, but he spoke: “She is a master like me,” he spoke softly, and you focused on his warm hand sliding over your belly. You turned your head a little to catch his gaze that was already burning holes on your face. “I didn't tell you until I was sure, which I became on Monday, but then things happened…”

“Sure about what?”

“I am leading the hapkido universiade team with her, but I am the main master,” he revealed, his face still in a gentle frown. “She was assigned to do it together with me, so that is why she was there during practice, too. And she will be from now on until July.”

“But is she like a teacher at Sungkyunkwan or something?”

He shook his head. “She is from Kyunghee university where she is the head of department. There was a  joint alliance with them for the hapkido team and also, if we win this, I might have a chance to work with the National team later on,” he explained patiently, not tearing his gaze away from yours.

So many things you were founding out, so many good news. That meant Jiyoung was older than Baekhyun! That was definitely good news! And you ruined it all on Monday and you completely misunderstood the entire situation.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, closing your eyes. Humming in response, he now caressed your cheek, his thumb making slow circles. “I'm so sorry. For being the way I was. What you just said,” you stuttered, opening your eyes, urgency in them, “is all amazing news and I couldn't be any more proud of you.”

“Shh, it's okay, princess,” he whispered, scooting closer to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, “I thought… I was… jealous, so jealous. I shouldn't have let the emotions control me like that. I shouldn't have just left you like that. I apologise,” you said sincerely, staring into his eyes that were now casted in shadow as he was with his back towards the light. Yet, the burning behind his eyes could hardly go unnoticed by you.

“You are so mean when you are jealous,” he blurted, intending to make you chuckle which he succeeded in, but then it disappeared just as quickly and you nudged his cheek with your nose to get more out from him. He sighed, eventually. “You know you can trust me, right? You know I would never want to lose your trust despite you lying to me.”

At that, you whimpered, pouting and widening your eyes at him, still terribly ashamed for what you had done.

“It's okay, I am not holding grudges,” he insisted, “but you know I can't stand you not trusting me, hm? I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and with our kids,” he murmured and at that he caressed the belly yet again as he buried his face in your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. “So why do I have a feeling you keep doubting me?”

You stiffened, but his caresses didn't cease, which meant he wasn't upset. You raised your hand, playing with his hair as you mumbled: “No, I don't doubt you at all. It's the hormones. It's the babies. You know that before getting pregnant we were just fine.”

“I know,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning the skin on your pulse point, “it is always the babies fault, right?”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he asked, curious as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Just… I apologise, Baekhyun.”

His eyes searched your gaze. “And I forgive you. But you need to promise me you won't get so worked up over nothing in the future.”

“I won't.”

“By nothing I mean anything. If it isn't a life or death situation, I don't want you to pay it too much attention.”

You watched his mouth move as he spoke, going on about what the doctor said, what the books said about triplet pregnancy, what he thought would be the best for you. And you tried to listen, you really did, but you were head over heels for him; he was mesmerizing and he understood your crazy whirlwind of emotions, and you loved him. So much.

“Are you listening?” he asked, snapping his fingers two times in front of your face. “Young lady, you keep zoning out on me.”

You smiled at his playful manner and he reciprocated the gorgeous grin as he leaned in closer. “I am listening, I am. I just realised once again how much I love you, Baekhyun.”

His grin turned into an affectionate, lopsided smile and he eyed your lips before flicking his orbs back to yours, murmuring your name. “And I love you. Do you understand? I love you. Only you. Can you actually understand?”

“No,” you whispered, dreamy look on your face as you were bewitched by him. He shook his head, and reached for your face, brushing the baby hair out of your forehead. “It's difficult to get it through my thick head that someone like you loves someone like me.”

“How would I make you understand then?”

“Show me. I want you to kiss me, it's been too long.”

He leaned in more, his eyes constantly flicking between your lips and your eyes as he muttered with narrowed eyes: “You're horny again, aren't you?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you sneaked your hands around his neck, bringing him closer. “For you? Always.”

He chuckled just as he kissed you, smiling widely into your mouth before playing with your lower lip, going straight for a gentle bite that he knew would ignite the fire in you.

“Are we doing another make-up sex?” he murmured between kisses, slowly climbing over you and you gladly widened your legs for him.

“Uh-uh, you're making love to me because you need to show me you love me.”

He kissed your neck, laughing quietly. “You're shameless.”

“So are you. Now, do your magic, honey.”

And now here you were, as per his order, watching him. As you would be every week whenever he wasn't home. If he could have, he would have dragged you to all his lectures as well, but you managed to talk him out of it. Honestly, you didn't mind this at all, as you really enjoyed observing him teaching hapkido and doing all the cool moves he was so smooth at doing. It was true you would get tired and wooden bench was only so comfortable for you to sit through couple of hours.

During the break, Baekhyun jogged to you with an energetic smile and leaned in to give you a quick peck. “You good over here?” he asked as his team erupted in big laughters, everyone enjoying their break time.

You beamed up at your boyfriend. “Yes, all fine.”

He smiled even wider at that, ruffling your hair as he looked down on the book in your lap. “Is it any good?”

“Well, for sure although I'm learning some disturbing stuff,” you muttered, worry flashing through your eyes that made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows.

“We will finish in 50 minutes and then you can tell me all about it, how is that?” he asked gently, and grabbed your cheeks to observe you closer.

You giggled and he seemed satisfied. “Alright, let's do that.”

He was just leaning in for another kiss when someone cleared their throat muttering a little excuse me, making Baekhyun move away from you. “Jiyoung.”

“Sorry to disturb, but I think it would be better if we stay longer today. For practice, I mean,” she said, her eyes wandering over to you and a bit lower, obviously looking at the baby bump. She snapped her eyes back at Baekhyun's questioning face. “It's better if we start going through basic kicks now, just so the kids can remember each technique correctly and from then build on it.”

You watched Baekhyun's back, but he was relaxed. “The kids are black belts, 4-5 dans in at least, though,” he replied diplomatically, “I don't see the point in going through basic kicks. Techniques should come to them as second nature by now.”

“I still think we should start having longer practices,” she insisted. “So your girlfriend might be a bit uncomfortable sitting here for such a long time.”

Wow, you thought, she was actually dragging you into this somehow. Interesting.

“I don't mind,” you heard yourself say before you could think twice. “So do whatever you deem correct.”

“Not today, no,” Baekhyun decided. “After December we will be good with longer practices if necessary,” he emphasized. “If we don't slack off, we can manage just fine.”

She gave a confident smile. “Alright then. I suppose you won't mind if we start the class now.”

What a bitch, you thought again.

“I won't mind. You may start,” was Baekhyun's curt nod and he turned around to face you, his actions heating your cheeks up as he crouched in front of you and took your hands in his before bringing them up to his lips.

“Alright, master.” And she was gone.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, but the excited glint in your eyes told Baekhyun you loved what he just pulled.

“Prioritizing you.”

You smiled graciously, and leaned in, pecking his lips.

-

Couple of weeks went by, you following Baekhyun to his practice, while you were found your way back to knitting that you so diligently used to do when you were younger, your mum teaching you as a little girl. Trying hard not to sound annoyed or desperate for any activity, you made sure you were always smiling and at peace in your mind. You promised your boyfriend you would look after yourself and that was what you had been trying to do. You even managed to sell some of the scarfs and gloves you knitted, given it was now nearing the end of December.

You smiled up at Baekhyun who dismissed the class, not waiting until Jiyoung and the students leave. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” he replied, some perspiration on his forehead glistening in the practice room. “Can't wait to have a rest.”

You stood up to your feet slowly, minding your blood pressure, and reached for a handkerchief before grabbing his hand so he wouldn't move away. “Let me,” you murmured as you reached up and tapped the textile gently along his hairline.

His eyes focused down on you, affection and love melting his features into the softest smile. “Thank you.”

“We don't want daddy to catch a cold, right?” you chirped enthusiastically.

Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow at you, never hearing the nickname leave your mouth before. You would always get extremely embarrassed when he called you mummy, so this was a new discovery. “Yeah, otherwise how would daddy protect mummy, hm?”

Just as expected, you grew red in your face and quickly looked around, making sure no one was too near to overhear.

“What? You started,” he laughed quietly before leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving it with a loud smooch and moisture on your skin. “Mummy.”

Your eyes widened and you laughed along with him before he moved to pack up his stuff. All the students who were now leaving farewelled cheerfully, always enjoying how flustered you would get from the attention, because master Baekhyun's girlfriend is so cute! and of course, he would encourage them, showing you off, which always warmed your heart.

“Not tired?”

You turned to the right to see Jiyoung approaching, a glass bottle in her hand as her high ponytail swung with each step she made. “I'm okay, thank you. Aren't you tired?”

“Nope,” she said, the p sound bopping like a bubble. “Master Baekhyun has been a bit slacking off with the workouts, eh?” she chuckled, nudging Baekhyun who was putting on his jacket with her elbow.

“Well, I can always make it especially hard for you, Jiyoung,” was his confident reply.

Oh my god, he was so hot you actually had to cross your legs while standing.

She smirked. “I would love to finally find out what does this especially hard mean, master.”

Well, you definitely didn't find her confidence hot. If anything, you wanted to warn her not to challenge Baekhyun too much.

“Alright, especially hard it is then,” he concluded just as he zipped up his jacket and took his gym bag, slugging it over his shoulder.

Jiyoung's eyes sparked with excitement, you could see that. It was always there, actually. Coming to the practices with him for two weeks, you kind of learnt to read her. She was a professional, you knew that much. She wasn't openly hitting on your boyfriend, no. It was in these subtle talks that irked you because you couldn't do anything about them, just tolerate and trust Baekhyun. Which, he really not once made you doubt - his trust. He would always prove you his love to you, and you to him. It was so obvious. He only had eyes for you.

Even now, as he stood in front of you, touching your hip gently and sliding his hand to your lower back to lead you out and saying his bye to the disappointed face of his hapkido partner, you knew it.

“Baekhyun,” you said once outside on the half-dead campus as you were making your way to the bus stop, the dark sky not showing any clouds which only meant another freezing night.

“Yes, angel.” He intertwined your fingers and pushed the connected hands into his pocket.

“I was thinking… What if I just went home?”

He stopped walking, looking at you a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I feel a bit useless, you know. But also quite tired from all of this,” you said showing your belly that was sticking out. “So I thought I would visit home.”

“But we have regular check ups at the clinic,” he replied, his eyes wandering over your features. His nose was growing a bit red which you found adorable, which is why you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a little peck on it.

“I know… but if I would miss one appoint-”

“No.”

“Baek-”

“You are not missing an appointment, baby,” he said, this time more sternly as he looked down at you, his hair that was trapped under a red beanie made his soft hair fall into his eyes.

You pressed your lips together, understanding his choice. “So, I would go only for two weeks.”

Something flashed across his eyes, something that you couldn't decipher. “What about me?”

Yes, what about Baekhyun? “You have lots on your plate right now,” you reasoned, squeezing his hand that was trapped in his pocket. “You could study better, and focus more on the practices. And, you could totally go and have a good time with your friends, or even invite them over, hm?”

“You actually think I would let you travel alone? With your blood pressure?”

“C'mon, by KTX it takes an hour and a half and then taxi just twenty minutes out of town.”

You felt like you were contradicting yourself. You, the one who was always trying to save up money was willing to pay a lot just to travel. KTX tickets were already very expensive. Taxis as well. But there was very little public transportation going to your village and you didn't feel like taking it with your big belly.

Baekhyun didn't say anything for a while, just staring at you. “Why this sudden- need?” is what he asked eventually.

“You know I miss mum,” you mumbled, averting your gaze. 

“I know it's difficult,” he sighed, the action condensing his breath. “But I can't let you go by yourself, no way. Besides,” he added eagerly, “it's Korean new year soon. Can't you wait just a little longer? We both will be going home for that, you know that.”

He was right. It was literally around the corner.

“It's just in two weeks time, hm?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows at you, pleading to say yes. When he saw you contemplating, he mumbled: “I am not letting you go alone, anyway, so you better agree.”

You huffed in disbelief and dragged him towards the bus stop. “Let's go home. I will think about it.”

“Tomorrow we have a double-date with Chen's, did you forget that too?” he said as he let you drag him after you.

“No, I didn't. I would have gone the day after.”

“Well, you wouldn't leave me alone for such a long time, right?”

That made you stop and turn to him just to witness the puppy eyes and a prominent pout that made you smile softly at him as you walked even closer, resting your forehead on his jacket-clad chest. “I hate even the idea of not being with you for two weeks, Baekhyun.”

“Exactly. So just wait until we can go together, hm? Please? I don't want you to go. I can't even sleep without you anymore.”

You chuckled and leaned back, catching his small smile. “Alright. I think.”

He whined your name before he grabbed you by your waist with his free hand and brought your hips closer as he hovered a bit over you. “Alright, I won't go is what you wanted to say,” he muttered before kissing you hungrily. It was such a contrast; outside, the air was freezing, but your hot mouths pressed together, his body glued to yours as he breathed in loudly before tilting his head, asking for access with his eager tongue was hot, burning up. You moaned quietly, just for him to hear and he growled in response, a satisfactory hum leaving his throat while he circled your tongue, sucking on it, making you gasp because you were in public. He kissed you, and kissed you until you were completely breathless, until you were fully convinced that he didn't want you anywhere far from him. Even if it meant he could focus more on his practice, studies and whatever else you just listed. Even if it meant a short time.

He didn't want you away. And that was final.

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Empire State Of Mind

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

Warning: None

Summary- (FLUFF)(CRACK)the story of how Peter Parker got over his fear of heights (I was inspired by one of Peter's lines in the Spiderman ps4 game)

A/N: Okay this is me getting back to fics because apparently the only way I can actually get inspiration to write is if I'm procrastinating sooooooo since school has started I guess there will be lots of that lol

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

When Peter told Ned about his fear of heights, he completely freaked out.

"You can't be afraid of heights. You're Spiderman!," he whisper-shouted at their lunch table. "How can Spiderman be afraid of heights?!"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno, maybe I'll just have to get over it eventually."

"But if the spider gave you strength, perfect eyesight, and all those other awesome things. How could it not give you the ability to not be afraid of heights?!," Ned asked, utterly confused. "I mean, spiders aren't afraid of heights."

"Yeah Ned, I know. But-"

"And if spiders aren't afraid of heights then when the spider bit you, you should've picked up that trait too, right?"

"Ned-"

"-Maybe you just got a really lame spider. Maybe the spider that bit you was afraid of heights and he was a spider outcast and-"

"Ned!"

When Peter told MJ about his fear of heights, she immediately mentally prepared herself for his funeral.

"How is Spiderman afraid of heights?"

Pete groaned. "I don't know..."

"I knew it," she sighed. "You're gonna die."

"Wait, what?"

"You can't be out there saving the city while being afraid of heights. That doesn't mix," she explained matter-of-factly. "You're gonna die."

"I'll get over it, MJ. I just have to keep trying."

She shook her head. "Whatever you say, loser. But when you die, the only thing I'll be saying at your funeral is 'I told ya so'."

When Peter told Harry about his fear of heights, he teased him about it relentlessly.

Peter braced himself. "And before you say it, yeah I know: 'How is Spiderman afraid of heights?'. Ha. Ha. Funny."

Harry tossed a pretzel into his mouth. "That's pretty pitiful, Pete," he snickered.

"Yeah I know-"

"-You're supposed to be the 'Amazing' Spiderman, not the 'I-can-only-save-you-if-we're-under-fifty-feet' Spiderman."

"You know what? I'm just going to stop telling people," Peter mumbled, hiding his face into his hands.

"C'mon, I'm just messing with you, bro," Harry teased. "But seriously, how can Spiderman be afraid of heights? That's like Ironman being afraid of iron!"

Peter stared. "...it's really not though."

"Whatever." Harry reached over to ruffle Peter's hair with his hand. "Just come to the penthouse tonight and I'll throw you off the roof. Bam. Fear conquered."

"..."

When Peter told you about it, you did the natural Stark thing to do, and helped him out...after teasing him of course.

"How the fuck are you Spiderman and you're afraid of heights? How does that even work?," you laughed.

"Ugh, not you too [Y/N]," he groaned.

"Why're you scared if you've got your webs?," she interjected again. "As long as you remember those, you can't fall."

"That doesn't really help."

"Wait, so you save all those people in tall buildings while you're so scared of heights? Wow. You're even more awesome now."

Peter shrugged it off. "I guess when the moment comes to save people, I kind of have to push the fear aside, y'know?"

"Aaaand why are you even telling me this? What, you want me to fix you or something?" You laughed again, slapping the table. "I'm good with robots, Pete. I'm not a wizard."

Peter shuffled in his seat. "Well I-i was kind of hoping that... maybe you could h-help me?"

You raised an eyebrow. "And how would I do that?," you asked, giggling a bit. "Push you off avengers tower?," you teased.

"A-actually I was hoping for the Empire State Building..."

You paused. "...wait, what?"

Peter nodded in response.

"Pete..I was only kidding... Like really, are you being foreal?!"

He smiled, patting his hands on his lap nervously. "Will you?"

"You're going to fall off the Empire State Building to get over your fear of heights?," you asked.

He nodded uncertainly. "Yep."

"...And you want me to push you off said building?"

"Yeah pretty much," he confirmed.

You stared in disbelief for a moment before checking your watch. "The things I'll do for your dumbass," you sighed. "Alright. Meet me at the top of the Empire State at four. But if you die...I will not be held responsible.

--------

Peter crawled cautiously along the side of the Empire State Building, being sure to never look down.

'You're not that high, Pete. You're not,' he told himself. 'You're only like twelve....t-twelve....hun....'

"Twelve h-h-hundred fucking feet off the fucking ground oh my goshhh!," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as he continued up the building. "Oh my God, please let me live."

He crawled with his eyes closed until he couldn't feel the thick glass wall anymore. Peter jumped over the railing of the 103 floor observation deck and finally placed his feet on solid ground.

"Wow, Spiderman. You're literally shaking," he heard your voice laugh.

Peter looked at you, wide-eyed as you sat on top of the railing, legs pointed outward, facing the city. "How are you not terrified right now?!"

You shrugged. "I literally take the iron suit for a joy-ride like every week. Heights don't bother me. Now, are we doing this or not?"

"J-just.. gimme a second," he mumbled. "You can do this, Peter. You can do this," he pep-talked himself. "You got this."

You remained sitting on the railing and swinging your legs, trying to give Peter some space to get himself together.

After what felt like about ten mintues, you looked over at him. "You okay over there, Pete?"

Peter took a deep breath and gave a small nod before peeking over the side of the building, which he quickly realized was more than just a big mistake on his part. "F-fuck no!" He quickly stepped back until he was the furthest he could be from the edge. "It's too high! I-i can't do this!"

You groaned. "C'mon, Pete. Wasn't this your idea anyway?"

"Actually it was sort of Harry's!," he stammered. "...[Y/N]..I-i really don't think I can do this."

You ran towards him, cupping his face with your hands. "Hey, hey... relax. You're gonna be okay. You hear me?"

Slowly, he began to nod. "...O-okay," he sighed and took the time to prepare himself again. "I think I'm ready."

You backed away a bit. "You sure?"

"..no."

"Look," you said. "Y'know, you don't have to do this if you really don't want to."

"No," Peter declared, squeezing his eyes shut, his hands turning to fists. "No, I said I'm going to do it today. So I have to do it today. I have to."

"Well then let's do it."

"But I can't!," he whined.

You groaned. 'If this dork doesn't make up his mind.'

Then it hit you.

"I guess when the moment comes to save people, I kind of have to push the fear aside, y'know?"

He'd told you the answer to his problems without even knowing.

"Got it," you whispered.

Turning around quickly, you climbed back over the railing separating the standing area from the edge of the building with a mischievous smile.

Once comfortable, you started to rock, swinging your legs back and forth. "Golly gee, Peter. I sure hope I don't fall!," you yelled dramatically in the perfect 'woe-is-me' fashion.

Confused, he looked up from where he was frozen in place. "[Y/N], what?"

You continued to speak dramatically and robotically. "Oh it would be such a shame if maybe I were to..." You gestured a person falling with your hand until it finally reached the end. "Splat!"

"[Y/N], c'mon. Stop."

"And I suppose if I were to happen to be plummeting to my death-" you looked over at him with wide eyes. "-The only person capable of saving me would be the AMAZING Spiderman!"

"[Y/N]. I'm not kidding around. Seriously, this is dumb."

"Gee wilikers! I guess my life is in your hands now Spidey!," you smirked before throwing yourself off the edge of the Empire State Building.

"[Y/N]! What the fuck!"

"Whooooooooooooo!," you yelled as you fell, confident that he would catch you.

Rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath, Peter immediately threw caution to the wind as he jumped over the fence. The only thing on his mind was catching you.

'You idiotic bitch of a girl that I love...'

Gathering his crazy surroundings, he looked around until he finally saw you. And there you were, free falling and whooping like you were on a rollercoaster and not actually almost dying.

'Okay, Pete,' he thought. 'Save her or Mr. Stark will literally kill you..Plus your girlfriend will be dead... yeah definitely that too.'

"[Y/N]!," he yelled.

"Any time now, Peter!," you shrieked once you felt you'd been falling for a bit too long. "C'mon, I know you can do it so how about you FUCKING DO IT!"

Finally catching up with you a bit, he shot a web out to pull you towards him, and then shot another on the building.

You gasped when you felt something yank you upwards. Immediately after you were scooped up by a blur of red and blue.

"I've got you, [Y/N]," he gasped out, one arm holding you while the other was busy holding the two of you up with the webbing. "I've got you."

You held onto him tightly and let out a laugh of relief. "I knew you would," you giggled. "That was awesome."

He began to laugh too. "Oh my gosh, you crazy little adrenaline junky!"

You smirked in response, looking around at where you were now "Sooo.. we're hanging off the Empire State Building..what now?"

Peter looked around too. "Uhh-" he smirked. "-wanna go for a swing?"

"That's just the adrenaline talking, Petey," you informed. "But I mean, I'm down if you are. You're not still scared?"

"Oh I'm terrified," he laughed before leaning in for a quick, messy kiss. He stared at you with nothing but love in his heart. "But I'll be fine as long as I've got you."

The next time Peter found himself swinging through the air, the last thing on his mind was how high he was going.

@spideyyeet, @soft-petey, @hey-its-grey, @allegra-writes, @chaoticpete, @underoosjae, @allegra-soleil, @sovereignparker, @lost-space-ranger, @kelieah, @spidey-reids-2003, @spidey-boy-89, @thesherlockianavenger, @crappy-unicorn

[thisbrokenmask]

Thank God For Haunted Houses

pairing: female reader x jung hoseok

genre: fluff, romance, humour, best friends au, friends to lovers

word count: 5,219

rating: PG i think? there’s kissing but that’s about it

warnings: none, really, very brief mentions of the experience of a haunted house attraction

summary: you’ve had a crush on Hobi for a while but you never expected him to return your feelings. so, when your friends make it so that the two of you have to spend some time together, you’re not quite sure where the night will lead you... 

a/n: hey look it’s me again! seems like I can’t stop writing these @btsholidaybingo​ prompts and I’m not sad about that at all. I’m quite enjoying having lots of ideas and being able to write them, too! today’s offering is a request from my best friend, who loves the idea of hobi venturing into a haunted house in order to please the girl he likes. so, here you go!

evidently, this fills my ‘Haunted House’ prompt ☆★

The rich smell of buttered popcorn and sugared doughnuts fresh from the fryer sits heavy in the air, so strong that you can taste them with every breath you take. Neon lights whizz and whirl against the dark blanket of the night sky above you while the bells, whistles and heavy beats of EDM music rings out from all of the rides around you. 

Your adrenaline levels are still soaring high as you come bounding down the steps, fresh off of the pirate ship with Jungkook and Jin’s laughter following close behind you. You spot the rest of your group and bound over to them, dodging and ducking through the crowds despite Jin’s cries to wait for him and Jungkook. You spy your bag still over the same shoulder that was offered to you ten minutes earlier, before you dragged Jin and Jungkook onto your third go on your favourite ride of the night. They were the only two still willing to ride it again, the rest of the group having their various excuses. Yoongi and Hoseok especially had eyed the swinging boat incredibly skeptically, neither of them climbing aboard for even one of your multiple goes on the ride tonight, offering to look after the bags instead. Which was exactly the reason you would give for you making a beeline straight towards the latter of your friends. 

“That was amazing!” you cheer as you fling your arms around Hoseok’s shoulders, your own bag knocking into your leg from where it hangs off of Hoseok’s shoulder. Your smaller height makes him stagger slightly as you beam over his shoulder to the rest of the group, but he quickly balances himself without letting you stumble even once. His left arm is closest to you and he reaches it across your front to curl around your waist, a toxic-looking blue slushie held in his right hand. You know it’s simply meant to help steady you but you can’t help the flutter that erupts in your chest at his touch, your still-rapid heart rate no longer anything to do with sitting at the very end of the pirate ship in order to experience the highest rise. 

“Have fun?” Hoseok chuckles as he smiles at you over his shoulder, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes rather than turning his face towards you; you’d be nose to nose if he did, and you’re both perfectly aware of that. Swallowing the slight disappointment at Hoseok once again choosing the option that doesn’t bring his lips closer to yours, you let your arms slide from his shoulder to wrap around his arm instead, holding the limb close like a favourite teddy bear. You nod eagerly, though, pushing your smile wider as you answer him. 

“Yeah! Would be much more fun with you, though, oppa.” You pout, reminding him of all of his vehement refusals to get on nearly any ride so far this evening, but he playfully rolls his eyes instead as he shakes his head. 

“I don’t know how you ride that thing, let alone come off it looking so damn happy,” Yoongi mumbles from the other side of Hoseok, his dismissive, faux-uninterested tone one that only makes you grin even wider. 

“I bet it’s not the only thing she enjoys riding so much,” Jungkook cuts off your response, teasing you in a low tone as he and Jin finally catch up, joining the circle. Jungkook puts his arm across your shoulder, his large hand gripping you and pulling you close, leading you to unintentionally let go of Hoseok’s arm. 

As you turn to push Jungkook off by pressing your hands against his chest, you miss the way Hoseok’s gaze drops to the floor and a small frown creases his brow for just a moment. If you’d asked, he would have told you he was simply speculating Yoongi’s comment, wondering how you could in fact ride something like the huge pirate ship behind him and not faint from dizziness. He wouldn’t tell you he was finding it more and more difficult to see you and Jungkook becoming so close, even though your closeness in age made it logical that you two would get along. He wouldn’t say how he felt a spike of jealousy in his heart whenever Jungkook made inappropriate jokes with you, wondering whether you two were secretly more than friends.  

Jin rolls his eyes at the youngest but fails to hide the smirk on his lips, the incredibly relaxed atmosphere of the evening so far letting him put down some of his usual walls without concern.  

“So, where next?” the eldest asks as he accepts a sip from the drink Jimin offers him, a bright red yet slightly melted match to Hoseok’s. The question prompts as many different responses as there are people, everyone talking at the same time until Jin calls a hush over all of you with another roll of his eyes. 

Jimin wrangles Jungkook into agreeing to join him on the waltzers, the two of them having quickly found out the ride operators are willing to spin their car incredibly fast and challenging each other to see who can last the longest. 

Yoongi bemoans the fact that his hyung still hasn’t taken him up on his challenge to any of the fair games so far, yet shrugs when Jin asks if he’s ready to eat his words on any game of his choice. 

Taehyung anxiously fiddles with the camera hanging from his neck, saying he wants to wander round and see if he can get any good pictures that capture the night’s atmosphere. Namjoon offers to accompany him, announcing his feeling that there are some lyrics to be found if he walks around long enough, his phone already open on a half-written notes page. 

“What about you, Hobi-hyung?” you almost scowl at the mischievous smile on Jungkook’s lips, painfully aware of the fact that you’d trusted the maknae enough to tell him of your crush on Hobi now that it’s only the two of you left. As you look around the group, in fact, you realise everyone is watching the two of you a little too closely for friends simply deciding their next steps. You don’t hold back your glare this time as you round on Jungkook, and he has the decency to blush as he realises you now know he’s let your secret slip.

“Er, I don’t know, actually,” Hobi frowns as he mulls the question over, glancing around at all the stalls surrounding you. “What do you wanna do?” he asks, turning to you with a smile, your bag bumping against his hip as he still has it slung over his shoulder. 

“Me?” you blink, surprised he’s asking you when he knows you both sit on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to rides and rollercoasters. You can’t deny the rush of joy, however, at the prospect that he’s choosing to spend the next portion of his evening with you. 

“Well, everyone else already has plans,” he jokes, but you feel your bubble burst at the realisation he’s only asking because he’s been left with you. Everyone else has paired up; why else would you two?

You try not to let your disappointment show, instead answering him with a simple shrug. “I don’t mind.” Hobi frowns, concerned about your sudden dip in enthusiasm. He knows you love fairs and theme parks, practically anything that could give you an adrenaline rush; another reason why he assumes you and Jungkook would make an annoyingly good match. He always worries that you find him boring or childish for not wanting to go on the rides, yet he comes along anyway purely to see you in your element. Seeing you deflate so suddenly makes him want to do whatever he can to cheer you up, even briefly considering going on the pirate ship for the first time in years just to see you smile again. “Why don’t we just walk around?” you suddenly suggest, a small smile on your lips instead as you reach out to take your bag back from his shoulder. “See if anything jumps out at us?” 

“Hopefully not literally,” he mumbles and you laugh, pulling your hair out of the way as you drop your bag onto your own shoulder. 

“Right, meet back up in half an hour, then?” Jimin and Jungkook barely acknowledge Namjoon’s question before running off, already teasing each other about who will feel sick first and announcing what they want from the other if they win. Taehyung is still adjusting his camera settings as he starts walking in seemingly any direction that takes his fancy, Namjoon quickly throwing an arm around his shoulder to guide him through the bustling crowds. 

“Which way are you guys headed?” Yoongi asks while Jin is already eyeing up a few of the nearby game stalls he believes he has a decent chance of winning. Yoongi’s cat-like eyes are watching you intently from where they’re nearly hidden under the black beanie he’s wearing, and you can’t help but feel like he’s almost daring you to follow him and ignore the chance to be alone with Hobi. His eyes briefly shift to glance over your shoulder towards a part of the fair you know you haven’t really explored yet, and you can’t help but smile at his subtle way of trying to help. 

“Why don’t we explore a bit that way?” you ask Hobi, pointing towards the unexplored area, and Hobi easily agrees with a smile as he takes another sip of his drink. “We’ll see you guys later, then?” Jin nods with a wave before rapidly telling Yoongi which game he wants to try first, the younger silently following his hyung without a question. 

It feels a little bit awkward at first, given that you and Hobi haven’t often spent much time together just the two of you, but the further you walk, the more at ease you begin to feel. You walk closely together, your arms brushing against each other every now and again and you silently curse Hobi for keeping his hand closest to you in his pocket. Part of you likes to think you’d be bold enough to try taking his hand as you walked, even getting ready with the excuse that it would stop you from getting parted in the crowds. But instead his hand sits snugly in his pocket and you fiddle with the strap of your bag as you walk instead. Still, you enjoy sharing Hobi’s drink, passing it between you every few sips, and even stop to watch a few people attempt to win at some of the games you come across. 

There aren’t many rides in this part of the fair, mainly stalls for games, food, and even some small independent businesses selling handmade jewellery, some of which catches your eye. You hesitate over a beautifully intricate bracelet, a small silver chain with alternating purple and black gems hanging from it, but you end up walking away with the decision that you’ll come back when it’s time to meet back up with your group. 

At one point you stand beside Hobi and watch from a distance as several overconfident guys slowly drain their pockets at a tin can shooting game, each of you taking bets at how many times each guy will slam more money on the table before he walks away. Hobi boldly assumes they must all be single and you immediately question his claims, to which he simply responds that if he’d seen something he’d wanted for his imaginary girlfriend, he’d keep going until he ran out of money. You tell him you’d be annoyed if your imaginary boyfriend did that, as you’d rather he spent his money on something you’d shown interest in rather than boosting his own ego for something you didn’t particularly care for. You eventually wander off after a large group blocks your view of the game, Hobi quietly following behind you a few seconds later. When you take a glance at him, he looks thoughtful, but you’re distracted by a group of kids running past before you can question him. 

It’s only when you find yourself in a small clearing that you realise you’re on your own. You figure you must have accidentally separated from Hobi at some point during your browsing, which would have been easy enough given how many people were wandering around between the stalls. When you can’t spot him after a minute or two, however, you start to panic, especially considering the fact he’s in a bright yellow hoodie tonight and you still can’t spot him in the crowd. 

You’re normally not too bothered about being by yourself in a crowd, especially when you know friends are nearby, but for some reason the idea of being lost from Hobi is almost enough to bring tears to your eyes. Your hand goes straight into your bag to pull out your phone and you try to ignore the slight shake in your fingers as you bring up your recent conversation with Hobi. It’s just as you’re about to press the call button that you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. 

You spin on the spot to see Hobi standing before you in all his glory, bright lights in his dark eyes and a lazy smile on his lips that transforms into a worried frown as soon as he sees your wide eyes. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I thought I’d lost you!” you scold him with a gentle shove to his chest before letting him pull you in for a hug.

“Sorry, y/n-ie,” he chuckles with a squeeze to your waist. Your ear is pressed to his chest, his laugh a rumble in your ear, until he lets you go again. “I just went to throw that drink away, I finished it while I was waiting for you.” His hand stays on your lower back, acting as a tether between you as the crowds continue to bustle around about you. You turn your face away to hide the blush that warms your cheeks at his teasing tone, but Hobi mistakes it for you being annoyed at him for wandering off. He turns your face back towards him with a gentle hold on your chin, then tucks your hair behind your ear as he gazes at you thoughtfully. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

The touch of his hand on your cheek makes your knees feel weak and wobbly, all words leaving you high and dry as you simply stare back at him, his dark eyes glittering in the flashing lights that surround you. All you can muster is a small “it’s okay” and a slight rise of one shoulder, barely even a shrug, but it’s still enough to make Hobi smile. Without thinking, your gaze drops to Hobi’s mouth, wondering whether he would lean in and press his lips to yours like you dream about if you asked him to. His tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip and the brief flash of pink snaps you out of your stupor, drying out your mouth and hastening your heartbeat all in one go. 

You look around you rapidly, desperate for a distraction from an impulsive and potentially friendship-ruining decision, anything to take your mind off the thought of finding a dark corner big enough for two. 

“Hey, look!” you turn on the spot to point towards the sign that’s caught your eye, signposting an attraction that you haven’t seen before. “A haunted house! We should totally do it.” Hobi, however, isn’t so keen. 

“I don’t know, y/n-ie,” he scratches the back of his neck, a pout on his lips when you turn back to him. 

“But there’s no queue! We could go straight in!” 

“You know I don’t like that kind of thing,” he looks at you, expression somewhere between pleading with you to change your mind and wanting to make you happy, his eyes full of affection for you. His pout gets more pronounced with each second that passes, clearly conflicted, and you can’t bring yourself to push any further. You know Hobi doesn’t like haunted houses or anything with actors that can jump out at him from the shadows, so it would be cruel of you to force him into something only you would enjoy. You check the time on your phone and work out that you could probably make it back in time for a walk through with Jungkook and Taehyung before you leave for the night, as long as everyone is back to meet up on time. 

“Okay,” you turn to Hobi with a smile. “We won’t go in. I’ll see if JK and Tae will come back with me once we all meet up.” You put your phone back in your bag and look around you with a sigh, not because you’re disappointed but because you’re not sure what else there is around this part of the park. Hobi, however, once again misreads you and decides that if it’s the haunted house you want, it’s the haunted house you’ll get. He grabs hold of your wrist and starts walking towards the entrance, you floundering behind him. 

“Oppa? What are you-?”

“Two please,” he says to the attendant, handing over his money while still keeping a firm hand on you. 

“Hobi, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do,” he says as he guides you inside, still holding your wrist but his grasp has loosened slightly now.

“Why?” 

“Because you want to,” he says, your faces barely inches apart when he turns to you. You see his eyes glance down and you subconsciously wet your lips, heart hammering with the sudden proximity. He rapidly blinks a few times before turning towards the door that leads to the entryway part of the house. “You might not have time later, so, it’s not fair for you to miss out. Come on.” With that, he lets go of your arm to open the door and ushers you to follow him with a nod of his head and a smile. 

You’re pretty sure that if you weren’t already falling for your friend, you definitely would be now. His willingness to even step towards the haunted house just to make sure you wouldn’t miss out is enough to set a warmth blooming through your chest so intense it could bring you to tears. You’ve seen Hobi put aside his fears for his loved ones before, especially when it comes to his band members, but you’ve never seen him so determined to do something he knows he’ll still be scared by. 

Of course, Hobi will do anything for his friends, you’ve seen it enough times in the ways he’ll join in with Jungkook’s games so that he can have two players, or the way he’ll help Jin and Yoongi cook in whatever way he can. Even for you, he’ll set aside his work when he can to keep you company, or let you sit in his studio when he can’t ignore his deadlines. Now that you think about it, this is not the first time he’s ever put aside his fears for you. You remember the time you were terrified by a moth that had made its way into the kitchen one night when the two of you were up late, you making the drinks and Hobi by your side making late night snacks for you both. Despite his own fear of bugs and creepy crawlies, he’d ushered the little creature back out through an open window and closed it for you, a proud smile on his face when you thanked him with a hug. 

Multitudes of other similar cases flashed through your mind, including all of the little moments that didn’t require Hobi to put his own comfort on the line for you, whether it was offering you his seat during a crowded movie night or wordlessly putting your favourite foods on your plate for you during a meal. 

You follow him into the darkened room, thankful that he wouldn’t be able to see the tears threatening to fall as you came to the realisation that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t one-sided after all. Your emotions were quickly becoming overwhelming to the point that you felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you were sure your ribs were aching from how hard your heart was beating inside your chest. Closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you calmed yourself down enough to take in your surroundings. 

Now that your eyes had adjusted, you could see the door on the other side of the small passageway that led into the first proper room, a few portraits hanging on the walls on either side. You eyed them carefully, assuming that at least two of them would have either moving eyes or little doors that would allow actors to pop their heads through.

“Watch out for the paintings,” you say to Hobi in warning, taking a few steps ahead of him to lead the way. You feel him follow closely behind you, a hand tentatively on your lower back, fingertips barely brushing over the small part of visible skin between your top and your jeans. You’re determined to protect him as much as you can to thank him for coming with you, so you focus on using all of your prior experience to help him out. You’ve been to haunted houses and a few horror mazes with Jungkook before, Taehyung coming along to some of the more recent ones, too, the three of you united in your love of adrenaline rushes and all things scary. 

Just as you predicted, one portrait on either side bursts open, actors leaning through to scream and yell and make awful noises in your ears. It makes you jump, but poor Hobi screams out behind you and your hand shoots out behind you to grab onto his without thinking. His large hand engulfs yours, the other shooting out to grab onto your shoulder and you try not to laugh at the brief flash of surprise on one of the actor’s faces at the volume of Hobi’s yell. 

You pull him through the next few rooms, struggling with trying not to laugh at how Hobi’s yells are louder than the actors and his refusal to let go of you even when he’s almost stumbling over you to get to the next room. You can’t even find it in you to be mad at how he uses you as a human shield when he panics, hiding behind your shoulders when the actors jump out of hidden doors or run out from behind a curtain. You barely even register the decor and props around the house, only having enough time to take in the dining table covered in cobwebs and the kitchen sink filled with lumpy fake blood before Hobi is pushing you forward, desperate to get to the other end as quickly as he can despite the rushed apologies he keeps muttering into your hair. 

It’s only when you get to the final corridor that you realise how quickly you’ve gone through the house, half-running the whole way round thanks to Hobi, but you’re not even disappointed in the slightest. The experience of doing a haunted house with Hobi at your side is one you’ll not only never get again, but it’s made all the more special by knowing he would never willingly do this for anyone other than you. You’re sure of it. 

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Hobi’s holding your hand so tightly you fear it may turn purple but you can’t stop laughing at his desperate slew of apologies. 

“Hobi-oppa, it’s okay!” you manage between wheezing breaths, barely able to stand up straight as you lean on your knee with your free hand. “Are you alright?”

Hobi’s pushing his hair back from his face when you look over to him, his skin pale with a sheen of sweat on his forehead that catches in the light. His grip on your hand is still tight but it’s as if he doesn’t realise he’s still holding onto you, deep breaths pushing at his chest as he tries to steady himself. 

You straighten up and move closer to him, placing your hand on his chest and feeling his hammering heart beneath your palm.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you tell him, finally gaining his attention so that he looks down at you. “I appreciate it, really I do,” you continue, smiling gently as you push some of his hair away from where it’s close to falling in his eyes. “But I could have waited. I wouldn’t have even minded if I hadn’t gotten to go in.” 

“Don’t tell me that now!” he whines dramatically and you laugh, squeezing his hand where he still holds you by his side. 

“I’m sorry,” you grin, bringing your free hand back down to his chest. “I still enjoyed it, although I’m more worried about you.” You eye him curiously as you ask your next question. “Why did you do that?”

Hobi’s gaze is steady as he looks down at you, breath finally levelling out. There’s no smile this time, just pure, unadulterated sincerity as he says, “because you wanted to.” 

You don’t even hesitate to lean up and press your lips against his, clutching the material of his shirt to pull him closer. His lips are soft and warm against yours and your mind is reeling with the realisation that you’re finally kissing him, here in the middle of a fair, both of you still high on adrenaline.

After the initial second passes and you don’t feel him kiss you back, you feel panic rising in your throat and you go to pull away, but a strong hand appears on the back of your neck and holds you close. You feel him kiss you back, a firm pressure on your lips, and a small whimper escapes your throat in relief, joy and lust for the man holding you. Feeling his fingers gently grip your hair threatens to buckle your knees and you feel him chuckle against your lips, the two of you finally pulling back to look at each other. 

The widest grin lights up Hobi’s features as he takes in your blushing face before leaning his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that,” he confesses quietly, only loud enough for you to hear amongst the hubbub of the fair around you. 

“Really?” your voice is no more than a breathless whisper, a torrent of emotions flooding your body.

“Really,” he confirms, leaning back and bringing his hand from your hair back to your cheek. “The guys have been telling me to hurry up and make my move. I think they were getting sick of me pining over you,” he laughs, though the blush on his cheeks gives away his sudden bashfulness. “That’s why they made sure I was the last one so you’d pair up with me.”

“I thought they did that because Jungkook told them about me liking you!” you exclaim, your hand leaving Hobi’s shirt to point at yourself, your shock evident on your face. Several emotions flutter across Hobi’s features and you’re sure he wants to know more about you liking him, but right now he seems as content as you are to enjoy this moment of finally being honest with each other. 

“Well, all that matters now is that we know,” he says with a smile, brushing your hair back and tucking it behind your ear before tracing your jaw with his fingertips. 

“We do,” you confirm, returning your hand to his chest before pushing it up and over his shoulder, running your fingers through his dark hair at the nape of his neck. He leans in this time, taking your bottom lip gently between his own as his hand curls round the back of your neck, finally letting go of your hand only to hold you by the small of your back and pull your body close to his. Your now-free hand goes to his waist, bunching the material of his shirt between your fingers.

“Damn,” he breathes out as he pulls away. “This is even better than I imagined,” he grins, making you giggle and hide your face against his neck as you blush. “Does this mean I can give you this now?” he asks, keeping his hand on your back as he reaches into his back pocket and you look up, your curiosity piqued. He pulls out a small, folded paper bag with white and blue stripes, holding it out for you to take. You unfold it and tip out its contents to see the same silver bracelet you had been looking at earlier, its black and purple gems catching the lights around you. 

You look up at him in surprise, your questions clear in your eyes but not able to make it past your lips. “How did you-?”

“I saw you looking at it earlier, and then you said about wanting your boyfriend to get you something you’d actually like, so I went back when I threw that drink away,” he tries to appear nonchalant as he shrugs, but he pulls at his ear nervously and you smile, catching his choice of words.

“So, you’re my boyfriend now?” 

“Uh, I mean, I-” he’s flustered and you can’t help but laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist. “D-do you want me to be?” He looks down at you cautiously, hopeful but hesitant, and you nod.

“I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, considering I just kissed you twice in the middle of the fair, I’m not sure what more confirmation I can give you, Hobi.” He rolls his eyes playfully before wrapping both arms tightly around your waist and pressing numerous pecks to your face, from your nose to your cheeks to your forehead and finally your lips, although the last one is much more gentle and he takes his time with it. 

Parting for the third time, he rubs his nose against yours, a wide smile on his lips and yours. You’re not sure how long the two of you stand there wrapped up in each other, but you finally bring yourself to pull away from him. 

“Put it on me?” you ask, holding out the bracelet, and he carefully clasps the jewellery around your wrist, running his thumb tenderly over the chain. “I think we have to head back now,” he says, though you can hear the reluctance in his voice.

“Do we really have to?” you ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck and you feel him inhale sharply. “Can’t we just… not? Head home just the two of us?” Hobi’s chest rumbles as he laughs but his arms tighten on your waist, holding you close for a few more seconds before letting you go. He takes your hand in his, though, and gently intertwines your fingers as he starts walking you back to the spot you’d departed from just half an hour earlier. 

Half an hour, you think, that’s all it took for everything to change. 

Thank God for haunted houses. 

[wackapedia]

Among Trees

Jungkook x Reader ft the rest of the boys having some good ol fun

Youre part of the Run BTS staff, following around JK as his camera girl

Wordcount: 1.7k, two or three swear words, maybe goosebumps at the end

It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of the woods when you began filming a new episode of Run BTS. You were a part of the camera crew, documenting the members of the world’s biggest boy group and chasing them around for their shenanigans. As usual, you were assigned to the group’s maknae and your long term friend, Jeon Jungkook.

The objective of today’s episode is to race against the opposing team in collecting as many clues as they can which were scattered around the forest park. The clues will help them unlock a treasure box placed on the cabin that the company had rented out. The group was divided into two after a tense rock, paper, scissors match. Team Kim Seokjin consisted of Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook. Soon enough, everyone got ready as the producer started counting down.

“Hana, Dul, Set!”

The members immediately bolted out of the main camera frame, prompting yourself to follow your assigned team. Jin and Yoongi catches up with Jungkook after a good distance to discuss their team’s strategy. “Aish, how many clues should we find?” Yoongi complains, already hating outdoor episodes. “We need to have more than what the other team has…” Jungkook supplies, having already found two clues. “But we don’t really need to find a lot of clues, we just need to get there first.” Jin suggests while looking around the woods. “If Namjoon gets there first, he can just figure out the treasure box which is why we have to get there first.” He continues, leading the team uphill and deeper into the woods. “Namjoon hyung may be smart but Jin hyung is dangerously clever…” Jungkook comments into the camera and rolling up the long sleeves of his shirt before running up to follow his hyungs.

You were struggling to keep up with the most energetic member, having to jog in a rocky uphill path while keeping your lens forward and making sure your GoPro isn’t blocked by your handheld camera. Your intercom radio buzzes unintelligibly from your pocket. One of the production staff’s voice is mangled among the radio static. You stop to catch your breath while extending the antenna of your radio. "What? I can't hear you!" You yell into the receiver. “Y/n…Out of range…” was what you make out of the crackle of noises. “Oh shit…” You mutter under your breath. “Guys!!” You continue to follow the uphill path Jin had cleverly chose to try to one up the opposing team. “Guys we need to go back!!” You exclaim. Your voice echoes through the wide forest. They were nowhere to be found. “Oh shit oh shit…” You reach for your cellphone. No service. “Y/n! We’re here!” Junkook calls out to you. He and the rest of his teammates were crouched down beside a tree. “Hey guys we need to go back.” “y/n, come here, do you think this is a wolf’s print?” Jin interrupts as he continues to analyze the large set of scratches on the tree trunk. “It’s not a wolf, Jin. There are no wolves here.” Yoongi exasperatedly answers. “I don’t know what that is but PD-nim said we need to go back. We’re out of range.” You explain to the members who were fussing over the marks. “Out of range? Weren’t you supposed to tell us that?” Yoongi squints his feline eyes at you. “I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the markers and didn’t notice them. Let’s just head back, okay?” You take the blame just to pacify Yoongi. It was starting to get dark and the staff must be looking for them. “Isn’t it your job to notice things? Or were you too busy noticing Jungkook?” Jin snaps suddenly, causing Jungkook to intervene. “Yah, hyung that’s enough!” Jungkook yells, stunning everyone. His voice echoes through the forest. The sun had set and the fog begins to seep around the tree trunks. You tremble behind Jungkook, hands rattling around the handheld camera. “You think I don’t know what’s going on between you two?” Jin continues anyway. Yoongi moves past Jungkook to grab your camera. “Stop recording. Give that to me.” Yoongi throws the camera,smashing it against a tree. A loud noise suddenly interrupts everyone who arguing in the middle of the forest. The loud snapping noise didn’t come from where Yoongi tossed the camera. Everyone faces where the noise supposedly came from.

The fog was growing thick while the sun’s last rays kiss the earth goodbye. The blinking lights of each member’s GoPro weren’t enough to see what's ahead. The loud cracking noise continues, incrementally moving closer and closer. “What’s that?” You ask, voice shaky.

No one could make out exactly what it was but it was a large figure, neither human nor animal. It was grotesquely shaped, crawling while dragging its lower half against the leaves of the forest floor. It didn’t talk, it didn't growl. It only made rattling noises that were sure to haunt you in your sleep.

“Run!” Jin was the first to head downhill followed by Yoongi. Jungkook pushes you before him, breaking your trance and causing adrenaline to rush through your veins. He follows close behind. The coldness of the night pinches against your face as you continue to run. The creature's heavy footsteps are close behind. Jin's panicked screams resound while Yoongi screams at him to shut up. Jungkook, from behind you, tells you to keep going.

Your feet continue to scramble against the mud and leaves causing you to trip and roll downhill. After a few rolls, you collide against Jin who had also rolled his way down with Yoongi. You see a couple of street lamps illuminating the main path. “Are you okay?” Yoongi pulls you up and dusts the leaves off your hair, a stark contrast to the Yoongi that had yelled at you earlier.

A beam of lights from ahead temporarily blinds team Kim Seokjin. “YAH WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” The producer’s voice blares through his megaphone. The rest of the staff and members were aboard the bus that had beamed the lights. “I’m sorry, sir. It was my fault. I didn’t notice we went beyond-“You begin to apologize profusely to your boss before Seokjin cuts you off. “It was my fault. I led them up the hill. I’m sorry I should've been more responsible.” Jin takes the blame and bows deeply to the staff. The rest of the members stood at the threshold of the bus. Namjoon pats Jin's head. "We heard you screaming. What happened?" Namjoon tries to lighten up the situation. "Something was chasing us." Yoongi deadpans, alarming Hoseok who lodged his head through the bus window. "Wait, where's Jungkookie?!" Jimin yells from inside the bus. This alarms the staff who had only noticed the maknae's absence. Taehyung shoves himself between Namjoon and the bus door to head towards the woods. "JUNGKOOKIE!!" he yells. Yoongi tries to pull Taehyung back to the bus, trying to silence the younger man, in fear of the creature coming out of the woods. "We can't leave him out here!" Taehyung pulls away but is stopped by the rest of the members. "Taehyung-ssi, get back to the bus. Everyone get back to the bus. We'll stay here and call the police. Leave the search to them before another one of you gets lost." The producer's imposing voice startles everyone. Taehyung's teary eyes plead to Namjoon who leads him back to the bus.

The ride back to the cabin was begrudgingly quiet. Taehyung was breathing rapidly while Jimin tried to keep him calm. Namjoon sat beside you. "Do you remember what happened out there, y/n?" His calm careful voice interrogates. "Yeah.." You nod. "We didn't notice we crossed the zone, we kept going up and Jin found some wolf scratches on a tree.." You turn around to face Jin who held a somber expression. "That's the last thing I remember.." He says. "Yoongi too..." "What?" You ask, feeling more confused. "The next thing I remember was that it was already dark and something was chasing us. Jin kept on screaming, and then we were rolling down the hill..." Yoongi continues. "y/n, what was chasing you?" Namjoon asks. The rest of the members waited for your answer.

"I don't know.." You started to cry. "Jin and Yoongi were in front of me and Jungkook told me to keep running.." "Okay, lets get some dinner and then we'll check the camera footage from your GoPros, alright? Jungkook will be fine. I'm sure of it." Namjoon reassures everyone as the bus finally pulls over at the cabin.

You were supposed to head to the staff trailer van as the boys unload their bags from the bus. You were surprised to find that the cabin's lights were on and there was smoke coming out of the chimney. There was also someone in the house. No one was supposed to be in the cabin yet. The original plan was to document the boys entering the place and play a game to decide which room they'll be sleeping in. You run to the front door, overtaking a startled Hoseok. All the lights were on inside the house. The place was warmed by the fire in the fireplace. The place smelled like a good warm meal and.. something else. "Whoaaa Jin hyung doesn't have to cook now!" Jimin cheers, dropping his luggage in a corner. The rest of the members walk into the kitchen and were all surprised to find him here. "Jungkook!" Taehyung yells, bolting himself toward the younger man. Jungkook looks around dumbfoundedly as the rest of the members crowd around to hug him. His expression remains stoic.

"Are you hurt?" "How did you get here?" "Hey where did you get all this food?" "You're fine, right?" His friends flood him with questions.

You continue to observe the man who looks like Jungkook as Namjoon excuses himself to call their manager, reporting that Jungkook is here in the cabin. "I don't know how but he's here, hes okay, and he cooked us some dinner." The group's leader chuckles into the phone. Dinner. You look around to find the dining table full of food. All sorts of meat, neatly laid out. Why is there so much food? You return your gaze to the group, and to the thing that assumed Jungkook's visage. You witness Taehyung continuing to inspect who he believes is Jungkook. He takes the pretender's arms, rolling his sleeves to find it clean. No cuts. No bruises. No tattoos.

------

------

a/n: i screamed lmao let me know ur thoughts 

[henryobsessed]

I Took You Home - A Rocking Chair

Summary: Reba gets to meet her son

Word Count: 1700

A/N is at the end of the chapter

Warning: None 

Previous Chapter 17

Chapter 18

The next two days were a blur for Reba, she slept a lot, and it was a potluck when she awoke who would be next to her. Today she awoke feeling better, the pain medications were not making her feel so sleepy. She had awoken to Henry sitting by her side, he had a hold of her hand, but his attention was on his phone. The tiny cries of a football game could be heard coming from the phone's speakers which must have been set to low to allow her to sleep. His face broke into a huge smile and she could see him trying not to jump out of his seat, his body holding the adrenalin in. She could feel the tangible excitement radiating through his hand as she heard the tiny voice say "touch down for the chiefs"  

She chuckled lightly at him causing his attention to leave the phone and move to her. "Good morning" he leant over and kissed her gently on the forehead. Settling back in his chair he asked "how are you feeling? Can I get anything for you?" Reba thought for a moment before requesting her greatest desire "Can you organise for me to see our son, I need to see him" a softness crossed Henry's face and a small smile lifted as he said "Ok, I'll go talk to the nurses" with that he stood and left the room. Reba was grateful he didn't question her or ask if she was really ok to move. No matter what she wanted to see her baby today.

Henry returned with a nurse, a young man who seemed to be conversing comfortably with him. "Well good morning, my names Adam. I believe you would like to take a trip?" his big smile and a warm voice filled the room. While chatting away with Henry about the American football game he checked her observations and got her some medication. Smiling broadly at her he said, "I'm going to get a chair for you, by the time I get back the medications will have taken effect and it will make the ride more enjoyable." She smiled back at Adam matching his enthusiasm "thank you"

Together with one in a wheelchair the other walking beside they entered the room. For Henry this room was now very familiar, he had spent every spare moment he was not with Reba with his son. For Reba, this was her first time and it was quite overwhelming. As Henry pushed her closer to the clear box that held their tiny infant her heart rate increased, tears started to swim in her eyes as Henry stopped the chair and placed his arm around her. "Sweetheart, this is our son" His tiny little body rose and fell in time with the breaths that left his little milky pink mouth. His little feet kicked out as he stretched and yawned. Reba wanted to sob, wanted to break the box open and grab her little man and hold him close. Yet at the same time, she knew he needed to stay there to be protected for just a little while longer to keep him safe.

A nurse came over and opened the box allowing her to reach in and touch her boy. His skin was silky soft and warm, she ran her hand over his little body checking his toes and fingers. Through her soft tears she said, "Hello little one, mummies missed you" As if registering her voice his lids opened and looked at her with the bluest pearlescent eyes. Henry's hand rubbed her back as if to comfort her as they took in the sight of their son. Clearing his throat, he asked, "So what shall we call this little one, did you have an Idea, Reba?" Her son held her gaze as if asking his own silent question. "I was thinking of my father's name, and now that I have seen him, I think it fits well. What do you think about Angus?" she waited for a response from Henry never leaving her little one's face "Mmmmm, Angus, little Gus. I like that, Angus Collin Cavill is that ok Reba?" swearing Angus heard them his mouth turned up in a smile then burped. Laughing she shifted her gaze up to Henry's smiling face "I think he likes it"

They stayed with little Gus for as long as they were allowed then Henry walked her back to her room. She was tired after her first excursion to see her son and ended up falling asleep almost as soon as Henry helped her back into her bed.

     That evening after resting Reba was sitting up watching the news, Sandy was with her and she had just assumed that Henry was with Gus. Hearing the loud chatter of people, she wondered who on the ward was receiving so many guests. It wasn't until the noise got louder that she saw Henry followed by an older Man and Women plus 4 strapping tall men who looked older than Henry bar one. Henry had an apologetic smile on his face as he bent down to kiss her forehead and whispered " I'm sorry I held them off visiting for as long as I could" Heat radiated up her cheeks as she restrained herself from slapping Henry for not warning her. Her hair was a mess and she was thankful she had just finished expressing the evening's milk.

They all stood looking slightly awkward until Reba decided Henry needed a nudge "So are you going to introduce me? Or do I need to guess who these charming people are?" swallowing then chuckling Henry set about the introductions "Well, Reba this is Maryanne, my mother, Colin my father, and my four brothers Piers, Niki, Simon and my youngest brother Charlie. Everyone this is Sandy Reba's closest relative and ........" Turning to Reba with soft eyes and a cheeky smile "this is Reba, the mother of my child and soon to be my wife"

Nervously she looked at Maryanne and Colin not sure what response Henry's declaration would bring. What she got was more than she could have imagined. Colin and Maryanne's eyes sparkled, and a huge smile broke out on their faces. The boys all smiled big smiles and just nodded their heads. If anyone had walked into the room right now, they would have laughed seeing all these goofy smiles surrounding Reba. Her biggest wish now was that she would be able to introduce Gus to his family for she had an inkling that he would be smothered in love.

Two days later Reba was discharged, her wound was healing well and they needed the bed. Grateful to Henry's family they had organised another hotel room so that Henry and Reba could be close to Gus. He had been doing well but they wanted him to gain a few more grams before he could come home with them. Arriving at the hotel Reba was sore and tired, the effort it had taken to make the short journey made her wonder how smart it was of the hospital to send her home. They walked slowing to the ground floor room. Once inside she laid carefully on the bed grateful this hotel had spent a bit extra for nice mattresses. Just as her eyes started to close, she felt the bed move and warm body cuddled up behind her. Snuggling back, into his embrace she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

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

Henry awoke to the feel of Reba tucked into his arms, he had slept lightly, well aware of every movement Reba made. He wasn't sure if she was ok with him sharing a bed yet, but she had relaxed in his arms and he took that as a sign it was ok. He slowly got up and looked at the time, 4 pm just enough time to go up and see how Gus was going. He kissed Reba on the top of her hair and left a note next to her bed. Henry had felt familiar love with his Nieces and Nephews, he would do anything for them. What he felt for Angus was so different there was a constant pull to be near him, to make sure he was safe.

Arriving at the NICU, he took his normal place. The big plastic box was gone and now his son lay with a heat lamp above allowing more access. As he sat a nurse came over, she smiled at his son and said "Its almost his feeding time, he has reached a weight we are happy for him to have skin time would you like to do the honours?" an overwhelming sense of panic hit him at the request. His son was so fragile would he hurt him by holding him? Seeing Henry's reaction before he had a chance to answer the nurse said with a comforting voice "You don't need to worry you won't hurt him. We will be there the whole time and help you out"

https://realbabymilk.org/skin-to-skin/ Image from this site not my own image

He breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his agreement not trusting his voice. They walked him over to a rocking chair that was big enough to hold his frame, next they asked him to open his shirt so Angus can have some skin on skin time with him whilst feeding. Finally, they bought Angus over they laid him in his large arms, looking so tiny he made sure he was laying back, so Gus rested against his chest. He watched as they handed him the bottle, he stroked his cheek as he had done with his nephews causing Gus to start a sucking motion as Henry gave him the bottle. So many emotions ran through Henry's heart and mind, every goal he had ever reached, the highest heights of his career could not compare with what he was feeling right now with his precious son in his arm.  

Unbeknownst to Henry, Sandy had come to see Angus. The view she saw she committed to memory to share with Reba. The big man, relaxed shirt open, with his tiny son tucked safely in his arms. Still the greatest image was the look of love on Henry's face as he gazed at Angus with unabashed tears silently running down his cheeks.

Next Chapter 19

A/N This one took longer than I wanted I hope the next few will flow a bit easier. The image of Henry's large chest being a pillow for his little son had me crying. My husband and I are attempting our last round of IVF at the end of this year I could picture us in this situation. (we have been unsuccessful so far)

nice side note - I was a 4 pound 5-ounce baby in a humid crib my dad would come in and sing to me every day - he worked at the hospital as an orderly. I almost made Henry sing and I know he can from Hellraiser but he makes such a deal about not singing in his interviews that I decided to keep to his ethic.

As always your comments are such an encouragement. :) 

I have Tagged people who follow me and who I follow if you want to be removed or added please let me know :)

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[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  Ok what if TK is injured on a call (somehow idk) and then his dad and carlos are really worried? 😘😘😘

prompt:  How bout a TK whump fic where he gets injured on the job and the team and Carlos are super worried?

Did either of you ask for Carlos to stupidly go and save TK? No. Did I write that anyway? Yes.

Carlos will never understand how Owen can keep a calm composure when he sends TK running headfirst into danger day in and day out. He knows the 126 is working under cautious orders to ensure everyone’s safety, but he can never shake the pit of anxiety that builds in his stomach each time he watches TK’s back as the latter rushes into his job. 

Today’s no different, a one-story house fire that he and the 126 have been called to. The house is practically engulfed in flames by the time every one arrives, bright reds and oranges dancing around smoke that’s pouring from shattered windows. Owen barks orders the second the truck comes to a stop, and Carlos is able to steal a quick kiss to TK’s lips, a small peck that TK smiles against, before TK pulls away and shoves his helmet over his head. 

“How do you do it?” Carlos asks Owen when TK and Paul start into the house, with Marjan and Probie ready at the hose. 

“Do what?” 

“Send him,” Carlos mutters, nodding to TK right before he disappears against the smoke. 

“TK’s good at his job.” Owen’s answer comes with practiced ease, and Carlos wants to cling to that confidence. He knows TK’s a good firefighter, but they’ve been growing closer, spending five out of seven nights a week together, and though neither’s said it out loud, they are toeing the line to boyfriend territory. He’s not pushing it, choosing instead to move with TK’s movements, play his game, ride his ride until he’s ready to take the next step. 

“We’ve got the girl, Cap.” 

He perks up when he hears Paul’s voice over the comms, and just moments later, Paul’s stepping out of the house with a young girl clinging tightly to him. He expects to see TK right behind him, but he doesn’t, and he leans forward, arms crossed, fingers digging into his arms, and then he hears a loud crash over the comms. 

“TK?” Owen’s got his comm to his mouth, and he’s tense beside Carlos, and Carlos spares a single moment to see Marjan, Judd, Probie, and Paul all sharing glances from Owen to the house, struggling to wait for their next orders. 

“TK, do you copy?” 

Carlos can’t breathe, his lungs unwilling to take in air, and then he hears harsh coughing and groaning over the comms, and his muscles tighten, going almost rigid, as he puffs out a small breath of air. 

“Yeah, floor collapsed. Think I’m in the basement.”

Owen’s face is unreadable as he processes each work punctuated by a cough. “Are you hurt?” There’s rustling on the comms, a few more groans, and then a low sigh. 

“Yeah, my foot.” There’s a pause, another, longer sigh. “And my head. I’m a little dizzy.”

“Concussion,” Michelle says, and Carlos jumps, not having heard her come up to them. “You need to get him out of there now.” 

“Already on it,” Owen says, and Carlos’ ears fade to a low ringing that mixes with a rapid heartbeat, and then his feet are moving toward the house, toward the narrow opening of the front door that’s not completely engulfed in flames. 

“Carlos, what are you doing?”

“Carlos, stop!” 

The continuous shouts fade against the roar of the fire, and he holds one arm up above his eyes and tries to only suck in small, short breaths that aren’t too deep. “TK!” Smoke begins to pour down his throat, and he coughs lightly as he approaches a hole in the floor. He looks down to see TK lying on his back. 

“TK!”

“Carlos? What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!” Carlos is the last person TK expects to see above him, back lit by dangerous orange flames, and he makes to sit up, pain grinding in his head, black dots dancing across his vision. He grits his teeth, swallows back nausea, and starts to slowly get to his feet. 

“No, TK, don’t! I’ll come to you!”

“Like hell you will,” TK grumbles under his breath, angry, worried, confused, and he tests the pressure on his feet. His right foot is fine, but his left foot twisted when he fell, and it stings the second he leans on it. He looks up to yell at Carlos again, to order him to leave, to let his team handle this, but there’s a loud explosion above them, and Carlos has to dart to the side when more of the floor caves in, burning, charred pieces of wood just narrowly missing TK. 

“Shit,” TK mutters. They’re running out of time. He can hear orders being made over the comms, but until his dad is properly geared up to come in... It could still be at least a minute, and he’s not sure they have that time. There’s an old table to the right of him, and he drags it over, stumbling, blinking past the grayness creeping at the edge of his vision, and he climbs atop it, coughing until he’s gagging. “Can you pull me up?” 

Nodding, Carlos drops to the floor. His eyes are burning just as bad as his lungs from the smoke, but TK’s so clear in his vision, so clear and alive, and he reaches down, both arms outstretched, and TK’s fingers curl around them, and he pulls, muscles trembling, fueled solely on adrenaline, and he manages to get TK up enough to where TK can grab onto the ledge, and between the two, TK’s back on the first story only seconds later, curled to his side, panting, coughing, and Carlos is urging him up to his feet. 

“Let’s go.”

TK crumples as soon as he’s upright, and Carlos catches him. “Woah, TK!” He scoops him up into his arms, turning to cough away from TK as he starts back out of the house. TK’s barely lucid in his arms as soon as he moves out of the front door to meet the 126 and the EMTs, and Michelle and Owen break past first, with Michelle gesturing for the gurney as Carlos carries him safely away from the fire. 

“Start hosing!” Owen shouts, and Paul, Judd, Marjan, and Probie hesitate, all eyes glued to TK’s almost whimpering form in Carlos’ arms, but they finally oblige, working together to tackle the fire as Carlos carefully sets TK on the gurney. 

“Are you riding with us, Captain?” 

Owen’s eyes are glued to TK, his hand gripping TK’s like a lifeline, but he shakes his head, shoulders sagging. “I can’t leave my team.” He’s reluctant to drag his gaze away, but he does, moving to Carlos’ eyes. “Go with them. I’ll meet you there.” 

Carlos fades in and out of focus, moving with Michelle when she wheels TK to the back of the ambulance, only catching snippets of med talk, about TK’s foot, his head, smoke inhalation concerns, and then he’s seated on the bench in the back of the ambulance, and another paramedic is slipping a breathing mask over his mouth and working through a small examination. 

*****

It’s hours until TK’s released on crutches and with strict instructions to not sleep for more than three hours at a time, and Carlos volunteers to drive him home after Marjan, Paul, and Probie head home for the night. Owen only agrees so he can pick up his prescription at a twenty-four hour pharmacy and get TK’s room settled for him. Carlos is a little unnerved at TK’s silence as he helps the latter into the passenger seat of his police SUV, but he doesn’t push, too unsure on how to approach TK in such a passive state.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” TK mutters, breaking the silence after endless minutes of quiet that’s sharp enough to break skin. His head is dropped against the window, too tired to hold it up, and he closes his eyes, the trees whipping by making him nauseous. 

Carlos knows what, but he feigns ignorance anyway. “Done what?” 

“Go in after me. That’s not your job.” TK coughs lightly, lungs still a little strained from smoke inhalation, and he groans when the coughing brings pain to his head. “You’re a cop, Carlos.” 

Carlos grips his steering wheel until his knuckles go white, and he pulls off onto the side of the road, flipping his hazards on and leaning his head back with a sigh. “I know I’m a cop, but you can’t tell me that wasn’t my job.” 

TK opens his eyes at this, a frown pulling at his lips, and he turns to Carlos, brows furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means that protecting you is my job, Tyler.” Carlos finally pulls a sharp gaze to meet TK’s tired eyes, and TK’s mouth opens and closes, stunned surprise pulling at his face, widening his eyes and catching his words in his throat. 

“That’s not... You could have died, Carlos!” The cogs in TK’s head begin turning, and once they start, they don’t slow despite the pain it brings. “You didn’t have any gear! My team would have--”

“--I know your team would have saved you, TK,” Carlos sighs, eyes moving from TK to the dark road ahead of them. “I don’t know what happened. As soon as I heard you were hurt, I just moved.” 

TK’s hand finds his thigh, and though Carlos doesn’t pull his eyes from the windshield, he moves his hand to cup TK’s, thumb ghosting over TK’s smooth skin. “I know what I did was stupid, but I’m not sorry I did it. I’d risk my life a thousand times over if it means saving someone I love.” 

TK’s mind short-circuits, a wire snapping out of place, a cog jerking to a stop, leading toward a possible explosion that he’s forced to breathe sharply through because they haven’t said this. They haven’t talked about this, only just barely treading into this type of territory, yet it doesn’t feel wrong, the opposite actually. 

“You love me.” It’s not a question, but Carlos nods anyway, and TK wants to chase this, but his head is beginning to throb enough to have his stomach churn, and his phone’s vibrating in his other hand, multiple messages from his father, from his team, and he leans back to face the front, head tipping against the headrest behind him. 

“We should go. My dad’s worried.” 

Carlos’ face falls, his shoulders sink, but he nods anyway and carefully maneuvers the car back onto the road, and the rest of the drive is silent, with only small coughs occasionally filling the quiet between the two. In a moment, Carlos wishes he could know what TK’s thinking, just for a second, just a glimpse behind his wall, but then he’s pulling into TK’s driveway, and Owen’s already standing in the open doorway waiting. 

“Thanks,” TK mutters, massaging his temples, yet he doesn’t reach for the door handle right away, instead twisting in his seat to lean toward Carlos, lips brushing against Carlos’ cheek. “Oh, and I think I love you, too.” 

The smile’s devilish yet shy, and Carlos’ cheeks flare hot in a blush as TK opens the door, offering a wave before he closes it and starts toward his father. Carlos watches, more-so because he can’t move, but then Owen’s waving at him before guiding TK into the house with an arm around his shoulders, and he waits a few moments, eyes glued to the closed door, TK’s words playing a beautiful melody in his head, before he finally puts his car in reverse and starts back to his apartment.

[alright-red]

The rhythm of my heart

Summary: Street racing wasn’t something that Race was particularly proud of. He didn’t like the shitty attitude that people in the scene had and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy spending time after time breaking several laws in one go.

What he did enjoy was the rush of adrenaline, the way his body almost disconnected from his brain. The way his brain assumed that he was almost flying.

_________________________________________

Hey you guys, this is a prequel to a fic I’m currently writing and I thought why not share it. This is for my street racing AU featuring Race and this lil’ thing is mainly me figuring out plot holes so.

Disclaimer: I don’t know anything about street racing and I’m pretty sure it’s shows, but bear with me. Also English isn’t my first language but I think I did okay.

Rated: T for language, I guess. There’s a lot of cursing. ~1500 words

_________________________________________

The engine roared loudly, the entire car vibrating from it’s force, being pushed into third gear with the hand brake still on.

The wheels were turning and had started smoking against the dark asphalt, making sounds that any other person would’ve deemed hurtful to their ears.

To Race though, they sounded like a melody, an old familiar song, that accompanied him on the street. He took the pedal down to the metal and looked straight ahead, where some female thing was waving around flags like she was a shitty circus performer.

Race never knew where the guys got the girls they put on the spot, but he didn’t really care either. They enjoyed the feeling of being part of something like this, so who was he to judge?

Suddenly her waving pattern changed, a pattern Race would recognize anytime anywhere. He checked his rearview mirror one last time.

Three. Two. One.

He put down the break and almost flew into the night, the lights of the city traveling by faster than shooting stars. He barely registered them, focus unwavering and locked on the road in front of him. He knew the streets by heart, knew every bump and sign, knew the way the curves tightened and loosened.

He was confident he could win this thing and he got Albert to listen to the police radio and inform him in time if a car was headed up their way. He rarely got into races with that much confidence but today just seemed to be one of those days. He shifted up to the next gear within a mere blink of an eye.

Street racing wasn’t something that Race was particularly proud of. He didn’t like the shitty attitude that people in the scene had and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy spending time after time breaking several laws in one go.

What he did enjoy was the rush of adrenaline, the way his body almost disconnected from his brain and did all the driving while he focused on the traffic and made sure to let his opponents think they could beat him, just long enough to not end up in a giant brawl in the end, because they could count his win off as luck. It was tactics that helped him survive out here.

Aside from that. there was also the fact that his brain couldn’t quite tell they were driving anymore. It straight up lost all common sense and assumed that he was flying. There was nothing Race could do that would even come close to that sense of freedom (and he had tried to find a less dangerous pasttime).

Race also loved the car that Finch had assembled for him. Well, maybe less for him than for Charlie, but he was the one who took her out for drives at night and beat her up to over 140 mph in the city.

This year Charlie had chipped him a Toyota Supra despite Race’s protesting (“only the best for the best, Race”) and Finch had modified the sleek sportscar with gadgets and technology Race didn’t even pretend to understand. What he did understand though, was that Finch wouldn’t dare to disappoint Charlie and that’s why he trusted in the car. Well that, and because he assumed that Finch wasn’t one to go out and try to get people killed.

Halfway through the course that he had agreed on with his competitor, Race realized he should’ve taken the Toyota out a bit more before racing. Every now and then his driving got weird, whenever the car handled the speed and wind differently than he expected it too and he felt like his handling was going to get him to lose grip and send him flying into the next wall.

He started checking his rearview mirror more regularly, a slight insecurity starting to settle in his stomach, but realized that he couldn’t find a trace of the other’s car behind him. That was beyond weird. Morris Delancey most definitely had not managed to overtake him, yet he shouldn’t be far back either. At least not so far, that Race couldn’t even see his lights in the mirror. Morris’ car was a damn powerhouse and with any other driver surely would’ve come out top of each race.

Race was starting to feel sick. He definitely could not lose this race. Not with high stakes.

Race was well aware that the decision to race Morris was hella risky. Most of the city’s racers went under nicknames, trying to make sure that they couldn’t be ratted out and the plice couldn’t trace them. Or for that matter, other racers.

Morris Delancey though, he didn’t need a nickname to be safe. His daddy’s money made sure of that all by itself. If the police ever got him he’d be free again sooner than sunrise. The racers around the city were cautious of him; not only did he have supplies and money to boost his ride, he also was known for not following the few rules that street racing had.

So when word got to Race that Morris Delancey wanted to race him, the one person nicknamed after his talent in street racing, Race’s initial reaction had been to decline. He was good at what he did, but that didn’t make him stupid.

But now here he was, in Charlie’s car, getting more nervous by the minute, because Morris Delancey had made him an offer he couldn’t pass up. The same Morris Delancey who apparently had cheated and took a shortcut, because there was no way in hell he was that far behind Race.

“Crutch, you read me?”, he asked while speeding up even more, having to use the handbrake to make the turn and partway drifting through the turn that got him back on track to their starting point. His vision started blurring and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. The alarm that had started blaring in his head as soon as he had realized that Morris wasn’t where he was supposed to be, didn’t really help as he tried to concentrate on getting back as fast as possible, throwing any caution to the wind and pushing the car to it’s limits.

A small crackling sound reached him through the radio, followed by Charlie’s voice. “Yeah, man. What the hell is going on out there? We lost signal on Morris’ car a few miles ago. His team ain’t any wiser.”

Shit. Race, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t stupid or slow. He knew damn well that could only mean one thing.

“Crutch, he’s taking a blackout. Haven’t seen his car for a bit and there’s no way he took the lead. He’s playin dirty. I can’t lose this one, you hear me, Crutch?”

When he got no answer, Race started to panic and for split second forgot he was supposed to be handling a monster of a machine at a speed that would kill him if he made one mistake. He heaved the car off the course into the street lamp back onto the road. His knuckles had turned white a couple minutes ago from the death grip he had on the wheel.

“Crutchie?” Nothing.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking Morris Delancey. Fucking asshole.

Another crackled sound made it to the radio. “Yo, Race, it’s Al. I had Charlie take over the radio station. Give me a sec and I will find where that ass is hiding.”

Race breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking the gods for giving him a best friend that had too much free time on his hands and tought himself how to hack pretty much any system. He knew the race couldn’t take that much longer; if he kept up his speed he’d probably be back in around 15 minutes.

“Al, how are we lookin? I need good news and preferably now.” Another turn, another neigh drift. Shifting gears, using the momentum for faster acceleration.

“I got something and… Shit.” The connection went down for a second before - “Race, he went right through that old lane that belongs to the outer parts of the red-light destrict. I don’t know how you can overtake him, man, he’s got a couple miles on you.”

A string or curses left Race’s mouth, some of them slipping right back to Italian. Merda.  Va’ a fare in culo!

“I feel ya. So what you wanna do now?”, Albert asked through the com.

What do you wanna do now? Race didn’t need to think twice. He had raced cheating assholes before, making sure they got a lesson for trying to best him under entirely unfair conditions.

“Funny you should ask, my dear Al. Because I have quite the idea.” He got off the road he was supposed to be taking and drove down a lane that would save him a good couple minutes on his way.

“I wanna take out that motherfucker and I sure as hell won’t let him beat me at my own damn game. Al, get your systems started, I want a route that will put me in front of him me, pronto! I want his sorry ass to eat dirt.”

He heard laughter on the other line, then frantic typing. A beat of static noises and then - “There you go, dude. Show him who’s the King of ‘Hattan!” A small clicking noise let him know that Albert had cut the connection for now, most likely because he knew that any kind of distraction might cost Race his win.

A mere second later the screen inside the car lit up, providing him navigation and - on top of that - let him keep track of Morris’ position.

“Alright, baby, let’s see what you got”, he murmured and took the car down the trail that would cost Morris his sweet, sweet victory.

Race only had one thought as he flew down the streets of Manhattan: I am going to win this thing!

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 2)

(chapter 2)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairing: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: language, violent deaths, fighting, angst, fluff, + possible nsfw.

A/N: please keep in mind that events/ideas from the original hunger games franchise have been purposefully altered! thanks.

previous | next

"In the event of the uprising, each of the twelve districts must offer one boy and one girl tribute to participate in the Hunger Games, and must strictly be the ages of 12 through 18. The contestants will be put into an outdoor arena where they must survive all types of danger and fight to the death, or leave it up to nature. The last tribute standing wins. It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." explained the Mayor of my district. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he uses the same speech every year. Even after my seven years of attending reapings, the anticipation for them to actually announce the names never gets easier.

I know I'm not the only one. The girls standing around me either look like they're seconds away from throwing up their last meal or simply about to explode from excitement.

"In the past seventy-three Hunger Games, we have had numerous victors representing the great district two. The victor representing district two, who will now mentor the tributes is here today." The mayor teasingly paused, "He needs no introduction, please give a warm welcome for Lee Taeyong!"

I felt my body go cold, almost as if I were seeing a ghost. There he was, my older brother, standing on the stage. He was adorned in expensive clothes from the Capitol. Standing tall, his striking features could easily be intimidating. However, his expression was relaxed and pleased; taking in the love and admiration from the crowd. Just by looking at him, anyone could tell he was made for this.

They loved him.

"Now, please welcome to the podium, the Capitol representative for our district, Kim Doyoung." The Mayor stepped off to stand beside Taeyong. In his place, stood a man with royal blue hair and an outrageously yellow suit. He smiled brightly, despite receiving piercing silence from the crowd.

  He spoke cheerfully in the microphone, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor! Due to an overwhelming amount of volunteers in the past games, your leaders have collectively decided to choose their tributes, according to who best represents the district as a whole."

He grabs a card from the pockets of his suit. Leaning into the microphone, he explains, "Here, I have the names of your male and female tributes." He pauses, carefully glancing over the text in his hands.

    "Huang Renjun and Lee Athena."

I let out the air held captive in my lungs. The heads in front of me have turned around to observe. Unable to hide amongst the crowd any longer, Taeyong was staring at me. I struggled trying to read his expression, which was blank. I felt my chest sink to the floor, heavily. Shouldn't he be excited for me?

Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug on my arm.

"You might want to start moving. Seriously, you're looking pretty stupid right now. "

I turn to my left to see Renjun frowning at me, who has stepped out of the boy's side and into the middle aisle. Coming to my senses, I follow him as the Peacekeepers escort us to the stage.

"Here we are! Our tributes from district two." Doyoung announces in between Renjun and I.

  I hear a deep, familiar voice from behind me muttering a quiet, "Smile."

   Automatically, I change my shocked expression to a brighter one. Meanwhile, I  scan the cheering crowd's faces; taking in the mixed looks of joy, pity, and even jealousy.

"Well, aren't you two going to shake hands?" inquired Doyoung, stepping backwards.

   Turning to look at Renjun, I see the look of hesitation in his face. Internally grimacing, I offer my trembling hand. He softly sighs before giving a bone-crushing handshake.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor." speaks a gleaming Doyoung to the crowd. I feel Taeyong  place his hand on my back, pushing me towards a set of doors. Once opened by the Peacekeepers, Doyoung, Taeyong, Renjun, and I enter the Justice Building. A Peacekeeper instructs me to wait in a room and closes the door behind me.

It’s relieving and oddly comforting to finally be alone. My chest no longer feels the heavy fluttering it did before. However, I can’t decide if I’m still shaking from the adrenaline or perhaps nerves. By the time the door reopens, I have gathered my thoughts. My mother and father appear in front of me. My father has a stoic and firm expression on his face, while my mother is energetically clinging to his arm.

“You have three minutes.” announces the Peacekeeper, before closing the door. My mom engulfs me in an gigantic hug. I awkwardly freeze, not really accustomed to displays of affection. However, she pays to mind to this and cheerily states, “I’m so excited for you. I know you are going to do great!”

My father grabs my shoulders and sternly councils me, “Listen to everything Taeyong tells you. Be smart and remember everything you’ve learned until this point. Don’t let your guard down, no matter how much you think you can trust someone. At the end of the day, you can only trust your own judgement.”

I nodded, my heart glowing with pride. I finally achieved the reward I’ve been working for this whole time. Getting to see the surprise in their eyes, knowing they never saw my masked potential. How did the black sheep of our family manage to pull off this?

“Time.” announces the Peacekeeper. My mom pulls me in for another hug. After she releases me, my father shockingly gives me a subtle nod before leaving with my mother.

After a short and silent car ride, accompanied by Doyoung and Renjun. We were ushered into a train, avoiding a swarm of eager reporters. At the main cart, Doyoung is sitting across from Renjun and I. The small table contains various foods and deserts intended for our pleasure.

Doyoung attempts to break the awkward silence, “We’re currently going 200 miles and you barely even feel a thing. I think that’s just one of the good things about this opport-“

“Where is Taeyong?” I interrupted, not really listening.

Doyoung let’s out a puff of air before standing up, “I think he’s in one of the other carts. I’ll go find him.” Once he leaves, Renjun harshly states, “Thank God, that man talks too much.”

I let out a hum of agreement, taking a sip from my teacup.

He starts, “I must say, you really surprised me. With your low scores, I really thought there was no way you’d be picked. Then, I told myself, the only reason is because of that brother of hers.”

I grabbed a knife from the table and shoved him down onto the couch. My legs were wrapped around his waist, hands pressing the knife into his throat. His eyes were wide, while his lips were slightly parted in shock.

“You really can’t go five seconds without talking the same old shit, huh? Didn’t even see this coming, you dumb little fuck.” I taunt him.

“You look pretty good on top of me like this.” He says, lips curling up into an evil smile. Before I could respond, I hear the sound of voices and look up. Renjun takes this opportunity to shove me off him, onto the floor. I quickly push myself up onto my hands and knees. Then, Doyoung and Taeyong came barging in through the door.

“Is everything okay? I heard some noises!” asked a frantic Doyoung.

Renjun answers innocently with, “We’re fine. She just dropped her knife on the floor.” I returned the knife to the table and went to my spot on the couch. As Taeyong and Doyoung sit down on the other side of the table, I subtly send an evil glare towards Renjun.

Taeyong glances over the two of us, “You two know almost everything there is about weapons and survival. There really is nothing I can teach you that you don’t already know. However, one of the things the two of you are going to have to focus on is making people love you. Keep in mind, you are going to be on a reality television show. People will watch and provide whatever you need, as long as you are of interest to them. If you want to get technical, the more you boost the ratings, the higher the probability is that you are to be kept around. You do this by playing a character. Rather it be a villain or a hero, it’s your choice. For example, you could be the pure and innocent type or an object of desire for the opposite sex. I hope you really take your time to decide what fits you best.”

“Taeyong, have you heard anything about the other tributes? Anything we should concern ourselves with?” I curiously asked.

He nodded his head, “District 1 has Lee Jeno and Lee Donghyuck. Both also trained since they were kids. Top of their schools in everything. Also, District 4 has Na Jaemin. Like his mentor, Finnick Odair, he specializes in spearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up playing the same womanizer-character as him as well. Be careful, any of them could really be either the greatest threat to your game or the reason you end up winning the whole thing.”

[hellohellohellobingmetropcs]

eh anddd another one

“So like .. in high school I never had a real boyfriend. Like of course there were guys I talked to or wanted me but I didn’t want them. So yeah I stayed single all four years” , you glanced from the comments running up your screen back to the mirror in front of you to apply the false lash that was held between your tweezers. “So yeah Z is my first boyfriend”

Viewers were asking how’d you and Zion meet and what led to a relationship so you decided to spill the tea while doing your makeup. Today was a chill day with nothing to do. You were gonna just walk Simba to kill time and feel the cool California breeze.

“When I met Zion I knew I was gonna like him more than I wanted to. We started off as friends then we kinda fell off because I kept friend-zoning him when I knew he liked me ..well we liked each other” your tongue fell from your mouth with a cocky chuckle.

“The fact that I had feelings for him didn’t come out until some shit happened .. I ain’t gone speak on it though” you sighed thinking back to the time you and Sammi almost fought over him in the pm house.

Sammi was never a girlfriend of his, just a close female friend with some benefits that he may or may not have caught some feelings for. He advised you not to worry about her and to focus on what you two had going. You grew tired of her subbing you on twitter for attention so you promised her when you seen her it was on sight. One Saturday morning you went over to keep Zion company and to your surprise Sammi was there too. Luckily for her Edwin held you against the refrigerator until Brandon got Zion.

“Why the fuck would you have her in the same vicinity as me? I told that bitch when I see her i was going to smack the fuck out of her! Zion I don’t play all them games! That girl constantly disrespecting me— OVER YOU”

“I forgot I invited both of you over on the same day. When you had text me I thought she left already” he held your fists to refrain you from swinging or trying to get out his view.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks with adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Bruh that’s besides the point! If I’m feeling you and we got something why is she even still around?”

And that was the last you saw of her for a while. Zion made it clear from that day that you were the one he wanted.

You read some more comments to yourself, fans were edging on with more and more spicy question you knew better not to answer.

“So I’m like bro I like you and if we got what we got going why would you—? Ya feel me?” You chuckled, putting the top to your eyelash glue back on. “I was heated. But we all cool now. The past is the past, I’m over it”

You opened the powder case, reaching for your fluffy white brush. You saturated the banana baking powder under your eyes before talking again, “Now when we walk down the street I wanna bag his face because everyone be staring. Like yes, it’s Zion Kuwonu from PrettyMuch! But he’s with me so stop looking, uglies”

“So yaaaah, thats the story on how we got together. He’s my literal dream boy. Ah it’s everything about him .. his walk , him being 6’4 , the dimples , his laugh. I could go on forever about this boy y’all better stop! Got me over here blushing and shit, my face so hot” you giggled as you applied the blush to your cheeks before blending away the banana powder.

You hummed to an unreleased Prettymuch song as you applied your lipgloss to finish off the look. Your lips rubbed against eachother making a popping noise to get a final look.

You flipped your hair over your shoulder, pushing back from your vanity table. Your eyes adverted to the shadow by the bedroom door making you shiver at the sight of Zion. “OMG you scared me! Were you standing here this whole time?”

“Enough to know you wanna bag my face” he chuckled, walking over to you at the vanity table. He pulled your body into his, pecking a few kisses on your lips as his hand traveled down your backside.

You giggled, moving his hands back up to your waist. “Baaaaeee this lipgloss was fresh” you whined, wiping your gloss from his lips.

He licked his lips, eyeing you from head to toe “You look pretty. Where you going?”

“Walk Simba”

“Why walk when you can ride?”

“Ride what?”

“This di—“

Your hand slapped over his lips knowing the filfthy words he were about to say. For his sake you cut him off, “I’m still on live” , pointing to the ongoing phone camera.

Masterlist

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & Reposted March 24, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 14 | CHAPTER 15 | Ch. 16

You guessed that you had about twenty minutes until the official start of your next game, the finals for the girls that would determine who was the number one seed going into the Spring tournament. It was exciting to be so close to your goal, a thrill that was filling you up with bubbles of excitement and good anxiety. 

You’d been playing in games all morning, your body thoroughly exhausted at this point but running on adrenaline now. The previous night you had talked with Bokuto about sticking around after your games were done to catch his, something he was very excited and proud about. But for now, you had one more game to get through - one more game and you’d be back on the national’s stage.

Abscently munching on a piece of fruit, you heard the familiar tone of your phone ringing from deep in the depths of your sports bag. You pushed around a few of the other bags in the pile to get to yours, recognizing the contact name right away and sliding the screen to unlock and answer the call. 

“Mmf-” You mumbled, swallowing your food before trying again. “Hi, Baba.”

“(y/n), dear,” The older woman answered, sounding like she was outside with the wind blowing into the speaker of her phone. “Sweetie, we’re on our way to you. Hiroto cut himself while trimming the bushes outside and needs to go get stitches. I’m going to need to drop Eiji and Yua off-”

“W-what?” You stuttered out, panicking only slightly as you started to look around for your warm-up jacket. Some of your teammates noticed your sudden frenzy and laughed as you hobbled all over the little area you had claimed as your own in the hall. “We have a game in twenty minutes-”

“Dear, I know this is terrible, but I can’t take them with me, Eiji is losing his mind. We’ll be outside the main entrance in five minutes!”

It was lucky timing that you were on a break between your games at the moment, but also terrible luck because what were you supposed to do with a ten-year-old and a three-year-old at a high school volleyball tournament?

You continued to panic as you ripped off your playing shoes and slipped into some athletic slides, zipping your tracksuit jacket all the way to your chin as you tried to politely push your way through the crowd of people. When you got out to the front entrance area, Eiji and Yua were just getting out of the car, a sympathetic look on the woman’s face as she waved to you. You looked behind her to the old man sitting in the passenger seat and he waved at you with both hands, one wrapped in an old beach towel that you could see a little bit of blood bleeding through. You cringed.

“Hey you two,” You smiled down to your siblings. Yua bounded right up to you and jumped into your arms, Eiji following behind with a backpack on his back and a slightly paled expression. Blood and injuries were not something your younger brother was known to handle well, so it really was for the best that they were not going to the hospital with the older couple. 

What am I supposed to do now?

Eiji you knew could handle himself if he were alone, being mature beyond his ten years. But you couldn’t expect him to watch Yua, especially since he loved watching volleyball more than anything in the world and his attention would be wholly devoted to you and your team. Your siblings didn’t usually make it to your games anymore, especially this year without someone to accompany them. Think… think… think…

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Oh, thank the gods you answered!” You breathed out, shouldering open the doors to the building while holding your sister on your hip and pushing your brother in front of you. “Tell me you’re here.”

“Yeah we just sat down, gonna try and watch you guys before we-”

“Great, awesome, whatever.” You interrupted in a huff, climbing a set of stairs and grunting a little from being shoved around by the crowd of people. “Sorry, that was rude. Um, are you guys in the spectator section?”

“Uh, yeah? Are you okay?”

“Just fine, we’re coming to see you.”

“We-”

You rounded the corner as you hung up on Bokuto, seeing his full team in an empty section of seats. They all matched in their gear, white tracksuits with black and gold detailing. You might’ve been intimidated had you not been on a mission to find one person in particular as the warmup clock continued to count down. 

“(y/n)!” Your eyes locked on familiar, bright gold orbs and you made an immediate line straight for the boy. 

Bokuto swore that the look of relief that came across your face was like the heavens opening up and smiling down on him. He’d never had someone look at him the way you did in that moment, and he was prepared to ride that high for the rest of his natural life. The sudden change in the air was also noticed by his teammates, their gazes turning from the girl’s teams practicing below them to your frenzied state as you charged straight for them, two young children in tow. They also noticed the sudden palpable air of excitement radiating off their captain as he stood up to greet you - good, something to motivate him today.

“Can they sit with you guys?” You asked hurriedly, setting Yua down before she squirmed out of your hold and fell on her own. She beamed at Bokuto and practically ran up to him, luckily he wasn’t holding anything or it would’ve been dropped when he caught your sister and gave her a squeeze. Eiji did his best to casually wave at Bokuto, eyeing the rest of his team respectfully before leaning over the railing to look down below at your team warming up.

“Y-yeah, of course?” He answered, confused. He moved around in his seat to help your sister get a little more comfortable as she climbed all over his shoulders. “All good?”

“Fine, just-” You waved your hand dismissively, taking in a deep breath and letting out a laugh that was just shy of being maniacal. “Another day, another problem! I seriously owe you.”

“Oh, I’ll think of something!” Bokuto beamed. As you were turning away you felt him grab onto your wrist and pull you back. You whipped around to face him, only to be brought right into his lips for a short kiss. You pulled away with wide eyes, his face a smug expression as he grinned up at you. “Good luck!”

You said goodbye to your siblings, pressing a kiss to the top of both their heads (and one to Bokuto’s making you laugh since he looked up at you childishly) and warning Yua in particular to be good for your friends, she only giggled mischievously. You turned on your heels quickly and jogged back down the steps, then running through the gym doors on the main level to get to your team and join warmups. 

As you hobbled up to them, you unzipped your track jacket and clumsily shoved your shoes on your feet. Rumi teased you playfully, tugging on the top-knot of hair piled on your head and then shoving you into position for the current drill as the seconds ticked down as she teased you endlessly.

“Babysitting for your girlfriend?” A voice leaned in towards Bokuto, a smug tone to it. He looked over and saw Konoha eye the two children with alarm, unsure if Bokuto was really the best fit for this.

“Hardly!” Bokuto laughed a little nervously, eyes shifting around to your two siblings to see if they heard someone call you his girlfriend. He hadn’t gotten to that point yet and he hated to admit it was killing him a little bit - he liked you so much. “We’re best buds! Right, Yu-chan?”

Your sister laughed as she stood on Bokuto’s lap facing him, she held out her hands and of course Bokuto knew what she wanted since they’d had a regular habit of playing together when he would be at your home. 

He stood up, grabbing Yua’s hands tightly while she stood balancing against his legs. Her tiny feet climbed up his chest and eventually she flipped herself over and landed with a light thump on the seat in front of them - Bokuto’s hands still grasping hers. They repeated this fun over and over again, Yua never growing tired and laughing the entire time. Her small laughter filled the area and made his teammates watch in shock, was Bokuto actually good with kids?

“Bokuto-san, have you seen (y/n) play?” He looked up to see your brother still completely focused on the end of the warmups below, hands gripping the railing tightly as his eyes lit up with excitement.

“We played a little at camp this summer,” Bokuto half shrugged, pulling Yua up into his arms right side up so he could properly sit back down with her. “Caught the end of a practice match once.”

Bokuto knew that Eiji loved volleyball, they’d had many good discussions about the game when Bokuto was over at your place to hang out. But the look that lit up in his eyes as he watched his older sister below was one the Bokuto recognized well - he was a fanatic.

“But you’ve never seen her play a real game?” Eiji asked, finally looking back at Bokuto and his teammates. “You’ve never seen her take it seriously?”

“I think she probably takes practice pretty seriously,” Bokuto wasn’t one-hundred percent sure your brother knew exactly what he meant.

Eiji deadpanned, “No. She doesn’t.”

“You mean to tell me the two of you got your ahh… uh butts handed to you and she wasn’t even taking it seriously?” Konoha had a hysterical look on his face, like this fact was the funniest thing in the world.

“Well, I wasn’t taking it seriously either!” Bokuto tried covering up, clearly flustered.

“Bokuto-san, you made us practice line shots for another hour.” Akaashi deadpanned from behind.

At the new voice and attention, Yua’s eyes sparked up. “Neechan is number one!” She pumped her little fists and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Technically, she’s number three.” Konoha mumbled.

“Actually, that’s not true either.” Eiji spoke up, coming to your defense almost immediately as he rustled through the backpack at his feet. The magazine he pulled out was already folded back to a particular page as he climbed on top of a chair and stretched out to hand it up towards Konoha. “Here. It came out yesterday.”

Other members of the team leaned forward to study the page the magazine was open to, an article in the familiar Volleyball Quarterly- this one was about top liberos for girls across Japan. As all their eyes scanned the words they slowly started to bulge with shocked expressions.

On the page was a dramatic outline of three columns, each topped with a stock image of a particular girl’s volleyball player they were featuring. There was the second year from Sarukawa listed third, the third year from Tsubakihara in second, and then in the top spot was a picture of a familiar face. 

“Originally they weren’t going to rank her,” Your brother commented. “Since she isn’t playing after high school and all, but obviously they had to after Interhigh.”

Smiling brightly at the camera, your hair was slightly shorter since the picture itself was from a previous year and you’d been growing yours out. You wore the black libero uniform for Shinzen proudly, hands posed on your hips and looking every part the superstar. 

Konoha turned slowly to look at Bokuto with a bit of disbelief in his eyes. Bokuto simply continued to smile and sing along to the song your sister had been making up about you being number one. “Have you seen this?” Konoha asked. “Did you know?”

“Of course I knew.” Bokuto paused his singing but didn’t look away from Yua for a moment, “She’s my girl.”

*