#because for right now he pings my need to spray him with a water like a naughty cat he is an then hold him in air jail till he calms down

[nocek]

Is it a stupid idea? Yes. Did I have to go overboard and animate it? No.

But I had to and I'm not sorry ;P

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Kara strode confidently into the DEO, giving friendly smiles to all the agents. One of them turned bright red, their heart rate going all over the place and looking like they were about to faint which was… mildly concerning. They squeaked an affirmative and ran off immediately when she asked if they were okay and suggested they went to the medbay though, so they’d probably be fine.

“Hey Kara.” Winn swung his chair towards her, eating a gummy worm.

She hopped up onto the desk beside him, grabbing a handful of sweets from the packet he was holding and ignoring his noise of protest. “Hi.”

He squinted suspiciously at her. “You’re looking awfully chipper this morning.”

Kara turned to him, gummy worm halfway to her mouth, and raised an eyebrow. “Chipper?”

He groaned and dropped his head to the desk. “I’ve been reading Agatha Christie novels and I can’t stop talking like an old English person. It’s positively awful. Please help me.”

Kara laughed and continued eating his gummy worms.

He yelped as Alex smacked him over the head on the way past.

“I don’t pay you to sleep, Winn.”

Winn huffed and rubbed the back of his head. “You’re not the one that pays me at all. And you shouldn’t hit employees - it’s an abuse of power.”

Alex rolled her eyes, opening a file and flicking through. “Quit moaning, it wasn’t even that hard. Besides I can hit you because you’re more like an annoying little brother than an employee.”

Winn shut up after that, looking halfway to happy tears, and Alex took the opportunity to round on Kara.

“Where were you last night? I tried to drop this off at your apartment but you weren’t there.” She threw a scarf at Kara’s face that hid the blush rising on her cheeks as she almost choked on her gummy worm. “You forgot it at my place. Again.”

Winn halfheartedly patted her on the back which did absolutely nothing to help.

Kara cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest to regain some of her dignity which all the DEO agents definitely thought she had. “Well it’s not my fault I don’t feel the cold.”

Alex didn’t look impressed. She went back to flicking through reports, boredom radiating off of her. “So where were you anyway?”

Kara swallowed her gummy worm, making sure it went down the right way this time. “I was patrolling.”

Alex frowned. “Really? That’s weird - I didn’t get a notification of you flying on the scanners.” She narrowed her eyes and looked around, raising her voice to an overhearable level. “Do I need to fire someone.”

Kara jumped up with an awkward chuckle and patted Alex’s forearm calmingly. “No no. I was… walking.”

Alex looked at her funny. “Why? You can fly.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to see the sights of National City from a regular person perspective. You know - the harbour, the museum, the… harbour?”

Alex frowned. “In the middle of the night?”

Kara laughed awkwardly. “I wanted to avoid the crowds?”

Alex shrugged, going back to her paperwork. “You do you I guess.”

———

She was having lunch with Lena in her office, thighs a little too close, words a little too flirty, when Alex burst in looking frazzled. Her eyes widened even further as they flicked between the two of them and Kara stood to go to her, fighting the blush threatening to rise on her cheeks.

“Alex? Is everything ok?”

Alex nodded quickly, hooking her arm through Kara’s and smiling at Lena in a way that was probably supposed to be apologetic but ended more on the side of terrifying. “Hi, sorry, I just need to borrow Kara for a moment.” She attempted to shove Kara out the door as she spoke. “Just some Supergirl business. Nothing to worry about.”

She shut the door behind them without letting Lena get a word in and turned to Kara in panic. She looked her up and down once and then started pacing.

“Oh god it’s worse than I thought.”

Kara followed her movement with her eyes like she was watching a tennis match. “What are you talking about Alex? What’s wrong?”

Alex stopped and spun towards her. “What’s wrong? Look at you! You’re so…” she gestured to Kara’s vague personage, “gay!”

To say Kara was shocked would be an understatement. “I’m sorry what?”

Alex just continued staring at her, biting her thumb nail. She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. “We found a substance at the harbour earlier that we have now identified as pink kryptonite. That’s where you said you were last night wasn’t it - the harbour.”

Kara’s eyes widened and she gulped. “I did say that, didn’t I.”

Alex started pacing again, coming up with a plan to keep Kara away from all women for the foreseeable future while she ran numerous tests. She stopped short when Lena poked her head out from her office.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes!” Alex latched on to Kara again as though preparing to restrain her in case she tried to do something gay.

Lena’s eyebrows rose slightly but she smiled politely. “Well just let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

“Nope. No we’re all good.” She attempted to direct Kara towards the elevator, frowning when Kara kept wriggling out of her grasp like an eel, as subtly as possible which was to say not subtly at all. “We should get going though.”

She stared Kara down until she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just let me get my stuff.”

She went back into Lena’s office, giving her an apologetic smile as she packed up her things, aware of Alex’s eyes watching her every movement.

She kissed Lena’s cheek on the way back out, lingering perhaps a little too long, and smiled, thumb brushing across Lena’s knuckles, at the cute blush on her cheeks when she pulled back.

Alex grabbed her arm with a slightly hysterical laugh and pulled her away down the corridor, waving at Lena with a smile that was bordering on manic. “Bye Lena. Everything is completely fine.”

———

Kara eventually managed to get Alex to release her on the condition that she wouldn’t leave her apartment. Of course this was only after lots of prodding and poking and testing while Kara tried to point out that people could be bi and pan too, although Alex didn’t seem to get the hint.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Kara saw Alex again.

Her arrival was announced by an insistent banging on Kara’s front door.

Kara stumbled out of bed, grumbling about the time as she untangled her legs from her sheets and pulled on some clothes.

She swung the door open with a sigh and Alex barged in, hand still knocking at nothing for a few moments. Alex headed straight for the kitchen island, dropping a pile of papers onto it with a thud and sliding onto one of the barstools surrounding it.

Kara rolled her eyes and shut the door, getting a glass of water and leaning against the island opposite.

“I just don’t understand!” Alex frowned down at the papers as though they had personally wronged her.

“Don’t understand what?”

“Your results came back clean!” Alex turned the stack around and spread the papers out like a bad magic trick, several fluttering off the end of the island. “Look!”

Kara nodded as she looked at them, not having a clue what any of the abbreviations on the graphs meant. “Mhm.” She sipped her water, trying to keep her expression blank. “So I didn’t come into contact with it. That’s good, right?”

“No!” She stood up and started pacing. “Because it doesn’t explain why you were acting all gay with Lena and your clothes and-” She cut herself off, pausing in her pacing, and for a moment Kara thought it had finally clicked. “The tests must be wrong.”

Kara sighed, resigning herself to watching her floorboards get worn away and drinking her water.

“There’s no other explanation. We’ll have to do them all again.” Alex’s phone pinged on the kitchen island and she momentarily stopped her spiralling to check it.

Kara pulled a box of pop tarts from her cupboard to snack on while she waited for Alex to decide on a course of action and leave her poor floorboards alone.

Alex’s brow furrowed as she looked down at her phone. “I thought you were at the harbour two nights ago?”

Kara thought she did very good job at not spraying pop tart crumbs everywhere. And she was sure her voice was within normal range and not at risk of going ultrasonic. “I was.”

Alex looked up at her and turned her phone around to show Kara the screen. “Then why have I just got an alert about an article about Lena Luthor and a certain CatCo reporter sighted having dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in National City that night?” It was very impressive how she could look so annoyed and confused at the same time.

At that moment movement caught Kara’s eye and they both looked over to see a sleepy Lena emerge from Kara’s bedroom in nothing but Kara’s bedsheet. The moment Lena saw the two of them her eyes widened and she froze. Alex’s jaw dropped so far Kara was a little worried it might have been dislocated.

They all stood there staring at each other like some kind of staring contest showdown.

“Pop tart, anyone?”

[lord-explosion-baku]

Scourge

“Who do you think they’ll believe: you or us?”

Yandere!Erasermic x reader

Warnings: yandere, mentions of sexual assault, alluding to past violence, dark themes, law & order or whatever

A/N: Nothing fun or sexy or witty really happens. I just wanted to write something about like the aftermath of a yandere kidnapping scenario. It answers the questions that so many people ask when writing yandere heroes: “who will believe you?” I’ve got a ton of ideas for continuation, ideas containing the reader being in a healthy relationship with Midnight👁, but I’m slowly getting back into writing, and it’s a little tough trying to choke shit out even when I really want to. I hope you find this a little entertaining nonetheless. Also I don’t really know anything about the judicial system in Japan. All I know is that they have three professional judges and then six lay judges who act as jury.

On July seventh, late afternoon, rain began to pour down on the courthouse, right before the second half of a horrific pair got off for charges of kidnapping, sexual assault, and an inappropriate use of quirk.

The words ‘insufficient evidence’ and ‘burden of proof’ kept ping-ponging around in your head, echoing, chipping away at what was left of your sanity. Because you couldn’t look at the lay judges, the six pairs of eyes who scrutinize you more than the defendant, you kept your eyes glued to where the water sorrowfully washed down the window panes. It was almost nice, knowing that even if the court didn’t have any sympathy for you, at least the clouds did.

They always said it would work out this way. On several occasions, they had tauntfully asked, “who do you think they’ll believe: you or us?” It had to have been a scare tactic; something to keep you static, even if you managed to escape. Well, you managed to escape, and after months of this grueling process, judgement from all ends of the spectrum, and what little influence you had in your community cut away bit-by-bit, you realized that they were right to warn you.

They called you an attention-seeking whore. A money grabber. A pot-stirrer. Not them, not the defendants—they’d never. It had been the media. You’d seen your face on every news channel, plastered on magazines. People gathered stories about you, and about your past, and they twisted and contorted your truth until you were nothing more than a monster to the public eye. A villain. A scourge to be loathed.

There were whispers in the courtroom now. People were twitching, restless and waiting. Your left ear began to ring—something that started happening after your eardrum burst after a particularly nasty debacle. Insufficient evidence my ass.

One of the judges was speaking loud enough for you to hear now, but it was the storm outside you were listening to. You were on the outside looking in, and its spray started to pelt your face in warning. It told you to bolt. Leave before you get caught in its cyclone. For a moment, you considered it, because even after a storm caused destruction, after the chaos, it would always leave something fresh to build on. That was what you needed. A new beginning.

But before you could get your legs to listen to your brain, the unforgiving winds yanked you in.

“We find the defendant not guilty.”

Steel-hard tension melted in a moment’s notice. An exuberant sob warmed the hearts of the dozens of people in the courtroom. They were sighing with relief, thanking the heavens that a cherished hero will live free to work and entertain for the rest of his days.

“You’re a good man, Hizashi Yamada,” said one of the judges who failed to condemn the actual monster. “Be sure to be more mindful of who you let into your home in the future.”

The defendant stood up, slowly, as if something heavy on his back was rolling off his suit within this ascent, and bowed to the judges, and then the lay judges. His partner, the other transgresser who walked away scot free, placed a hand on Yamada’s back, stirring him to turn. Then, the two hugged, a big move for the two of them, since their personal relationship outside of being working heroes and faculty members wasn’t very well known. To the people, it was all very touching. To you, it was devastating.

Shouta Aizawa and Hizashi Yamada were getting away with your enslavement.

Hizashi tightened his hold around Aizawa, and for a moment, his sickly green eyes scanned the room, until they found what they were looking for. Your blood froze when Hizashi saw you. You stopped breathing. You were stone.

He peered at you from above the thick rims of his glasses. Tears stained his cheeks, but a glint livened his eyes, and with a wink, he told you everything he wanted you to know: this wasn’t over.

You were wrong to think that you hadn’t yet been caught in the storm. You’d just been stuck in its eye, and unfortunately, sympathy from clouds couldn’t save you. You had to save yourself.

[loving-all-for-loki]

i really love your writing sm. could I maybe request something with Loki and reader being slow to realize that the feeling is mutual? if you dont mind <3

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, that makes me very happy to hear. I tried my best with this, I wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but I think I did a fun little twist to it. The italics are flashbacks. ALSO, you don’t need to know the song “Stuck In The Middle” to read this, but it will make this fic a little bit cuter if you do, so go stream it! It’s by Tai Verdes (actually just go listen to his whole album TV). I hope you enjoy this, nonnie.

Stuck In The Middle

Loki x reader

Word count: 2255

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing I don't remember lol

Tony decided to throw another one of his giant parties, but no one is really sure why. There’s no holiday, no accomplishment to celebrate. All you know is that the tower is filled to the brim with high named people and well rounded faces. Music is blaring as people lounge around drinking or casually dancing. The Avengers are all around, scattered among the faces.

You on the other hand are leaning against a wall drinking some pop and trying to ignore the creepy men that hit on you. Parties are fine, you don’t mind them, but you don't go around gloating about your business or accomplishments. You watch Tony walk around getting praised by millionaires and celebrities with a smirk on your face. Shaking your head, you look down and give your glass of water more attention than the people.

“You really should get out there.”

Steve stands next to you with his little suit on that makes you laugh. You’re not used to seeing him all dressed up.

“I’m not a boaster. I’ll dance here and there, but conversation isn’t my forte.”

“You're having a conversation with me, so what does that say?” He laughs.

“I don’t need your technicalities, Cap,” you laugh as well.

“You don’t even have to talk to people you don’t know. We’re all here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Steve. Go have fun.”

He smiles at you before returning to his seat at the bar by Bucky and Sam. You smile at the three of them. You do truly love your friends, even if they bother you during alone time.

“Why would you enjoy them if they bother you?”

“Loki, stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t. You’re quite loud,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your water.

“Do you not like these grand parties?” He asks.

“Eh, I don’t mind them. Just not a bragger.”

“Ah, yes. One night dedicated to gloating about your own accomplishments while putting down others.”

“No, that’s the Oscars,” you joke.

“Who is Oscar?”

“Never mind. Why you go out and dance? I bet you have some moves.”

“Not without a partner. I’m more of a partner dancer.”

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty girls around you to ask to dance.”

“Why dance with a pretty girl when I have the most beautiful one right here leaning against a wall and ignoring everyone? That’s more my style.”

“Loki, I’m flatter,” you laugh, “is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“Possibly. Thor has been bugging me to ‘get out there’ and I don’t like anyone here beside you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor. The song changes into a fun chill song you recognize as “Stuck In The Middle”. You and Loki dance together as the two of you laugh. At some point, he pulls you into him, holding him at your chest.

“Remember when we first met?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do. You were arguing with Tony and Thor.”

“I want to return to Asgard and I will no matter what you say.”

“You’re a war criminal serving time here for your attacks. If you even attempted to go back, the American army would shoot you down.”

“And good luck to them.”

“My brother is a god, Man of Iron, do not forget.”

“Shut it, point break. You can try to leave if you want to die.”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s threat. As he goes to open his mouth, he sees a girl wander into the living area and scour the kitchen. The three watch her in silent and she opens every cabinet. Loki is curious by the girl with her long black hair and sweats on, clearing not caring about the argument happening. She finally turns around with her mouth filled with pretzels from shoving them in. She looks at the two gods and Tony with a wide eyed look, clearly asking “what” in her face and shrugging.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks after swallowing.

Tony laughs and shakes his head, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fine, sweetheart. We’re just having a disagreement. Go enjoy your pretzels,” Tony chuckles.

Loki watches the way she submits to Tony and follows his lead, wondering who she is and why she listens to Tony without hesitation.

“I was so intrigued by you, this small little thing who looked so full of life. What happened to her?”

You laugh hard, “You got to know me, that’s what.”

Loki hadn’t seen the innocent girl in two weeks, wondering if she was even real. There had been some kind of glow to her so had he known better, he’d say she’s an angel.

Loki decided to coop himself up in the library while he was stuck on Midgard. Since he was stuck here, he thought he’d at least spend time doing something enjoyable. He’d spend hours in there until he had read every book and started to reread them. Then, as if the universe had heard him, the innocent girl had returned, putting a book away and getting a new one. She immediately walked out of the room and down to the tower’s elevator. Without hesitation, Loki got up and followed her at a quick pace, wanting to get in the elevator at the same time. As he walked in, they stood in silence next to each other and Loki realized he had no plan.

“I’m Loki. I don’t think we properly met.”

“Y/N.”

Loki feels his heart pound as she speaks to him with her heavenly tone. She sounds exactly like he thought she’d sound. It fits her so perfectly and he wants nothing more than to listen to her talk all day.

“I apologize for anything you heard the other day. Stark and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs, “He can strike a nerve sometimes.”

“That is an understatement,” Loki says, losing himself in his anger towards the billionaire.

You laugh at his comment which eases his anger. Loki is filled with joy knowing you find humor in his words, learning you’re not as stuck up as the other Midgardians.

“You read?”

“Yes, I love to.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

“I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s a Midgardian classic,” you say with some snark.

“I’ll have to read it. May I ask what you are doing for the rest of the day?”

The elevator opens and the two of you walk off, Loki still following you with awe.

“I’m going to spar with Steve for a little bit. You can join if you want.”

“I will not participate, but will not refuse to be of company.”

You smile at him as you walk towards the training room. Steve stands there getting ready and is surprised to see the stoic god behind you.

“Is he joining?”

“Just to watch.”

Loki sits down on the bench and leaves you to get changed and stretch. He can’t comprehend how something as sweet as you can be so willing to fight one of the super soldiers. He can’t even lie that he’s scared for you, but he’s soon proven wrong in seconds as you knock Steve down to the ground in a sweet kick. You and the super soldier go at it and you prove to be a worthy match for Steve. Loki is shocked by your swiftness and strength, clearly underestimating you.

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t expect you to be as tough as you are.” “Wow, you underestimated me. I’m hurt, Loki,” you tease.

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

“How so?”

“I think we all remember your silly holiday ‘April fools’.”

April fools is one of your favorite holidays and now that the trickster god is living with you, all of the avengers are on high alert all day. No one realized he didn’t know about the special day, so Loki wondered why everyone seemed to ignore him more than usual. He walked into the living space to see you sitting on the couch with another book.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m aware I’m not well liked, but it seems that I haven’t seen anyone all day except for you right now.”

“It’s because its’ April fools and they’re scared of you.”

A little ping of pride hits Loki.

“They’re scared of me? And what is April fools?”

“It’s a dumb holiday here where you prank people and they’re worried you’re going to pull something. After all, you are you.”

“You have a whole day dedicated to messing with people?”

“Yeah, usually it’s something simple like telling people you’re pregnant when you’re not or tying the spray nozzle on the sink together so everyone gets wet when they use it. Other people go big which is what they expected from you.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I wanted to prank them, but I think they’ve left the building entirely.”

“You say we have the tower to the two of us?” Loki can think of a couple ways he’d spend alone time with you, but the idea of messing with the Avengers with your help is too tempting. He’ll have to put his other ideas to the side for the moment. “We can still do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure, but you could think of something, I’m sure.”

“We could glue everything down so you can use anything?”

“Like stick the together?”

“Exactly, but we could use your magic so we could reverse it later.”

“I like how you think.”

About two hours later, the Avengers return from wherever they had been throughout the day and run to their rooms to avoid Loki. As soon as they noticed the two of you relaxing on the couch, they tensed up and sprinted. You pretended to not have told Loki about anything and watched them get nervous, trying to hide your amusement.

It’s only minutes later when they all run back in yelling at you about how they can’t pick anything up or open drawers. Loki looks over to you among the chaos and smiles, seeing the wide proud smile across your face.

“That was a lot of fun. You surprised me in the past though, too.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He laughs.

You had gotten hurt on a mission and found yourself with a broken arm. Every day activities became 10x harder because you have to do it with your non-dominant hand and it’s started to get annoying. You’ve been attempting to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for about 25 minutes now. Loki walked in to see you struggling with peanut butter all over your hand and a glob on the bread. There’s a giant tear in the middle of the piece you’re spreading it on and a frown on your face.

“You look like you’re struggling.”

“Thank you, captain obvious!” You exclaim in an angry tone, glaring daggers at the god.

“Do you need some help?”

“I would love some because clearly, I’m having some difficulty.”

Loki comes over and helps you finish making your sandwich. You sit down to eat but because of your bad mood, you don’t even want it now. Loki notices your distress and shakes it head, waving his hand by.

“You’re healed, now eat your sandwich.”

You look at him in confusion until you realize your arm doesn’t hurt as much when you move it. You rip off your cast and feel around to feel how your arm is completely healed.

“Thank you!”

“You can be very sweet sometimes.”

“Don’t let Stark hear that, he���ll think I have mind controlled you.”

The Avengers all sit around the bar and watch you and Loki dance. They have a big smile on their face as they see you two have fun, laughing and talking. Thor has never seen his brother look so relaxed and joyful before, it’s refreshing to see him happy. Steve and Tony don’t miss the way you look at Loki, it’s filled with more love than any friends would look at each with.

“You think there’s more there?” Thor asks.

Steve and Tony turn to look at him with confused yet amused faces. “Thor, you really are an idiot,” Tony laughs.

The song comes up to the last chorus and you and Loki have stopped talking. He swings you around and holds his body next to yours. The music get’s both of your attention.

Cause we’re stuck in the middle of lover and friends

And we’re losing every part of the benefits

You’ve hurt me more than I ever knew

But it’s shitty because I’m doing the same to you

As the lyrics set in, you remember all the things Loki has done for you. Making your PB&J, recommending books, keeping you company when the Avengers are away, dancing with you at New Years parties, giving you a hug when you return from missions, and not leaving your side when you’re hurt. Loki thinks of all the things that made you bearable. Your sense of humor, the smile on your face when you see him, the way you’ll reread books you love, the way you make fun of others with him, and how you defend him when they make fun of him.

“I think I like you,” you both say.

[emmikmil]

keep me in your heart for a while

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!reader

Word count: 6,6K

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Warnings: Mild talk of injuries, a little sad, oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (this is fantasy ok IRL wrap that shit up and be SAFE)

Summary: You help Din after a chance encounter near your home. A friends to lovers with fluff, smut, some hurt/comfort and some mild angst. Set before and during season 1 of The Mandalorian.

A/N: This is part of the sl+ discord fic exchange and I wrote this for the amazing and lovely @koskareevesismyqueen   I hope you enjoy!! Also big love to @soyelfuegoquearde for the beta read of my monster fic! Fic title is from the song Keep me in your heart by The Wailin’ Jennys <3

It takes you by surprise to hear blaster fire breaking the tranquil silence as you walk home. You had taken your bi weekly trip to the bustling city close by to stock up on supplies and it was unusual for any person, let alone people with blasters, to be nearby. Where you live is quiet and peaceful, nothing violent has happened in this small corner of the galaxy. Your house was tucked deep in the forest, nobody using this trail but you in your trips back and forth to the city. 

You step off the path slowly to lean against a nearby tree to peer over to your left. The blaster fire had ceased for a moment but it renewed again, only closer this time. You drop down quickly, your heart jumping to your throat as an odd pinging noise rattles the air, like the shots were hitting something metal and a groan echoes throughout the trees. One last shot, then silence settles in the quickly dimming forest.

You take a few moments to breathe and get your heart settled before walking on shaky legs to the path. You have to get home, you can’t dwell on whatever fight has taken place. It’s over and it was best you got home before darkfall. As you continue down the trail, your adrenaline spikes again as you hear shuffling and more groaning. You pause and swivel your head back towards the sound. You had figured with the final shots there was no one left alive. Something inside told you to go, told you someone needed help. You pace for a moment longer, mind clicking into overdrive wondering what you were going to do. With a sigh, you walk off the path again, telling yourself you would just look and see. You doubt you can fix a blaster wound, but maybe your limited knowledge could help.

You make your steps as quiet as possible as you crept to the outskirts of the scene. Before you was a man, with his hands bound in front of him and several more men lay around him. None of them were moving and you assume it wasn’t them making those noises. Rustling to your left makes your gaze snap to another man, a very large armored man.

 A Mandalorian. 

You try in earnest to contain your gasp at the sight. Your eyes grow wide and you unknowingly take a few steps forward. You had grown up on stories about the Mandalorians. Their honor and creed at the forefront of every story about the armoured warriors. They had always fascinated you as a child and now one was right in front of you. He was trying to sit up now, struggling with his leg and holding a hand to his side. Before you could take another step his other hand snapped out, leveling his blaster point blank at you without even looking up.

“No, wait sir please, don’t shoot! I heard blasters and thought someone might be hurt, I just wanted to help!” You hold up your hands for good measure and back away a few steps. He finally looks at you, studying you carefully before slowly lowering his blaster. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Can I- Will you let me help you stand up at least?” you ask, still eyeing his blaster wearily.

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” His reply startles you for some reason. You thought perhaps it was the fact that a Mandalorian was speaking to you in the first place, but really it was that despite the modulator in his helmet making his voice sound tinny, it still sounded so warm. Deep, warm and husky were the best descriptions, the only thoughts flying through your brain as you stare at the sprawled out figure below you. With a small shake to your head, you drop your heavy bag and walk forward to offer up your hand. 

“You’re either very brave or not very bright for doing this-” His own words cut off with a grunt as he stands, leaning more on his right leg. He stumbles a bit before your arms reach out, grasping his forearms to steady him.

“It’s closing in on sundown, it’ll be cold. I didn’t want to leave a helpless person out in the forest alone.” You couldn’t help but huff, annoyed at his words, more so that he was somewhat right in his criticism.

“A helpless person with a blaster?”

“Hey, I only came closer because you’re a Mandalorian! Your people are honorable and you wouldn’t hurt an innocent person...right?” You hate the hesitancy in your voice, how it shakes a little in the pause before you finish your sentence. You had assumed, once he assessed you were not a threat, that the man in armor wouldn’t cause you any harm. Before you can doubt yourself or start to run, he lays a hand down gently on your shoulder.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice, while still laced in pain, was soft and comforting, soothing any panic starting to swell in you. “If you could just help me to my ship, I can patch up before heading out.” You nod and gently take his arm to place it around your shoulders, slowly starting to lead him towards the path.

“Oh, what about the uh…” you point behind you to the bounty still on the forest floor before leaning down, heaving your bag to settle on your back before adjusting the Mandalorians arm back around your shoulders.

“Leave it, I’ll come back for them in the morning.” With that, you both start towards his ship in silence, which was parked not too far away from your own home. You had heard something late the night before, chalking it up to a dream and not paying much attention to it. That had to have been when he landed. You pause again for him to catch his breath, his movements getting more lethargic, his ankle dragging worse and worse.

“How much farther is your ship again Mandalorian?” you ask while steadying his form. It was nearly black out now, the only light visible was the stars above and the small twinkle of light coming from the small lamp in your window.

“It’s just there,” he points towards the right ”just past that treeline, down the hill. Another twenty minute walk.” you bark out a laugh and pivot him back to the left.

“No way, neither of us can last that long, especially in the dark. My house is right here, I can patch you up and you can stay with me for the night. No arguing” The last bit spoken quickly when you hear him take a breath to respond. 

You already knew he was quiet and independent, and somewhat stubborn, but you were not helping this man limp another twenty minutes. You guide him up the small path to your door, leaving his side to open it and gesture him to come inside, He limps in and stands in the middle of the room, watching as you bounce around the room, putting your supplies down on the table and rummaging in a drawer in the kitchen for your small medkit. You turn back and bite your lip in thought, glancing between the large Mandalorian and the now comically sized couch and armchair behind him.

“Go through that door, my bed will be easier for me to patch you up on.” You turn, setting water to boil for some tea before following him back to your room. “You have to take off some of that armor for me to take a look…” you flush slightly as he sits rigidly on the side of your bed. You turn away fiddling with the medkit, opening it, taking out some gauze and bacta spray as the sound of armor piling up on your floor echoes around the quiet house. You turn back around as he clears his throat.

The armor covering his leg, stomach, and chest were gone leaving only his worn pants and shirt underneath. The armor piled up in the corner along with both of his boots. You gulp, shaking your head as you bend to examine his ankle. Not broken to his luck, just twisted and swollen. The graze on his side from the blaster fire didn’t look too bad either. To fill the silence as you work you half-heartedly ask the story about this bounty. To your surprise, the Mandalorian, or Mando at his request, told the story of the bounty. How it had only become trouble when several of his crooked buddies came to “rescue” their friend, but ended in all of them dying in the quick battle. You both finish around the same time and he murmurs a quiet thanks as you clean up. You gently touch his shoulder as he goes to sit up.

“Hey now Mando, keep off that ankle. You may hurt it worse moving it more tonight. You’re more than welcome to stay here tonight. I’m making tea now and I’ll bring you some food.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble” he begins to argue, just like you knew he would, and that thought makes you smile.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to have company and...it’s cool to meet a Mandalorian. I grew up on stories about you, so-” you shrug at that, shuffling your feet before moving to the door ”besides, the bacta needs to work on that ankle. Should be fine by morning.” you threw over your shoulder before scurrying to the now boiling water. You could have sworn you heard a soft laugh but push that thought away, instead focusing on a small plate of food and tea for Mando.

-------

He sits in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, leaning his head back for a moment to watch the morning light break through the horizon. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, too on edge to rest his body how he needed to. The adrenaline of the day before from the ambush hadn’t faded as it normal did. Being hurt, feeling almost helpless as he heard a figure walk toward him. He is glad now he didn’t shoot first like he normally did. He won’t admit to being startled by this woman in the middle of forest, walking right onto a grizzly scene wanting to do nothing but help the person who was injured. It left his guard up, and he nearly rejected her, but that tree root twisted his ankle something fierce, and he was not looking forward to crawling back to his ship in the dark. 

Din knew he wasn’t the most gracious guest with his stubbornness and attitude but she didn’t even bat an eye. He hopes the credits he left on her table  would be enough to pay for the supplies she wasted on him. As he takes off, heading to take the now frozen body back to Nevarro, he finally allows his body to relax in his comfort space. He had seen very little kindness in his adult life, specifically kindness where some kind of reward wasn’t expected in return. Try as he might to ignore his exchange with the woman, images and conversation from the night before dance around in his head. He wonders when, if ever, they will fade.

-------

You admit you had been just a little disappointed that he had left so early, and he had been so incredibly silent. You had startled awake from the nest you’d made in your cozy chair well into the late morning. You had walked to your table to see his dishes from the night before, his empty tea cup and his plate that you had put bread and cheese on. You couldn’t help but laugh at the crusts, now incredibly stale, still left on the plate. The big, strong, and snarky Mandalorian didn’t like the bread crusts. Your laugh died  on your tongue as the light hit the large pile of credits stacked just behind the dishes. You shifted everything around, hoping he had left a note or explanation for the credits, but there was none to be found. 

Your mind drifts to him often in the next several weeks. Every time you use the credits you thought of him. You spent them to restock your med kit, and even treat yourself to some books you had been eyeing for too long now. Sometimes at night, curled in your chair by the fire with your new books your mind would wander. Mostly you wonder if he thought about you, if his own mind drifts to the quiet night you two had shared. It hadn’t been much. After patching him up you brought him some food and tea, slinking away with heat flooding your face when you realized he couldn’t take off his helmet in front of you. You two talked a bit later that night, when you came to check his ankle before bed. He had been quiet and watchful of every move you made. He did answer the few questions about his creed that you just couldn’t help but ask. You wish now that you had asked more, wanting to hear his voice more, but all you could do was commit the moments to memory, a tale to tell your future children of how you saved a real Mandalorian. 

Perhaps that is why you were so gobsmacked when said Mandalorian walked up to you several weeks later as you tend to the garden. His shadow engulfing your frame as you crouch, urging the crooked plant to stand upright.

“Are you...here for a bounty or something? I-shit i’m sorry that was rude.” You can’t help but smile as his shoulders shook under the armor as you fidget with your gloves.

“Had to stop and get supplies. Figured I would come see if you’ve saved any other strangers in the forest.” you scoff at his teasing tone, standing up to brush the dirt off your legs.

“I did actually, they even ate the crusts on their bread, unlike the last guy.” Your glare and cocky smirk  melt away to a large smile as the Mandalorian barks out a real genuine laugh. “Come on now Mando, I’ll put on some tea.” 

This interaction happens time and time again, he would stop by every month or so on his way to turn in bounties. After a few visits he brought you different teas he would find in markets around the galaxy, or even a book he thought you would like. The air between you two was easy, and you could tell he was more and more comfortable, having no problem lounging by the fire listening to your rattle on about the book you were reading or what your friends had been up to in the city. He never stayed overnight at your house again, but he would stay late sometimes and those were your favorite times. 

You two would sit close and talk more seriously, leaving your usual joking and playful banter to die out with the sunlight. He told you of his parents, his childhood, his early days when he was reckless and wild. In turn you shared your secrets, troubles and your dreams. Mando may not be the most talkative during some visits but he was always so attentive, soaking up every word you said. It was one of those moments where he first called you cyare instead of your name. As you looked at him confused, he confessed, quite nervously in fact, that it meant friend in mando’a and your heart swelled. You knew he was alone a lot of the time and it sent warmth  to flood your body knowing that he considered you a friend, a real friend. 

Before you knew it, it had been over a year since you two had first met. You never quite knew when he would arrive, but he did each time, gift in hand asking if you had picked up any more wayward strangers and each time you would accept his present and roll your eyes as he laughs. You believe it was in these moments, in the playful jabs, the afternoons spent talking, that you felt the joy of friendship blossom into a yearning unlike anything you've ever felt. It made you happy to be his friend, even if it stings with the wish to be more than that. So you took each visit and savored the moments,

This latest visit was on the shorter side, with him being behind from hunting someone down and he needed to turn them in ASAP. Yet  he still stopped in to see you, handing you more of your newfound favorite tea. Time went by fast as you talk and catch up and soon enough he stands, heading for your door before turning to look at you.

"Be safe cyare, don't bring home any strangers." You roll your eyes playfully like always

"You too big guy, watch out for those tree roots on your way out!" Your giggle echoes behind you as he dramatically flings your door open and strolls out to his ship. You follow and wave from your doorway as he leaves, only going inside as you see him fly away. Your heart aches but your usual goodbyes always soften the blow of his absence, the nicknames and inside jokes bringing a smile to your face,

You just wished that you savored that last visit more, wished it had been longer. That last goodbye echoed in your mind as the next month comes and goes with no sign of Mando. Then two months, then three pass with nothing. His voice bounced in your mind, echoing in the silent nights. You knew how dangerous his job was, had seen a small portion of it first hand, but you never questioned the possibility of him just being...gone. 

You had no way of communicating with him, knew of nobody else he knew. Asking around the town was hopeless, and with every month that passed, the more your heart cracked open.  By the sixth month you just stopped hoping, stopped imagining him walking through your doorway. You continued with life, work, friends, and shopping. Before you always enjoyed taking walks through the forest, but now it left such an ache in your chest, passing the spot near your home where you first met him. Going back and forth to the city was now a dreaded task that you put off as long as possible.

This is where you find yourself now, hurrying past that area with your head down, swallowing down all your emotions. Your only focus right now was to get in the house, put your items away and lose yourself in a book to unwind. You repeat this like a mantra in your mind, focusing so heavily on it that hearing your name almost makes you stumble backwards. Your head snaps up, eyes widening as you take in the sight of Mando walking towards you. The moment feels like it’s in slow motion, feeling so dreamlike and it's not until he touches your face with his gloved hand that the spell breaks. With a gasping sob you throw yourself into his body, holding him for dear life and whimpering out his name as you try to catch your breath.

"Oh cyare, I'm so sorry. I came as soon as I could."  He held you right to his chest as he soothes your hair back. He kept murmuring apologies softly in your ear as your cries finally dwelled and you two stand like this, clinging to each other in relief, only breaking away when a soft coo sounds from somewhere behind Mando. You sniffle and peek behind his body, seeing an orb floating midair with a small bundle inside. You look between the orb and Mando before stepping around him and walking forward. Sitting up inside the orb was the cutest little green baby staring up at you.

“Well hi there little one.” you say as you bend down to be at eye level with the baby. He stares at you with his large dark eyes before making another cooing sound and holding his tiny arms out to you. You glance back at Mando who nods, and you carefully nestle the baby in the crook of your arm, being careful of the obnoxiously big ears that now wiggle as he smiles up at you. The baby’s smile widens and he makes an almost purring sound as Mando walks up, placing one hand on your lower back and the other to pat the baby’s head with gentle affection. You smile as you look up at Mando. “Seems like you’re the one picking up strangers now, huh?” The low laugh Mando makes sets your heart leaping from your chest. You must be making a face because he slowly starts to rub circles into your back.

“It’s a long story, but the kid and I can stay awhile If...that’s alright with you?” He seems nervous and hesitant asking this, but on instinct you grab his hand and pull him towards your front door,

“I’ve got all the time in the world Mando. I’ll make tea and food while you talk.”

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening Mando tells you everything that happened with this small bounty, his change of heart, the harrowing close encounters and the overall life on the run these two had endured. While it hurt knowing how hard Mando pushed and fought to keep them safe, it made you happy that he wasn’t alone. It was easy to see how close they had grown, how much of a protective father he has become over this magically inclined green baby. 

The baby quickly attaches to you, eating up every ounce of food you offer him, and you give Mando a knowing look as the baby eats every piece of bread, even the crust. As darkness falls, the baby is put to bed, easily going down from his busy afternoon and silence takes over. Mando fidgets, seeming uncomfortable much like his first visit here and it sets you on edge.

After a while he finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry again, you know it wasn’t safe to come here before. I couldn’t bring any danger to you. I know you were lonely-”

“Wait, wait. Lonely? You think I was upset because I had been lonely?” Your harsh tone cutting him off made Mando pause and shake his head.

“That’s not what i meant cyare-” You stand up abruptly, shaking your head at him, cutting off his words again

“I thought you were dead. This entire time Mando. I thought all I would ever have are the memories of our stories, our jokes, that your laugh would haunt my dreams. Don’t get me started on that damn nickname you call me,” you stop yourself before you wake the baby and try to compose yourself. Your hand goes to your heart, almost shielding it before you force yourself to take a breath and look Mando straight on. “This wasn’t a friend leaving with no contact for months. It meant so much more- you mean so much more.” 

Your confession hangs there between the two of you, making the air so thick in its resounding silence that you turn away, but a gentle hold on your wrist stops you from moving away. At his whisper of your name you turn, seeing him stand up slowly.

“Cyare means beloved.”

Those three words knock every ounce of air out of you and you blink away tears as you stare at him in wonder. “Mando does that...mean that you-”

“Yes, for a long time now.” He steps forward and bends his head, bringing your foreheads to touch. You then take hold of either side of his helmet, bringing him down even more so that you press your lips to his forehead. After he lets out a shaky exhale he asks quietly “Do you trust me?”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, you answer “Yes, absolutely I trust you.”

He gently takes your hand and  leads you back to your bedroom. He pushes the door open and closes it as you walk in. You hope he can't hear how loud you swallow as he closes the curtains, blocking out the moonlight and plunging the room in complete darkness.

The next moments would be engraved into your mind for the rest of your days. A gentle hiss filled the room before you felt hot air near your face. “Can I kiss you cyare?” His lips are so close to yours and you shiver as your mind struggles to catch up. With a hitch in your breath you realize…

His helmet. He took off his helmet.

With that realization you surge forward, pressing your lips to his and throwing your hands up and forward to bury themselves in his hair. Mando lets out a small gasp at the contact, the true first bit of touch he’s felt on his face, and you take the opportunity to gently slide your tongue inside his mouth; Deepening the kiss makes both of your brains go fuzzy and it's a sloppy and beautiful tangle of lips and tongues. You have no idea how long you two stand there and kiss, learning and exploring each other’s mouths, but you wish with every bit of your heart that this moment, this feeling, everything that you’re experiencing with him will never end.

However it does have to end, and you break apart to catch your breath, noses touching as you both pant. Mando takes no time however, and presses wet kisses all over your face, seeming to not want to keep his lips off of you. You giggle at his affection, pulling him closer to slow his movements, fumbling in the dark to find his lips as you kiss him sweetly before pulling away once more. “Let's catch our breath a bit, Mando.” He’s so close to you, you can feel his lips turn up into a small smile. 

"Sorry, got carried away there. I've never…" At his pause you want to smack yourself, remembering just how important this was. To take his helmet off to kiss you, even in the dark? You wonder exactly how inexperienced he is but his voice returns once more. "I don't regret it, this was-this was worth waiting for."

One of your hands leaves his hair and you cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your palm. "Oh Mando, I-"

"Din. My name's Din. You can use it if...you'd like to." 

You felt his jaw shake under your palm, could damn near taste his nervousness and that just wouldn't do. You whisper his name against his lips before diving back into his kisses. At this his resolve seems to snap and his hands tentatively start to wander from their place on your waist, one tracing up and down your spine while the other grips your hip.

You slowly start to walk him backward towards your bed, but Din surprises you as he flips you two around and falls back, sending you both tumbling onto the bed. The movement was so quick and unexpected you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as you cuddle up to him and continue to press kisses on his lips, the tip of his nose, and back to nip at his jaw. That contentment you both had just standing and kissing in your room fades as his body settles next to yours. You lay on your sides facing each other, sharing kisses wherever you could reach. 

Before things could go further, you had a burning question to ask. "Din we can just do this. I don't want to pressure you into more, especially if this is your first time and-"

His laugh was somehow even more enchanting outside of the helmet and butterflies erupt in your chest before bursting into flames as he speaks. "I meant I had never kissed before, I have done...other things before, just with the helmet on."

You can't help but nuzzle his nose with affection before whispering "I want this if you do Din." The moment his pleas left his mouth you threw your leg over his hip and try to grind down on him as you pull him into a searing kiss.

He sighs into the kiss before he pulls away and starts tearing away his armor and clothes. At least that is what you assume he's doing by the dull thuds and clanks and muttered curses. You take the hint too, quickly peeling off your clothes. As you finish you feel his bare hand reach for you and he pulls you back into him, throwing your leg over his now bare hip and putting his lips back onto yours.

This lit a fire in you, unlike anything you’ve known. You wanted him now, needed all of him or else flames would consume every part of you. It took you a moment to realize the high-pitched whine you heard didn’t come from Din. He was currently whispering your name with his hand gripping your hip, stilling your hips.

“I just need, please I just-let me kiss you. I want to taste you, please.” he whispers against your lips and the desperate sound of his voice breaks through the kiss driven lust inside your brain. You remember with a jolt that he’s never kissed anyone, never tasted anyone before,and you take in a shaky breath before rolling onto your back. You couldn’t name what exactly that swell of emotions was inside you as he began to place kisses over your face and down your neck. Knowing that you are the first person he’s ever wanted or trusted to kiss brings a flood of warmth to your chest. That warmth however quickly rushed down to your abdomen as Din licks the hollow of your throat and presses a small kiss there. He takes his time as he kisses down over your heart and further to your breasts

He spends longer there than you expect, very clearly enjoying the feel of them in his hands as he massages and kisses every inch of them. He’s sucked more bruises on your breast than anything but you have no heart to complain. He only stops when you finally beg him to move, and he mutters a quick apology as he kisses and licks to your stomach. His hands move to your knees and prys your thighs apart. As he settles lower to place kisses along your inner thigh he stops. You realize with a rush of heat to your face, just how wet your thighs had become. You had been rubbing them together trying to find any relief as he devoured every inch of your breasts and you didn’t realize just how wet it made you. You suck in a breath as you feel Din’s fingers lightly trace over your slit and he groans as realization also settles in for him.

“We’ve barely...I haven’t even touched you here and you’re already this wet for me?” you can’t help but let out a breathless laugh at his voice, which sounds like he is in complete awe of you. Before you can reply his head dips down, licking your arousal from your thighs. He takes great care in licking both thighs clean and you nearly cry in relief when he licks from your entrance to your clit in one slow movement. You can feel his hands shake as he holds your thighs apart and slowly works you over with his tongue. 

You know Din has never done this before, so you let him explore you like this, enjoying the sensations of his mouth all over your pussy. His unsure kisses around your lips, the long licks up your slit gave way to him being more confident with your hums and gasps of approval urging him forward. While it feels amazing, you need more, so you take his hair in your hand and with a slight tug, you get his attention.

“Up here, right here at my clit just-” you let out a choked out gasp as he licks right where you need it. “There Din, just suck there and- and put your fingers inside me, just one to start.” Din was all too eager to please you and gently sucks on your clit while he pushes one of his thick fingers inside you. You kept one hand twisted around his hair and the other to cover your mouth from the very loud moans now tumbling out. With a particularly harsh suckle, you gripped his hair even more, pushing him forward as your hips lift to grind down onto his face. The vibrations from Din groaning into your heat only magnifies the feeling and you melt, doing nothing but writhe and muffling your gasps and moans. As you feel a second finger breach you to join the first, his other hand curling around your wrist near your mouth. You close your lips to try and keep quiet as Din gently pulls your hand down to the mattress and intertwines your fingers together.

“I want to hear you, please, I want to listen to you fall apart.” His lips barely leave you, his warm breath coming out in pants over your sensitive clit, the puffs of air sending goosebumps down your whole body. With that, he returned to licking, sucking, and even biting a little, and soon enough, you did exactly as he asked. You didn’t hold back the sounds and moans spewing from your mouth and you damn near scream his name as a third finger entered you just as your orgasm hit. His fingers never let up their steady rhythm, only slowing when your body releases from its rigid state and you melt into the blankets beneath you. You twitch and sigh as you feel his fingers leave you and his tongue replaces them, gently licking you, drinking up every bit of your release.

As your breathing slows back to normal, you feel Din shift between your thighs, and you hear him grunt as a slick sound fills the room. The heat that melted from your body with your orgasm came back tenfold when you realize those slick sounds were Din stroking his cock. Stroking himself with the hand that was just moments ago finger fucking you, making his cock slick and preparing to enter you.  Your every thought was lost in a lusty haze that you didn’t realize you began to murmur the word please over and over again, Din leans over you, pressing his lips to yours softly to quiet you down.

“Are you ok? You want to keep going?” His questions were so sincere, it was made funnier when you realize the fingers cupping your cheek were the same that were buried inside you and stroking his cock only moments before. Grinning, you push forward, kissing the edge of his mouth softly before wrapping your legs around his waist to guide him to fit perfectly between your open thighs.

“Yes, I’m good, please let’s keep going.” With that Din seals his lips to yours and shifts, slowly pressing inside you. You only broke the kiss when Din finally bottomed out, parting to both groan as your walls clenched around him. His thick cock stretches you just enough to almost be painful before it fades out into pure bliss as he grinds into you. You cling to his back as he starts to move. He keeps his thrusts shallow and deep, keeping himself buried in you as much as possible. All you can do is hold on for dear life as he steadily fucks you deeper into the mattress. His lips never leave your skin, mostly he keeps them on your lips to swallow down every gasp you let out. From this angle, his pubic hair was giving just the smallest bit of friction to your clit and while it feels good, you need a new angle. With every bit of force you can muster you clamp your thighs around him and roll the both of you over so you loom over him.

“Was that not good? Was I-" you cut off the questions  with a mess of a kiss, and even if he can't see you, you gave him the biggest grin.

"Wanted to try something new. I can't let you always be in control Din, you have to learn to share." And with that you grind down and circle your hips, grinning even more at the gasp and slew of curses that escaped his lips. You set a faster past than before,  the fire building inside was growing stronger with each second. Next time you tell yourself, next time you two will take it slow. Right now all that matters is the burning in your belly, the chills crawling up your spine, and Din moaning your name into the dark room.

It seems it is Din’s turn, his patience snapping, he moves his iron grip on your hips to your ass, gripping them as he slams you down onto him as he thrusts up. This sucks every bit of air from your lungs and you fall forward, bracing yourself on his chest as he picks up the pace. Just as your breath returns to you and you moan, the air whooshes back out of your lungs as Din spits out through clenched teeth. “That’s my good girl, I knew you could take my cock so well. So. Fucking. Well.” Each of his last words were punctuated by bone rattling thrusts and you scream into his chest before sitting up, prying one of Din’s hands off your ass, bringing it to your clit. He takes the hint and swirls tight and fast circles around you and it is just what you need. With a broken cry you fall apart, collapsing back onto his chest and groaning into his shoulder. Din holds you close and meets his end after a few more thrusts, clutching your back and burying his face into your hair. You two lie there tangled together until you can catch your breaths. Eventually you lean up and you giggle as you try and fail to find his lips. He chuckles too as your lips find his cheek and chin before finally pressing against his lips. You kiss lazily like this, basking in the afterglow; tongues tangling, your hands twisted in his hair, and his nails slowly tracing lines up and down your back.

Din is the first to pull away, rolling you both over to the side before he starts to pull away.

“No, stay” you mumble groggily, the emotions and actions of the day weighing heavily on your now sated body.

“I’ll be back, we need to clean up.” he huffs as you whine and paw at his body, but Din easily gives in, letting you win this battle. He gladly lets you position him back down, lying flat on the bed as you cuddle into his chest.

“Clean later, just hold me for a bit.” He kisses your forehead and you hum in contentment. As your body falls deeper into relaxing, sleep slowly taking over, you hear him speak quietly, lips till pressed to your head.

“Good night cyar'ika.” 

This rouses you from your sleepy state enough to ask, “that one doesn’t mean friend, right?” You smile as you feel his body shake beneath you as he laughs.

“No, it doesn’t mean friend. Good night Darling.” 

You both fall asleep with smiles on your faces and hearts fuller than either of you even knew possible.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Relief

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x female reader (cishet, no y/n, no kids, reader is on her period)

Warnings: Mutual hand jobs during period, blood is mentioned but not featured. Cramps described.

Summary: Frankie knows how to deal with cramps. Frankie's got you.

You exhale a sigh of relief when you step underneath the hot spray of water. Shuddering at the sudden heat of the shower, you tense up for a second before relaxing and turning your face up towards the stream. As you get used to the temperature, you turn up the heat a little more and carefully rub your lower back and stomach to spread out the warmth over the bloated, aching parts. You got your period this morning and have spent the day with a nagging ache radiating from your stupid fucking uterus. Towards the evening, the cramps worsened and you didn't eat much during dinner. Frankie had suggested you take a shower and an early night, let him worry about cleaning up, but you were loath to just let everything go because of something you've experienced once a month for over half your life. Besides, this wasn't even the worst your body could throw at you: you were still functioning. Uncomfortable, yes, but not bedridden and vomiting. After a few chores, however, you figured you had done enough for the day, and decided to take Frankie's advice.

The hot water relaxes you and for a long while, you just stand underneath the stream, eyes closed and one palm resting on your lower abdomen, relieved that the shower is taking the edge of the pain, but you're still feeling swollen and sore. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for the shampoo just as the door opens and Frankie comes in. He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxer briefs, and proceeds to shed these quickly before getting into the shower booth with you.

”How’s you, gorgeous?” he murmurs into your ear, slipping his arms around you from behind.

A little flutter in the pit of your stomach brings forth a smile on your lips, and you put the shampoo bottle away.

”Surviving.”

”I know you’re in pain but fuck, I love it when your tits and ass swell up like this.”

He moves his large hands to your ass cheeks and squeezes, before trailing his fingers lightly up your sides and to your front, covering your breasts. He’s a lot more careful with them than with your ass; experience has taught him that if he’s too rough when they’re tender, he’ll get punched in the face. (For real: you were once taken by surprise by his well-meaning but slightly too rough grip, the sudden pain making you startle in a perfect backwards headbutt. He got a nose bleed and you felt awful, but he felt worse, not from pain but for having hurt you.)

”It’s not as bad as it was two days ago. I wouldn’t even have let you touch them,” you let him know, the flutter in your stomach intensifying when Frankie brushes his fingers over your stiff nipples.

”I know, and it’s torture. They were bigger two days ago. But I just have to make do...”

He trails kisses down your shoulder, one hand staying on your breast and the other wandering down between your legs, finding your clit. You exhale in a soft sigh.

”I’m bleeding a lot," you warn him with a low moan. ”And I’m sore, Frankie, I... I don’t want you in me.” You feel awful for telling him this because you usually always want him in you, but right now, you would just be uncomfortable. It's not the blood, it's the overall uneasiness.

”Don’t worry baby, I know what you need,” he whispers in a low growl, his breath hot on your ear. You feel him grow hard against your butt, so your lean back, pressing yourself against his dick, just as he starts to rub your clit gently with two fingers. Sparks run up and down your body as you let out another sigh before turning your head so you can reach his mouth. You find it, but also get hit full on in the face by the shower, so you giggle and wipe at your eyes. Frankie chuckles as he redirects both you and the shower head before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like only he can, lightly but with commitment. You've never been with anyone who could kiss like Francisco Morales. Then again, you've never loved anyone as much as you love him, never wanted anyone like you want him. Never been safe enough with anyone to want them so much, so bad, so fully.

He pinches your nipple a little too hard, and you bite his lip in return. You both grunt and fall back.

”Sorry,” he smiles. You smile back.

”No you’re not...”

You reach behind yourself, find his dick, and start to stroke it. Frankie leans his forehead to the back of your head, breathing audibly, his hand working faster between your legs. You moan and find the wall with your free hand to support yourself. The dull ache of your cramps is now shadowed by the escalating pull in your groin and despite the hot water, your skin prickles over for a moment, your arousal manifesting in goosebumps that quickly disappear in the stream of hot water.

Frankie's breathing is shallow against your ear, echoing your own, both of you breathing more audibly, exhales turning into small, short moans as you take each other closer to the edge. You're finding it difficult to work Frankie's hard dick with your hand awkwardly reaching behind yourself, but he doesn’t seem to have any complaints. You think dimly that if this doesn’t work out, you can suck him off once you're undone. He’d like that. Or...

”Wanna cum on my ass, baby?” you invite him in a breathless whisper. ”Wanna cum on my round, soft ass?”

”Fuck,” Frankie groans, flipping a couple of wet, heavy strands of hair out of the way before kissing your neck and sucking into the skin. You hiss and do your best to jerk him off faster, but your hand is no longer functioning optimally as you're closing in on your orgasm. You don't want to grab him too hard, so you let go of him and braze yourself with both hands against the tile wall. Panting, you bite down on your lower lip and hold your breath –

– and release a low keen, a tiny shudder traveling through your body as the orgasm relaxes and tenses you up, simultaneously, wonderfully. Frankie doesn't give your clit a rest when he grabs his cock, taking over where you left off.

”Cum on my ass, baby,” you beckon him, breathless and still riding the waves of your orgasm, ”that’s it, cum on my ass...” You tense up again, your fingers clawing helplessly on the walls without finding a grip, and your legs shake as you mewl your way through another release.

Despite the flowing water from the shower, you feel the hot spurts of cum on your ass cheeks. Frankie curses in a strangled voice and releases your burning bundle of nerves, slapping both hands to your hips and pulling you to him, pressing a gasping, open-mouth kiss to your shoulder. You feel him tremble about as much as you yourself are and very carefully, you take your hands off the wall and put them over his. You lean back and feel his chest heave against your back. He murmurs in appreciation at the contact.

”Damn, baby.”

”Uh-huh.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, gazing into those wonderful brown eyes of his.

”You’re so good to me,” you say sincerely. Frankie smiles softly, sliding his hands down to your ass.

”It’s because your ass is awesome,” he grins before dipping down to kiss you. ”And because I love you.”

He helps wash your hair, something he's done plenty of times before but still makes you purr with pleasure. You return the favor and it gives you the same kind of gratification to see how much he appreciates it as well.

After the shower, when you're dry, warm, and dressed in pj's, you go to the kitchen to put your rice heat pack in the microwave. Your cramps have subsided considerably, but you still want to keep your belly warm.

"You hungry?" Frankie asks, rummaging through the fridge. "You hardly ate anything."

"I'll have a cup of tea. Eating makes me so gassy," you grimace. It doesn't matter what you eat during your first two days on your period: your stomach turns upside down.

”Okay, baby." Frankie goes to the cupboard where the coffee and tea are stored. "The pink box?"

"Thanks, yeah, that's the one." You accept the box of tea from him, and your big teacup. Frankie fills the kettle with water and turns it on, before leaning against the sink.

"Wouldn’t want you to fart in your sleep all night,” he teases you with a little smirk. ”I’d send you to the couch immediately.”

”Here we go,” you sigh theatrically as you move into his embrace. ”Total asshole as soon as your dick’s back in your pants.” You kiss his nose before giving it a little nip.

”I was so good to you only thirty minutes ago," he reminds you, feigning offense. You scoff, but you also can't help smiling widely. He's always so good to you, every day. You can't believe your luck.

The microwave pings and you pick out the pad and grab your tea. On your way to the living-room for an uneventful rest of the night on the couch in front of the tv, Frankie catches you in his arms. Pressing his sharp nose to your neck, he inhales deeply and hums in approval.

”Feeling better?”

”If I say yes, are you gonna be a smug asswipe about it?”

”You bet.”

"Then no, I feel like shit." Sweetly, you bat your eyelashes at him. "You're going to have to make at least a bit of an effort."

"I like a challenge."

He follows you to the couch and not even half an episode of Parks and Recreation later, you're admitting that you feel a lot better. Another two episodes, and you're asleep against his side.

[rafael-silva]

hold me close, closer: a tarlos fic

After working the same rough and hectic shift, Carlos and TK share a calming bath to wash away the day’s tension and stress. Being in each other’s arms eases their worries and uplifts their spirits.

@larrytothemoonandback prompted: tk and carlos + sharing a bath

emotional hurt/comfort, light angst, comfort, fluff, cuddles, kisses, carlos reyes needs a hug, softness, really there are so many kisses 

2.3k | on ao3

*****

It had been a long, hectic shift for Carlos and TK.

A never-ending shift of one call after another, as TK dubbed it in one of the few texts he had managed to send Carlos in between blaring bells.

And it appeared from Carlos’s reply of tell me about it that he was going through the same thing.

They had met on a few calls scattered over the hours, and every time, the other man looked slightly more tired and drained. Still, though, they’d give each other small smiles that held the promise of going home to each other when their frantic shifts would finally come to an end.

After returning to the firehouse from their final call, TK robotically made his way to the showers, while chanting hallelujah over and over in his head as he stepped under the warm spray of water.

TK absolutely loved his job, his found family, but some days it would get so exhausting to the point where TK’s knees shake, threatening to give out on him. He holds on, proceeding to also robotically change into his civvies and throw his backpack over his shoulder.

He tells everyone good night as he makes his way towards the Uber, sighing as he drops against the backseat. He then unlocks his phone to send Carlos a message.

TK: Hi, babe. Just moved from the station heading home. Can’t wait to see you.

TK slips the phone back into his pocket and sits in silence until the car pulls up to the condo.

TK whispers something along the lines of thank you to the driver, stumbling up the porch stairs and to the front door, pushing his key into the keyhole. The condo is dark, the missing Camaro from the driveway was TK’s first clue that his boyfriend wasn’t home yet.

He flicks on a light, toeing his shoes off near the door and drops his keys into the bowl sitting on a table near the door. His phone pings in his pocket as he’s walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

He fishes out his phone to see a new text from Carlos.

Carlos: Hey, baby. Can’t wait to see you, too. I just need to finish some paperwork before I get out of here. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

TK: Just arrived home. Take your time, baby. I’ll be waiting for you.

TK sighs again, walking—or more like dragging his feet—up the stairs and into their bedroom. He falls backwards against the bed, closing his eyes as his body collides with the soft mattress, a much-needed sensation after the day he’s had.

He feels bad that he’s finally home and can relax while Carlos is still at the station, working. In hindsight, TK had wished he had gone to the station to meet Carlos there and then they’d go home together.

TK nods to himself, making up his mind. He grabs his phone to text Carlos again.

TK: Let me know when you’re on the way.

He lies back on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through his Instagram and loses track of time. He’s liking a post here and then when a notification from Carlos pops up at the top of his screen.

Carlos: Heading out now.

TK gets to his feet then and steps into the bathroom, turning on the tap in the bathtub and pushes the drain-stopper down. He quickly retrieves Carlos’s favorite candles, some vanilla scented, others lavender, from the bedroom and sets them carefully around the space, lighting each one as the tub fills with hot water. He also grabs the organic mint-scented body wash he and Carlos share and drizzles a good amount in the water, watching it foam up.

TK is looking forward to taking care of Carlos, after the long day they’ve endured. He’s also doing it for himself if he’s also being honest, because he can feel the aches already setting in his muscles and the warm water definitely helps there. But taking care of Carlos is his priority. Besides, that always help him feel better, too.

And TK knows Carlos always appreciates a good bath.

Looking around the bathroom, the paramedic nods, satisfied with the setup.

He hears keys rattling, followed by his name being called a few minutes later.

Downstairs, Carlos discards his keys into the bowl with TK’s and places his wallet next to it. He stretches his neck, moving his head backwards and then side to side until some of the tension there eases.

“Up here!”

Carlos looks in the direction of TK’s voice, and notices the hallway and bedroom lights are switched on. He wills his tired legs to ascend the stairs, and then steps into the bedroom, eyes immediately searching for TK. When they don’t find his boyfriend, he realizes the other man must be in the bathroom.

Before joining him, Carlos unpins his badge from his uniform shirt and removes his belt, unclipping his service weapon as he goes. He crouches in front of the bottom section of his closet, sliding the door over to reveal his safe. He punches in the code, the lock clicking and Carlos places the items inside before locking the safe.

He groans when his knee cracks as he gets to his feet, kicking off his shoes and wasting no time in heading to the bathroom. He just really wants—and needs—to see TK, to hold him, to kiss him.

The sight he’s met with makes his tired face light up and tugs the corner of his lips upwards.

“Welcome home, babe,” TK smiles from his place, now lying in the tub with his arms resting on either side of the marble.

“What’s the occasion?” Carlos asks with an amused lifted eyebrow.

TK shrugs. “Do I need a reason to pamper my boyfriend?”

A blush colors Carlos’s cheeks as his smile widens.

“Care to join me?” TK extends a hand towards Carlos.

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Carlos expresses, hands already working to unbutton and remove his shirt, followed by his undershirt and pants.

As soon as he kicks his boxer-briefs away, he takes TK’s offered hand, holding on to it as he lowers himself into the warm water, sitting between TK’s legs. Moments like these and sharing a bath with TK, always reminds Carlos how grateful he is that he picked a condo with a bathtub big enough to comfortably fit two adults.

Carlos lets out a satisfied sigh as soon as his body is immersed, closing his eyes as he falls back against TK’s chest.

He hears TK chuckle from behind and feels the younger man’s arms go around his waist, effectively pulling him even closer into his hold.

“Besides, we’ve both had incredibly long shifts, I think we deserve this,” TK adds.

“Hm,” Carlos agrees.

“You deserve this, babe. You’ve been working so hard lately.”

Carlos blindly finds TK’s arms with a hand and gives him a squeeze where it lands on an arm.

“I got you, baby,” TK promises.

“You always do,” Carlos responds, dropping his head against TK’s shoulder.

TK moves his head and brushes a soft kiss to Carlos’s temple, feeling the officer gravitate towards his touch.

Comfortable silence settles between them for a while, both of them enjoying finally being in each other’s arms and letting the water wash the day’s troubles away.

“Thank you for this, Ty,” Carlos whispers. “I really needed it.”

TK nods, nuzzling his face against the back of Carlos’s head. “Of course, baby. Anything I can do to help. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Carlos shakes his head after a moment of thought. “Maybe later. Right now, this is all I need.”

“Okay,” TK replies.

“Couldn’t wait to get home to you,” Carlos speaks after a moment.

“Couldn’t wait to have you right here,” TK responds, pressing a sweet kiss to Carlos’s shoulder.

To Carlos’s very tense shoulder.

TK pulls his arms from around Carlos, and the slightly bigger man lets out a disappointed sound at the loss of TK’s touch.

“Just for a minute,” TK reassures his boyfriend. “You’re gonna like this, trust me.”

Carlos trusts TK with his life, but he also already misses TK’s warmth.

However, TK’s assessment of Carlos liking whatever he planned is proven right soon enough, as TK gently uses his thumbs to massage and rub at the heavy knots sitting in Carlos’s muscles.

TK smiles at the heavy groan Carlos breathes out, knowing it’s helping his boyfriend.

“That’s it,” TK whispers. “Let me take care of you.”

Carlos wishes he could turn around and kiss TK in this moment, but between the warm water and TK’s tender ministration, he feels his bones and muscles turning into jelly.

TK pushes down slightly harder, loosening up the worst of the tension he finds, feeling satisfied himself when Carlos sags back against him, clearly feeling a little better.

“That…God, Ty, I needed that, so much.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” TK chuckles. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much,” Carlos nods.

Before returning to their previous position, TK cups some water into his palms and places them over Carlos’s head, letting the water run through the officer’s hair and down his neck. Carlos seems to be onboard with this, as well, because he’s tilting his head backwards a little in TK’s direction.

TK takes the hint and repeats the action a few more times, until Carlos’s hair is damp. TK then slowly cards his fingers through Carlos’s soft curls, the product he applied that morning long gone now.

With a kiss to Carlos’s neck, TK’s arms return to Carlos’s middle, wrapping around him and holding him close once again.

“We both have a day off coming up soon, we can do whatever you want,” TK says.

“Just wanna spend it with you.”

“We can most definitely do that. We can sleep in, have late breakfast in bed, lots of cuddles and oh! We can bake,” TK plans, almost giggling at the idea of baking. It’s one of his favorite things to do with Carlos in their downtime. He mostly sits on the counter while Carlos does most of the baking, but TK also sometimes helps with the batter.

“Sounds perfect, baby,” Carlos smiles, closing his eyes and resting his head back against TK’s shoulder. “Brownies or cookies?”

“Hmm,” TK contemplates for a few seconds. “Cookies, chocolate chip cookies.”

“My specialty,” Carlos replies.

They really are Carlos’s specialty. TK remembers taking a batch of chocolate chip cookies into work one day for everyone, and the crew had gone absolutely mad over them. The huge tupperware container was empty in a matter of minutes.

TK smiles at the memory, remembering not only his team’s joy for the delicious cookies, but also Carlos’s delight and pride when TK told him what had gone down.

The water starts cooling a few minutes later, both men feeling it and a shiver runs through Carlos’s body.

“I think it’s time to get out,” TK’s the first to say. “We can order in and watch a feel-good movie.”

“As tempting and comforting as that sounds, I don’t think I can really rely on my legs to carry me right now,” Carlos chuckles.

TK giggles along and helps Carlos into a sitting position.

“Come on, I’ll help,” the paramedic says, making sure Carlos’s grip on both sides of the marble is secure before stepping out of tub and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He prepares a towel for Carlos before moving back towards him, holding out a hand to the officer.

Carlos takes TK’s hand but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulls TK closer to him. And this time he does kiss TK, closing the distance between them by capturing TK’s lips with his own.

TK, albeit a little surprised, immediately opens up to Carlos, deepening their passionate kiss. His other hand instantly travels to the nape of Carlos’s neck, settling there and he gives Carlos an encouraging squeeze. They pour everything into the kiss, their worry for each other, their concern, their relief for the other’s safety. The kiss has infinite layers to it, and Carlos and TK visit each and every one of them.

Eventually the need for air to wins and they separate. They don’t pull back completely, their foreheads still touching, each of them breathing a little heavily with identical kiss-swollen lips. They breathe each other in, taking it all in.

“Lets get into something comfortable and continue this on the couch,” Carlos whispers into the small space between them.

TK nods and with another light kiss to Carlos’s mouth, he pulls back. He hands Carlos the towel when he’s out of the tub, and they make their way back into their bedroom.

They find themselves nestled against each other on the couch once they’re dressed in comfortable t-shirts and sweats (TK had also grabbed Carlos’s old police academy hoodie on their way down, knowing he’ll be wanting to slip into it later during the night) with Carlos flipping through Netflix.

TK is lying between the officer’s legs, an arm draped over Carlos’s thigh with his back against his chest, his other arm is placed over the one Carlos has wrapped around TK.

“Here,” Carlos says as he hands TK the remote control. “Pick a movie.”

They sit in silence as TK scrolls through the list, Carlos watching him with a fond smile decorating his face.

“Hey,” Carlos whispers.

TK turns to face him, his features filled to the brim with love and affection.

“I love you, Ty.”

A big smile spreads on TK’s face, his green eyes turning soft. “I love you too, ‘Los.”

He leans in, claiming Carlos’s lips in a tender kiss.

They settle back when they pull apart, Carlos planting a kiss to TK’s head.

He inhales the scent that is all TK, and he feels comfort brewing in his gut, he feels safe, he feels whole. He feels lighter as the worries of the day seep away.

Lying on the couch, with TK in his arms, Carlos is home.

And when TK nuzzles his body backwards and moves closer into Carlos’s hold, Carlos knows in his heart that TK is home, too.

[calpalirwin]

Crush, Crush, Crush

Summary: As if having one crush wasn’t complicated enough.

Word Count: 3.4k

And away and away we go!

__

Delilah let out a loud shriek, flinching away as an ice cold water bottle was pressed against the back of her neck. “Mikey!” she kept shrieking as the boy burst into a fit of giggles, pressing the bottle firmer against the girl’s neck, water droplets running down into the back of her shirt. “I’m gonna kill you!” she laughed, turning around.

Michael dropped the bottle and ran for his life, Delilah giving chase, their socked feet sliding around on the hardwood floors, both of them screaming wildly. As a last ditch effort to catch him, Delilah pushed off with her right foot, launching herself towards Michael’s back, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, and his hooking under her legs so they wouldn’t fall.

“Um… wish I could say this usually doesn’t happen… But uh… that’d be a lie,” Calum’s voice sounded from in front of them and both Delilah and Michael snapped their heads to the sound, finding Calum, Luke, and a boy Delilah had yet to meet standing there.

“Didn’t know Mike had a girlfriend,” the boy said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Delilah let out a high pitched giggle as she climbed off Michael’s back, who scoffed, “D’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” the boy said, brightening slightly.

“Yeah, she’s actually my girlfriend. Mike, how could you?!” Calum cried with fake dramatics.

Delilah fake gagged. “Not even in your dreams, Hood,” she told him before focusing her attention on the boy whose name she still didn’t know. “I’m Delilah. And you are?”

“”M Ashton,” he smiled softly.

“Oh, the drummer!”

“Heh,” Ashton giggled nervously, a dimple indenting his cheek. “Yeah, that’d be me.”

“Cool!”

“Yeah, and now that we have a drummer, can we get our other guitarist, and practice?” Luke quipped.

Delilah rolled her eyes at the boy. “I guess you can borrow, Mike. But you owe me one, Hemmings.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

As the group of five made their way into the living room, Michael nudged into Delilah, “Stop staring at Ash,” he teased, low enough so only she heard him.

“I am not staring,” she whispered back. “But if I was…?”

Michael chuckled, understanding her only the way he could. “Two grades above us. Different school. No girlfriend. Good drummer. Definitely sticking this out with us.”

“Fuck, that doesn’t help me not like him, Mike.”

Michael chuckled more. “Yeah, I know.”

~5 Years Later~

Ashton spotted Delilah and Michael already lounging in the sun, sighing internally. How was he ever supposed to think he stood a chance at having either of them, let alone make a move when those two were always joined at the hip? His phone pinged in his hand, and he hoped it was either Calum or Luke saying they were finding parking. Fortunately it was both Calum and Luke. Unfortunately it was both of them saying that something had come up, and they couldn’t make it. “Fuckin’ great…” Ashton muttered under his breath, trudging the last few feet across the sand towards Delilah and Michael. “Hey, guys.”

Both of them shielded the sun out of their eyes as they looked over at Ashton, bright smiles on their faces. “Oh, hey Ash!”

“Hey,” he repeated. “Um, did you see what Cal and Luke said?”

With frowns, they both looked at their own phones. “God damn it…” Michael groaned. “They do this all the time… They wanna hang out, and then they bail on us.”

Delilah shrugged. “Well fuck them. We don’t need them to have fun, do we?” With that, her fingers tugged up the hem of her shirt, to pull the fabric free from her body. “Can one of you help me get my back?” she asked, digging through her bag for a bottle of sunscreen.

Michael almost dropped the bottle, as Ashton gulped, both men sharing a glance. Taking the path of least resistance, they both shared the job of covering the woman’s back in shoulders, Delilah sighing in content as the way their fingers gently massaged her skin. “Thanks guys.”

“No problem…” they mumbled in a rush, their cheeks bright red.

“Um, I can do your guys’ backs if you want…” she suggested.

“Yeah! That’d be great!”

Delilah had to bite down on her lip as both men discarded their shirts, and all three of them took a small moment to clear their throats. “Um… Wanna help me with Mike first, ‘Lila? He might burn quicker than me…” Ashton all but squeaked.

“Good idea,” Delilah giggled, squirting the sunscreen in Ashton’s waiting hand, and then her own. She shared a covert smile with him as they started covering Michael’s back, their fingers knocking into the other’s.

When it was Delilah and Michael’s turn to get Ashton’s back, Ashton shuddered at the way his friends’ fingers carefully went over the tattoo on his neck, before moving to get the rest of his back and shoulders. “Fuck, that tickles,” he giggled airly. “Maybe you should think about getting a spray.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?” she started to flirt, then immediately felt bad at the way Michael’s face scrunched. “I don’t have a lot of faith in spray sunscreen. Every time I use it, I get burned,” she added quickly as an explanation.

After they finished applying the sunscreen to the rest of their exposed skin, Ashton glanced out towards the water. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!” Delilah said, skipping off ahead of them.

“You should go for it,” Michael mumbled to Ashton as they walked together at a slower pace. “You and D… You’d uh… be cute together.”

“What? Pfft… Nah… You think?”

Michael shrugged. “I see the way you look at her. And if I trust anyone with her, it’d be you, ya know?”

“Thanks, Mike. That, um… means a lot. But, I don’t think she sees me that way. Pretty sure she’s into someone else.”

“Shit that blows…”

It was Ashton’s turn to shrug. “Eh, it’s alright. Can’t say I blame her. She has pretty good taste.”

“That she does,” Michael nodded.

~~~

“So, you ever gonna ask him out?” Delilah asked Michael as they sat on the shoreline, watching Ashton still out in the water.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? Ash! When are you gonna ask him out?”

“Uh… never? Cuz he doesn’t like me.”

Delilah snorted, “Yeah, okay. And I’m the Queen of England.”

Michael shook his head, then sighed. “I’m serious, D. Would it be great if Ash liked me the way I like him? Yeah. But that’s not reality.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he likes someone else.”

“Aw, fuck. Sorry, Mike.”

“S’alright. Can’t say I blame him.”

~~~

“You know,” Ashton said to Delilah as they waited for Michael to come back with food for them all. “With Mike, you might have to make the first move.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, c’mon, ‘Lila. You know him better than anybody. You know how shy he can get with stuff like this. Be brave for the both of ya. Make the first move.”

“Waves knock you around a lil too hard there, Ash? You’re talking nonsense.”

“You’re really gonna sit there, and tell me you don’t like Mike?”

“Of course I like Mike. He’s my best friend. But it’s… complicated. There’s a lot of layers that I haven’t figured out. That I don’t think I ever will.”

“You’re telling me…” he muttered under his breath.

Michael approaching with food put an end to the conversation, all three friends sharing a tight lipped smile, more confused than they’d ever been.

~3 Years Later~

Delilah checked the time on her phone, sighing and feeling tears of frustration brim up in her eyes. She had been five minutes early to her date nearly an hour ago. She wasn’t sure which stung more: her messages asking where her date was being left on read, or the look of pity in the waitress’ eyes as Delilah ordered her third glass of wine.

So, rejected, a little tipsy, and unsure of what to do, she called the one person she knew she could always count on.

“Hey ‘Lila,” Ashton’s voice picked up on the second ring that had Delilah feeling even more flustered.

“Oh… H-hey Ash… S-sorry I didn’t mean to call you… um…” she fumbled over her words as she scrambled to hit the end call button.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Aren’t you supposed to be on a date? Are you alright? What’s going on?”

The weight of concern for her in his words was the breaking point. “I got stood up…” she whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Okay. Sit tight. I’m coming.”

“Ash-”

“Shh, it’ll be alright. I’m already on my way.”

“You’re heading out?” Calum questioned as Ashton placed Michael’s phone down on the table.

“I have to.”

“No. Mike has to. She called Mike, Ash.”

Ashton narrowed his eyes pointing into the sound booth where Michael and Luke were laying down tracks. “He’s a lil busy at the moment, and she needs someone now. What am I supposed to do? Not go to her?”

“No, of course not. It’s Del. But… Ash, it’s not a secret that things are all a little complicated between you three. I don’t want to see you get hurt because you played hero to her when it was supposed to be Mike.”

“I’m not doing this to swoop in, and take Mike’s hero moment away from him, Cal. She’s my friend too. And she needs somebody. So you really think I’m gonna let you stop me?”

Calum raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I’m only trying to protect you from getting your heart crushed if this doesn’t match up to the fantasy in your head.”

“And I appreciate that. You know I do. But I got this, Cal. Promise.”

“Alright. Go on then, I’ll explain to them what happened when they’re done.”

“Thanks, Cal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here already.”

Ashton made it to the restaurant in minutes flat, hitting the ground running. He muttered a few apologies and “excuse me”s as he weaved through the people in his way, before finally spotting Delilah staring dejectedly at her empty glass of wine. He steeled himself from the thoughts swirling in his head about how if this had been their date he’d never dare leave her waiting on him. That wasn’t a road he needed to go down right now. “Hey,” he said softly as he took the seat across from her.

She raised her eyes slowly to look over at him, a tearful smile coming to her lips. “Hey…” she whispered.

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I have to pay my bill… Shoulda stuck with water…”

“That’s alright,” he told her, flagging down a waitress. While Delilah got lost in her mind, Ashton settled the bill in hushed tones. “Okay. C’mon,” he said, resting a hand gently on top of hers to get her attention.

“The bill…” she repeated.

“It’s taken care of. C’mon.” He helped her up from her seat, taking off his jacket to drape it over her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her exposed skin.

“You wanna know something?” she asked numbly as they headed for his car.

“What’s that?”

“If I told you how many times I imagined you rushing in to save the day like this… well… your head would spin. And now that it’s real… my head’s spinning.”

“That might be the wine,” he chuckled lightly, opening the door for her. “And uh… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“How do you not know? Everyone else does…” she sighed, relaxing against the leather of the seat.

“Everyone else knows what?”

“That I like you.”

In his shock, he closed the car door with more force than he meant to. When he got in on the driver’s side, she was giggling. “What?” he asked nervously.

“Well that was dramatic,” she continued to giggle. “I like you, slam!”

“I- Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I thought you still liked Mike.”

Delilah sighed somewhat dreamily, and Ashton’s stomach churned. “Yeah. I like him too.”

“Yeah, I kinda gathered as much.  I mean… you did call him, not me. I was just the one who picked up. Still not sure why. I just saw your name and...”

“Had to?” she supplied the rest of his thought.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s you. I wasn’t going to not answer, even if it wasn’t my phone.”

“Just because I like Mike, doesn’t mean I can’t like you too, Ash.”

“Yeah, but it’s different kinds of like.”

“Says who?”

“Says the obvious. You two are the closest, you always have been. And look, I get it. I’m not mad. I get what you see in him, because I see it, too. I just also happen to wish sometimes you saw that in me, too.”

“I do! It’s…” she scrambled to find the words to finally lay this all out on the line.

“Complicated. I know. I remember.” The words came out bitter, and they both hated it. Delilah for not having the words to fix it, and Ashton for the crushed look in her eyes when she was already having a shitty night. He let out a slow sigh, collecting himself. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “We shouldn’t be doing this right now. This is a conversation we can have at a different time. I should be taking you home.”

“No,” she pressed. “I want to have this conversation now. Ash… I like both of you. I’ve liked Mike my entire life, and I’ve liked you since the minute I met you. And… the reason I haven’t been brave enough to do something about it is because I also know that you two like each other. And… I like you guys too much as my friends to ruin the dynamic I guess? When I don’t choose, it’s only me who gets hurt. Because I’d rather have neither of you, than have one and the other feel jealous.”

“Oh… Damn… That adds a whole ‘nother layer to this, doesn’t it?”

“Yep… They don’t have books or movies for how to deal with love triangles like this… this is… uncharted territory.”

“Yep… Well fuck. If all three of us like each other, why don’t we all just date?” Ashton suggested.

“How would that dynamic work?”

“No idea. But, if anyone could figure it out, I’d bet it’d be us.”

“And if Mike doesn’t… Would you and me still…?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“You don’t… feel like that makes us consolation prizes to each other? Like we can’t both have Mike, so we’re settling for each other?”

“Nothing about being with you is me settling for you, ‘Lila. I want you.”

“I want you, too.”

“And we just happen to also want Mike,” Ashton couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all.

“Do you think he wants us, too? I mean, I know he wants you. I just don’t know if he wants me.”

“Oh, he does. Trust me, he does. Anybody would be stupid not to.” Ashton let out his next breath slowly, running his hands through his hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please,” she breathed, leaning across the center console towards him. He met her in the middle, his fingers gripping lightly on her chin to guide her lips to his, her own hands coming up to cradle his face. “Thanks for coming to get me,” she murmured as they broke the kiss.

“Of course,” he smiled softly. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

Ashton giggled and started the car. “Alright, we’ll grab some food, and then I’ll take you home.”

“We should get something for Mike, too. He’ll have known by now that I called, and that you came to get me, so he’ll be waiting for us. Right?”

“If he’s done laying down tracks with Luke, yeah. That’s probably a safe bet.”

They fell silent, Delilah finally breaking the silence only after they had picked up food for themselves and Mike. “Hey, Ash?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, reaching out to lower the volume of the radio.

“Are you scared?”

“Terrified,” he nodded. “It’s uh… not every day you tell the girl, and the boy, you’ve been crushing on for years that you’ve been crushing on them for years, with the follow up being if it’s cool if you can all date each other.”

Delilah giggled, “God, this is fuckin’ crazy…”

“100% certifiably nuts,” Ashton giggled with her as he pulled into her driveway, next to Michael’s car and spotting the man waiting for them on the porch. Ashton shut off the car and turned to look at Delilah. “Ready?”

“God, no.”

“It’s Mike. He’s our best friend.”

“I know. But I’m still…”

“Scared? Yeah, me too. His hands grabbed hers, brushing soft kisses across her knuckles. “But I’ll be right here with you. C’mon,” he coaxed. 

They left the security of the car, and walked up to where Michael was waiting. He rose slowly to his feet, eyes locking on Ashton and Delilah’s hands that were clasped together. “Oh… I see you two have uh… that’s great. Happy for you guys…” His gaze flickered over to the food bag in Delilah’s other hand. “And I’m intruding, so I’m gonna head out. Glad your night worked out.”

“Mike, wait,” Ashton said, reaching out to stop the younger man. “There’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

“No offense to either of you right now, cuz I love this for you guys, I really do. But uh… I’m a little tired and hungry from the studio. I just stopped by cuz I saw you had called, D, and wanted to make sure you were okay. And you are. So um… can we save the ‘we’re dating’ conversation for tomorrow?”

Delilah shook the bag of food. “We picked you up something, too. Please, Mikey?”

~~~

“So… let me see if I got this right. In addition to crushing on each other, you both also have a crush on me?” Michael asked, after Ashton and Delilah brought him up to speed.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Delilah nodded, leaning forward to set the now empty take out food container on the coffee table.

Michael looked over at Ashton with a raised eyebrow, “How drunk is she?”

Ashton giggled, while Delilah gaped at Michael and gave him a small shove with an indignant “Hey! I’m not that drunk. Anymore…”

“Well fuck! So we’ve all just been crushing on each other, and swallowing our pride, so nobody gets their feelings hurt except ourselves?”

“Can’t leave out the stupidest part of how all of us at some point encouraged someone to make a move on someone else.”

“Fuck, no wonder Cal and Luke bail on so many plans with us… This shit is infuriating… But now that it’s all cleared up, what do we do? How does this… work exactly?”

“I don’t know… I have enough trouble figuring out how to date one person…” Ashton admitted, making the other two laugh in agreement. “But if anyone can figure it out, it’s us, yeah?”

“Exactly,” Delilah smiled at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “We’re all friends first. There isn’t anything we keep from each other.”

“Minus the crushes we all had on each other, that is,” Michael amended. Then, “So… have you guys kissed yet?”

“We did, yeah,” Ashton told him, with a sheepish grin.

“Fuckers…”

“Aw, poor baby,” Delilah teased, leaning towards Michael to press a kiss to his cheek. At the last possible second, Michael turned his head, so her lips locked onto his rather than the intended target of his cheek.

He sighed in content against her lips, tasting the barest traces of wine still leftover, sweet and savory. “Can’t begin to tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he murmured as they broke apart.

“Well, now you can do it whenever you want,” she smiled.

Ashton cleared his throat. “Still here.”

Michael’s cheeks flushed. “Right. Yeah… erm…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ashton groaned, hooking his fingers under Michael’s chin to get them to look at each other. “It’s a kiss, dumbass, not rocket science.”

“Calling your boyfriend a dumbass isn’t very nice of you,” Michael teased lightly. 

Ashton shuddered as his lips crushed into Michael’s, “Fuck, say that again.”

“Boyfriend,” Michael grinned against Ashton’s mouth.

“My boyfriends,” Delilah beamed proudly at them.

“Our girlfriend,” they chorused back.

__

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996​ @creator-appreciator​ @philthepegacorn​ @myfavfanficsever​ @cxddlyash​ @youngblood199456​ @stormrider505​ @tarltongrl96 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @hoodhoran​ @metalandboybands​ @maybeememez​ @major5sosstan​

[somesuperherowrites]

To the Rescue

request: Will you do a Luke Alvez x Reader Drabble where you’re taken by an Unsub and he just barely rescues you and it’s all fluff and all love and all goodness!

a/n: part 2 will contain the fluff !

....

Luke paced around the bullpen anxiously. You weren’t answering any of his texts or calls. Normally, this wouldn’t worry him. He knew you usually took a while to respond, but right now the team had just gotten a case in D.C. and the unsub’s type fit you exactly. When he had seen the pictures of the unsub’s victims, it felt like he had been drenched in ice water. They could have been your mirror image.

He nervously dialed your number again and put the phone up to his ear, “c’mon, c’mon Y/N. Please pick up.”

“Hey, this is Y/N! Leave a message and I’ll call you back.” Your bubbly voice resounded in his ear. Luke quietly cursed to himself. He was going to have to ask Garcia to ping your phone.

Luke practically ran to where Garcia was sitting with Emily in the conference room. “Hey, uh, Garcia. I need you to ping Y/N’s phone for me please.”

Penelope quirked her eyebrow questioningly, but began typing on her tablet.

Emily looked at him concerned, “Luke, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N fits the unsub’s type and I can’t get her on the phone. Oh god... what if he has her Emily.” He was very quickly breaking down and he knew that, but the thought of a serial killer kidnapping you was enough to make him panic.

Emily nodded, “Garcia, did you find anything?”

Garcia stared at her tablet, “Yeah, her phone last pinged right outside your apartment complex. But that was three hours ago.”

“Penelope! Where is she now?” Luke took a shuddering breath. He had to remain rational. Maybe you had turned your phone off for some reason once you were in the apartment.

Please. Please. Please. Be in the apartment Y/N.

“Here is the video footage from the camera near where her phone was last pinged.” Garcia pressed play and the three of them watched as you walked down the sidewalk.

Luke’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw a man approach you and start talking. No alarms bells appeared to be going off in your head. You seemed calm. You pointed down the street and the man nodded his head. As soon as you turned your back, the man forced a cloth over your mouth.

“Oh my god.” Penelope breathed out. They were watching your abduction.

Luke watched as you resisted at first then quickly surrendered to the drugs. Your limp body was then thrown into a nearby van. The whole interaction had take 2 minutes.

“Damn it!” Luke tightened his hand into a first and punched the table. He tightly closed his eyes with his fist resting on the table. Truth be told, it was the only thing keeping him from falling over right now. God, this couldn’t be happening.

“Penelope, track that van and run facial rec. I’m going to get the team.” Emily commanded as she stood up.

She walked over and placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “We’re going to get her back Luke.”

Luke bit his lip. He wasn’t one to cry in front of others, but right now, he was fighting like hell to not break down sobbing in the conference room. He pushed himself up off the table. There was only one thought running through his mind now - he had to get you back.

....

You groggily shook your head. Where were you?

You winced as the memories came flooding back to you. Shit. Someone had kidnapped you. Panic began to overtake you and you struggled against the restraints that we hanging you from the ceiling.

How could you have been so stupid. You had pepper spray and you hadn’t even used it. Luke would be so disappointed that you hadn’t fought back hard enough. Luke.

You took a deep breath to keep from crying. Luke was going to find you. You had to believe that.

Footsteps sounded from the hallway near where you were being held. Your eyes widened. Oh god, he was probably a serial killer. You couldn’t survive this. Luke was the tough one in your relationship. He was strong and good and could handle all the bad that the world had to offer. You couldn’t.

He was going to save you. Luke was coming for you.

You pulled against your restraints as hard as you could as a man appeared in front of you with a knife. You cried as you felt him press the cool metal of the blade against your throat.

His breath fanned your face and he smiled, “I’m gonna have fun with you.”

....

Luke paced the floor and exhaustedly ran his hands through his hair. “What are we missing? We have to be missing something,” he demanded looking around to the team members who were tirelessly working in the bullpen.

“Luke,” Emily started gently, “it’s been 3 days. You haven’t left and you’ve barely slept. You need a break.”

Luke scoffed, “do you think she’s gotten a break from the unrelenting hell this unsub is no doubt putting her through?” Heavy silence met his rhetorical question.

“Yeah, me neither. Emily we’re running out of time. He keeps them for 4 days at most. He tortures them, brands them, then dumps their body; and I.. I can’t -“ his voice broke.

Emily stepped towards him and looked him in the eye, “Luke, we can’t think like that. Okay? We’re missing something. You’ve studied this case more than anyone. What are we missing?”

Luke stared at the board in response. What was he missing?

“Hey Spencer!” he began putting together the dots of thoughts in his mind.

Spencer looked up from where he was sitting at his desk, “yeah?”

“Do you have that geological profile?” Spencer nodded and held the map up, which Luke snatched out of his hand.

Luke slammed the paper on the table, “there it is! the letters are of the streets the bodies were found are spelling out my name. Atlantic Street, Lawrence Avenue, Victor Street, East Capital. There’s no Z because that’s where he has her.”

Prentiss’ eyes widened. “Spencer, what street names in D.C. start with a Z?”

Spencer racked his brain, “There’s only one. It’s called Zei Alley. It’s two minutes away from the White House. Do we think he’s that bold?”

“No, I think he’s that stupid.” Luke grabbed the keys from his desk and paused when no one was moving. “Let’s go! He kills them at that location on the 4th day. She doesn’t have that much time.”

Prentiss nodded, “you heard the man. let’s go save Y/N.”

....

Your body was on fire. Anytime you moved, you felt the sharp sting of the cuts that littered your body. Luckily, he hadn’t cut too deeply. Unluckily, everything he did seemed to be because he wanted to cause you maximum pain.

You tried to lift yourself up on the top of your tip toes to give your arms some much needed relief. Being shackled from the ceiling was torture in itself.

You felt tears fall freely from your face as you heard footsteps coming toward you. You closed your eyes in dread. You knew what was coming, and you couldn’t take anymore.

“Please, please stop,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. It’ll all be over soon.” He grunted as he lifted your body against his so that he could undo your chains. He let your arms fall unceremoniously to your sides.

You screamed at the blinding pain that was taking over you. If you thought your arms had hurt before, boy were you wrong.

Your captor sneered at you, “Oh, shut up.”

He placed some a damp cloth against your mouth, and you welcomed the sweet darkness that it brought with it.

...

It wasn’t long before the team arrived at the location that the ubsub was going to bring you to. There was no sign of you yet, but everyone was waiting undercover and ready to jump in the second they saw you.

After 2 hours of waiting, a white van pulled up by Zei alley.

Luke immediately brought the team’s attention to this new development. “Guys, I’ve got a white van by the alley.”

Emily looked over the newspaper that she was holding as she sat on a bench. “I’ve got eyes on the van.”

They watched as the driver got out and approached the passenger side. He pulled the passenger out and help them up.

“Passenger looks unconscious. This is definitely our guy. Move in.” Prentiss commanded.

As the unsub shuffled you into the alley, he was surrounded. He held your body close to his and used you as a shield for protection.

Luke’s breath caught in his throat. You weren’t even awake. You couldn’t fight back. He wanted to scream in anger - how was this fair?

Luke licked his lips as he was thinking and his eyes darted between you and the unsub. “Okay, I’m going to put my gun away, and they’re going to back up, okay?” Luke slowly placed his weapon in its holster.

The unsub tightened his grip around you and shoved the knife deeper into your throat, so droplets of blood were now appearing on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look. You want me, right? That’s why you were spelling out Alvez, huh? Now take me instead of her okay?” At this point Luke was practically begging, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t want it to go down like this, okay man? You don’t wanna do this,” Luke pleaded.

The unsub was seemingly persuaded and loosened his grip on you for a second. A look of hatred flashed in his eyes. “You’re wrong,” he snarled and plunged the knife into your side.

....

You were trying so hard to open your eyes. Something was going on, but you couldn’t open your eyes. You thought you heard Luke’s voice faintly come in and out of focus. “down....don’t wanna..”

Was Luke coming to save you?

You suddenly felt a searing pain in your side and immediately screamed Luke’s name.

Gunshots sounded and you fell to the ground with the unsub. Everything was hazy and pain was consuming all your senses, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt when someone picked you up that it was Luke.

Your eyes kept fluttering open. Trying to stay conscious to see Luke was hard.

“Hey, hey, hey. I need you to stay awake for me Y/N. Can you do that?” Luke pleaded with you. His voice was like crystal water washing over you. So refreshing. Just what you wanted and exactly what you needed.

Even though you were pretty sure you were bleeding out, his voice was enough to make you quirk the side of your mouth into a slight smile. You knew you couldn’t talk, but you kept your eyes open long enough to meet Luke’s concerned gaze for a second before finally falling unconscious.

“No. No. Don’t do this Y/N.” He grabbed your face in his hands. “Come on. Please...” Tears were freely falling from his eyes and he desperately held pressure to your wound while begging you, pleading with you to stay with him.

In a second, medics ripped you from his arms and began applying pressure to your stab wound. They rushed to place you on the gurney and into the ambulance. Luke blindly followed them, unwilling to be apart from you for even a second.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Country Roads, Take Me Home: Chap. 3

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye

Read Chapters 1-2 Here

                              XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not only was there no sex, there was also no sleep. Patrick Dempsey and his friends kept up their ruckus on and off all night long so that Kensi and Deeks both got up in the morning groggy and disgruntled.

Bill and Carol, on the other hand, had apparently enjoyed a perfect night’s sleep because they emerged from their RV with their perpetually cheery smiles and the entire pack of dogs leashed and ready for a hike. “Well good morning lovebirds!” Carol said. “You two don’t look like you got much sleep.” She sent them a suggestive wink.

“It was a little noisy,” Deeks said, rubbing his eyes as he looked at her over his coffee mug.

“Uh oh, did our boys keep you up?” Bill asked with a chuckle. “Sorry about that. They’re all night owls. Carol and I just sleep through it anymore.”

“Yeah well maybe try giving them a melatonin or an Advil PM or something,” Deeks grumbled.

“What are you two up to today?” Carol asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” Kensi said. Her mug was tipping precariously in her hand, coffee threatening to spill over the lip to the ground below. 

“Well don’t waste all your time sitting here! Get on out there and enjoy the scenery!” Bill said. 

“Have a good day!” Carol gave a little wave as they started their walk, dogs trailing along beside them.

“I hate them,” Deeks growled.

“Me too,” Kensi echoed, staring sleepy daggers at their backs.

It took an hour and a lot of coffee, but both of them finally woke up enough to decide on a hike up the Yosemite Falls trail. Deeks claimed he was feeling landlocked and thought maybe a view of some water would help. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided on a road trip to decidedly landlocked states,” Kensi said as they pulled on hiking boots.

“I planned this trip for you, not me! If it were up to me we’d be in Bora Bora right now!”

As far as hikes went it was only moderately strenuous, especially for people who had spent the last three vacations chasing or running from bad guys through a variety of difficult terrains. And the payoff was huge. “Wow,” Deeks said when the falls finally came into view. “All right that’s pretty incredible.”

“Yeah it is,” Kensi said, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s get closer.”

It was early enough in the day that there were only a few groups of people taking in the sights, which meant Kensi and Deeks had a very clear view of the scenery without a lot of selfie sticks and noisy tourists around. The wind changed as they got closer and began blowing spray on them. “Here,” Kensi pulled out her phone. “Let’s take a picture to send to the guys to prove we can go on vacation successfully.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and they smiled brightly while she snapped a few pictures. “One more,” she said, kissing him on the cheek while she snapped away. “That one’s just for me.”

Deeks grinned. “And this one’s just for me.” He kissed her on the lips, lifting her up a bit so her feet left the ground. “Happy we came?”

She nodded, pressing her forehead against his. “For sure.”

They considered pressing on to either Yosemite Peak or Eagle Point, but Kensi was hungry for something other than trail mix so instead they headed back down the mountain intent on an early dinner and maybe a nap to make up for last night’s lost sleep. 

“What is that noise?” Kensi asked as they walked back into the campground.

“Sounds like a baseball game,” Deeks said. “Like a full on, major league baseball game.”

“Where is it coming from?”

“Somewhere far away from us I hope.”

It was not coming from far away. It was coming from directly next to their RV where Bill and Carol had somehow managed to hook up a large, flatscreen TV outside their own camper and were watching a baseball so game so loudly it was almost like being there in person. 

“Well hey neighbors how was your hike?” Bill asked, muting the sound.

“It was uh, it was good,” Deeks said, eying the television. “What do you have going on here?”

“Oh you know, I can’t be without the game when we’re on the little road trips we take. Go Brewers!”

“Is that Kensi and Marty?” Carol poked her head out. “Oh perfect timing! I was just putting together some of my world famous chocolate chip banana bread. Kensi, come on in and help me.”

“Oh, no that’s okay,” Kensi said, but Carol grabbed her arm and pulled her inside while Kensi shot a desperate look at Deeks over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll just go make dinner,” Deeks called.

“Oh no, don’t go yet! Come on, have a seat!” Bill patted the camp chair next to him. “You follow baseball son?”

Deeks reluctantly sank into a faded, green camp chair. “Uh, no, no I don’t really,” Deeks said. “Not really a sports guy.”

Bill grunted. “Yeah ‘spose I could have guessed that from the hair.”

Deeks self-consciously touched his curls. “I mean, I get the general idea. Ball. Bat. Bases.”

“Well good. It is America’s pastime after all. Oh, Brewers are back up.”

Bill turned the volume back on and Deeks had to resist the urge to cover his ears as the announcer’s voice blasted through the screen. 

Meanwhile inside the camper Kensi was sweating it out with Carol in the tiny kitchen. “Carol, I have to tell you baking’s not really my thing,” Kensi said nervously as she was handed a mixing bowl and spoons.

“Nonsense! Banana bread’s so easy a baby could do it,” Carol said, measuring out some sugar. “Here. You measure out the flour while I get going on these bananas.”

Kensi nervously dumped some flour into the cup. Carol turned around to take it from her and her eyes grew wide. “Oh my. You weren’t kidding about your kitchen skills were you?”

“Yeah De—Marty is more of the chef in our house,” Kensi said as Carol leveled the flour off and added it to her mixture.

“You two are so…non-traditional,” Carol said brightly. “You’d never know from looking at you that your skillset tended more toward the masculine.”

“Well I’m not sure—“ Kensi’s words were drowned out by the sound of the mixer. 

“Hand me those eggs would you dear?” Carol yelled.

Kensi handed them over. “So how did you and Martin meet?” Carol asked loudly as she deftly cracked the eggs into the bowl.

Kensi’s danger radar flared up. She and Deeks hadn’t discussed a cover story because they hadn’t anticipated running into anyone on this trip. If she picked one story to tell Carol and Deeks picked another, they were going to be in trouble. Poughkeepsie Ping Pong? America’s Next Top Hang Glider? Dr. Who, Medicine Woman?

“Tennis,” Kensi finally said. “Deeks is an avid tennis player and ended up with some shoulder problems. I was his massage therapist.”

“Well if that isn’t a love story for the books,” Carol said delightedly as she added chocolate chips to the batter. “My Bill and I were high school sweethearts. Took one look at him in his football uniform and that was that.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Kensi said. 

“We’ve taken a little trip every summer since,” Carol said, batter going into pans. “It’s good for couples to keep things fresh. Most important thing in a marriage.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Second most important thing is making sure you please your man. Don’t want him to stray to greener pastures. Not that you have to worry about that yet. You’re young! But your looks will only last for so long. That’s when you have to start getting creative in the bedroom.”

Kensi’s alarm bells ratcheted up several notches. She had to get out of here. Now. “Oh, wow, is that the time?” She pretended to check her phone. “Yikes, so sorry Carol but Marty and I have got to go. Gotta catch the sunset and all that.”

“Oh but you didn’t get to try any banana bread,” Carol said, disappointment clouding her face.

“Rain check,” Kensi told her. “Thanks so much for the offer!”

She burst out of the trailer doors and grabbed Deeks’s arm, yanking him out of the chair. “Ow, hey, what—“

“Babe we’ve got to go now if we’re going to see the sunset, remember?” she said loudly, over the roar of the game. 

“Oh right, yeah. Thanks Bill!”

“Anytime!” Bill gave a wave, eyes still glued to the screen as he raised a beer to his lips.

“Kensi, ow, hey loosen the grip, loosen the grip, where are we going?” Deeks asked as she dragged him down the road.

“Anywhere. Anywhere that’s not here,” she said, wrenching his arm as she took a sharp left turn.

“Okay, OW! Hey!” He stopped and pulled his arm away from her. “Easy on the merchandise! You want to tell me what the heck happened in there that has us fleeing on foot?”

“Why does everyone always think we need help with our sex lives?” Kensi cried.

Deeks spluttered, eyes wide. “Uh…what?”

“Carol is in there baking up banana bread and telling me how I need to make sure I ‘please’ you so you don’t go for some sort of young, hot, short skirt wearing, Suzy homemaker!”

“Suzy—what?”

“Deeks,” she looked him in the eye. “Be honest with me. Our sex is good right?”

There was only one right answer and fortunately it also happened to be the truth. “Yes! Yes, Kens, of course it’s good. It’s great! It’s…fantastic.”

“But is it creative?”

“Creative how? Like sometimes we stay up and do it after midnight or like kinky Nell and Eric dressing like elves kind of stuff?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t let her get that far.” Kensi’s eyes widened. “Maybe I should have let her.”

“Babe I really don’t think you need sex advice from Carol. In fact, I really don’t want you to take sex advice from Carol.”

But Kensi had clearly stopped listening. Determination stole over her face and she grabbed Deeks’ hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going now?”

“To get creative.”

“What about the sunset?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Who says we can’t do both?”

Deeks’ jaw went slack. “Uh…”

Kensi’s creativity included a blanket, a secluded spot, and indeed, a pretty spectacular view of the sunset. “Well,” Deeks said breathlessly, as Kensi ran a hand across his chest. “That wasn’t just creative, that was full on art.”

“Take that Carol,” Kensi said smugly.

Deeks winced. “Yeah, babe, as great as this has been I don’t really want to be thinking about Carol and Bill while we’re making sweet, sweet love.”

“Sorry. You’re right.”

She rolled on top of him, intent on starting round two. “Hey, speaking of Bill and Carol though…”

Kensi stopped kissing him and sat up. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about them.”

“Well you brought them up! I was in their RV yesterday and I didn’t see that giant TV in there.”

“You were distracted by the dogs, right? Maybe you just didn’t see it.”

“It’s a pretty big TV and that’s a pretty small RV. I feel like I would have noticed.”

“Right. So you’re suggesting that Bill and Carol, mom and pop midwestern, baseball watching, banana bread baking, Bill and Carol what? Stole it?”

Deeks shrugged. “Call it detective’s intuition.”

She sent him a bemused look. “If you really had detective’s intuition you would know what I’m thinking about right now.”

With a quick move Deeks flipped them so that she was on her back, a grin on his face. “Is it something like this?”

What he did next made Kensi gasp. “That’s a good start,” she managed.

There was no more talk of Bill and Carol after that.

[iphoenixrising]

For 800 Followers: Tiny!Tim and the Wrong Bus

SO MANY TINY!TIM ASKS. So many. And, ah, I didn’t write any of these suggestions, so I’m sorry babes. But I feel this thing probably happened between the Bats finding Tim alone in his house all sick in Tiny!Tim and the Fever, and before the one where he admits he knows who they are in Tiny!Tim and the Secret. Like, B and J still think they’re keeping it from him, lol. 

Just a note: I was really freaked out about this one and tbh, I was going to just wipe it out and try something different. A very cool babe, @ishouldprobablyworkoutmore gave me some terribly helpful perspective on what I originally had. @satire-please and @miss-choco-chips let me cry a little as per usual. I’m a little better now, so to all those Asks hoping for more Tiny!Tim, you can thank my babes for it :D

**

Mister Alfred is going to be real mad, little Timmy Drake thinks, dazed as he looks around, because the bus can’t make it to my house if the side is torn out.

The initial hit knocked the bus completely on the side, knocking him into the window where he hit his head pretty hard. For a few minutes after the screaming stopped and everything was still, he thought he might throw-up because it hurt. Finally righting himself, the pain in his head subsides as his heart starts pounding so so so fast, making it taste gross in the back of his mouth.

Someone is groaning close to him and someone else is crying. It smells like important things are burning.

Miss May, his first grade teacher, had already covered what to do in case of a villain attack at school. Mr. Mike, the bus driver, had shown them all the emergency exits, where the first-aid kit is, and how to use the extinguisher at the beginning of the year.

None of it helps his shaky, stinging hands, and it’s hard to get to the front when fear is chasing him in the panicked scramble over the seats and broken glass since the bus is on it’s side in the middle of the street in downtown Gotham.

Some of the glass cuts into his knees and hands, but–but he can’t stop! He’s got to think like (Robin) Jay and get to supplies, put the fire out before it can get to the gas tank. If he doesn’t, the whole bus could explode, and all the kids are still on the bus, whimpering and scared. Even the older kids. None of them are moving, none of them know what to do.

So. So, he needs a plan!

He needs to put out the fire and get everyone off the bus!

His fingers scrabble with the latches, and he’s perched precariously with one foot on the big steering wheel and the other on the dashboard. The big storage space in the front of the bus, above the jagged windshield finally gives with a metal groan and Tim blinks tears out of his eyes, bites down on his lower lip, and tries, tries so hard, to stop shaking enough that he can get the fire extinguisher out without falling over Mr. Mike’s body sprawled on the steps below him.

He’s trying to concentrate, trying to think past the twisted metal of what used to be his ride, trying to think about Mister Alfred in the front seat of the big, shiny car with Jay souched in the back, picked up from big school already, just waiting for him since he goes to Wayne Manor on days when Mrs. Mac isn’t scheduled to come.

It’s been almost a year now since they’d found him sick and achy during a bad storm when Mrs. Mac couldn’t make it out. Since then, he’s been meeting a sleek car parked by the bus stop so he wouldn’t have to walk all the way home. On days Mrs. Mac wouldn’t be coming, it was a given he’d be eating dinner and doing his homework at Wayne Manor. Most times, he’d be directed to a room upstairs when it was late. Mr. Wayne would tell him he might as well stay the night, and let Alfred drop him off at the bus stop in the morning.

On the usual day, Jay and Alfred would talk to him about school during the ride, make him warm when he’s included in the conversation and questions are asked about his assignments. During dinner Mister Wayne (“Just Bruce is okay, Tim.” “Okay, Mr. Bruce.” “Well. That’s better than nothing.”) would be there coming back from his office with that scrunchy line between his eyebrows.

(Timmy thinks it’s really the Batman trying to get out. It might be silly, but he imagines it kind of like Sailor Moon. Mr. Bruce holds up his utility belt or a special Batarang, and then transforms into the Batman!)

Today, he isn’t going to meet that car to tell Jay and Alfred about school.

Instead, he’s going to use both hands to squeeze the difficult trigger on the fire extinguisher, get bopped by it before white foam coats the flames, and other kids are peeking over the seats at him and the smouldering fire.

Instead, he holds on to it desperately with both arms once the fire is out and makes himself think about how Batman sounds when he tells the bad guys to let the hostages go, give up or else. Thinking about Batman gives Timmy enough strength to turn on all those terrified expressions and grit his teeth before he opens his mouth to start yelling, yelling at the top of his lungs, for everyone to get out the emergency door in the back.

“Get out right now! Get out or else I’m gonna tell. I’m gonna tell all your moms and dads! And you’re going to be in so much trouble.”

That really does the trick and heads pop up immediately at the mention of trouble.

Little Timmy points at the only accessible exit, the big door at the back of the overturned bus since one emergency window is literally blocked by the street and the other is over their heads. The front entrance is blocked by Mr. Mike, so there’s no way they’re getting out there either. The only way to go is out the back, and he starts shoving kids that way while brandishing the fire extinguisher and yelling even more.

He struggles to get over the seats again, trying to push the bigger kids to the back, away from the ripped metal and broken glass. Once the bigger ones start moving, getting the younger ones up and over the seats, Timmy goes back to pull at Mr. Mike still lying halfway down the steps where he landed when the bazooka Two-Face was holding exploded into rush hour traffic.

Tim is really, really relieved Mr. Mike’s eyes are open this time, and the adult is struggling to stand up, eyes dazedly looking around for the other kids he’s in charge of seeing home safely.  

Timmy grabs his hand when his legs seem kind of wobbly and walks him to the back of the broken bus, assuring the driver he’s already gotten most of the kids out the back because at least he was paying attention when they were going over emergency procedures. He’s sure Mr. Mike will be super proud when his head isn’t bleeding anymore.

The other kids are huddled around a Fire and Rescue Squad already on site, and Mr. Mike leans on him a little the whole time they cross the chaotic streets.

Automatic gunfire rips through the daytime scramble of screaming civilians, fire and rescue trying to put out flames and pry people out of their cars, trying to contain the madness.

Two-Face is standing up out of the sunroof of his getaway car, Tommy gun going off in rapid bursts while he laughs and laughs and laughs.

“It’s a good day for a trip to downtown! Love ya, Gotham!”

And someone... someone has to do something!

(Maybe be can follow and-and try to keep them from getting away until Bruce and Jay– no, Batman and Robin–can get here!)

He still has the fire extinguisher held tightly in one arm while he slips his hand out of Mr. Mike’s when the paramedics grab the injured bus driver and herd the other kids inside Gotham Water Works to get the civilians away from the rampaging villain, standard protocol really.

But Timmy is so small, and he can fit in some of the best places. He can dart to the side and hide in the right ways so nobody even sees him.

It’s easy to slip away from the group, leaving the fire extinguisher in his place to scramble up the pipe drain to the fire escape where he can see better.

He still has his backpack, so he has pepper spray, his homework, and something he might have accidentally taken from one of the crime scenes in Gotham when he was out on his own.

(Jay never has to know it’s one of Robin’s. None of them ever have to know he figured it out.)

He huffs as he climbs up the fire escape with shaky arms and sweaty hands, his knees trembly and his belly fluttering. He thinks about just reaching up to grab the next rung, to keep stepping up, tries to keep his mind on the next step up instead of getting scared at how high he’s climbing. He thinks about how Robin had to have been scared his first time on the rooftops too, how scared Batman must have been back when he’d first started out.

It’s the strength he imagines they must have had to overcome their fears and still leap out into the night, how terrified they must have been against some of the worst criminals the first time, how they didn’t ever stop when people were in danger. It’s really their strength that gets him up to the first floor on wobbly legs. It’s their strength that makes him breathe, keeps him from running away when people on the street could be in trouble.

He runs across to look down over the other side, watches as the madman laughs more and fires his guns in the air, screaming at Gotham because “here’s your downtown beautification!”

Timmy gasps for breath, ducks down when he hears the soft metallic pings all around him.

In the alley next to where Two-Face’s goons are moving toward Gotham Bank & Trust, going to scare the patrons and get the room ready for the big boss’s dramatic entrance, the little boy flings his backpack off and digs around inside.

The bottom has a little lose thread, something he’d noticed keeps the two pieces of canvas sewn together. Once it started unravelling, he could fit his finger into a nice little pocket he’d made–

–for the thing he’s going to need if he’s going to try keeping Two-Face from getting away until Batman and Robin come to their rescue. Dangerous-looking and heavy, the Batarang is heavy in his hand when it’s folded closed.

In his own room, after Mrs. Mac left for the night and he was all by himself, he’d flip it around, flip it open, pretend he was standing by Batman and Robin, fighting the good fight with them! The plastic black mask from last year’s Zorro costume and the blanket off his bed tied around his neck, all of it made him feel real.

But this...this is more real than that, more important.

He needs to help them, he needs to stop the bad guy from getting away to hurt more people. He needs to–

(be a hero)

–have a plan.

Luckily, the cheap mask is in the hidden pocket along with the Batarang, but putting it on out here with one of the Rogue Gallery’s fearsome bad guys right below him makes it so much more important than when he was playing at being a hero in his room. The mask is more than plastic and string, more than playing.

He feels taller, stronger, like he can do what he needs to do, like he’s wearing a cape and gloves and gauntlets. Like he’s standing between the people of Gotham and those Tommy guns.

(I have to keep Two-Face from getting away. Just until Batman and Robin can get here. I have to be brave, I have to do this!)

His jaw clenches tight, and little Timmy Drake puts his backpack back on quickly, slides the Batarang in the back of his jeans so it’s easy to reach, and throws himself on the ladder going back down to street level.

He drops the last two or so feet and manages not to fall too hard or draw attention to himself, keeps his eye on the car that has screeched to a halt right by bank. Two-Face has stopped shooting, is reloading the Tommy gun while he steps out of the car, and looks like he’s about to make a grand entrance.

With his heart beating in his throat, wishing he hadn’t lost his cellphone when the bus was hit, Timmy peeks around the wall of the alleyway, watches everyone pile out of the car and move to the front doors. His mouth is dry, his knees are a little wobbly still, but it’s going to be okay.

Batman and Robin have to be on the way.

**

Two-Face’s goons throw the door to the bank open wide for him, and all of them walk inside.

It’s the chance he needs to sneak out of the alley to the getaway car, fighting down the panic and bitter taste of bile in the back of his mouth.

The soft sigh when he flips open the Batarang gives him courage, reminds him that he can do this. He has to do this.

Crouching down, he uses both hands to drive the Batarang into the back tire as hard as he can, grunting with the effort to get it through to puncture.

The scratches in his palms hurt because he’s gripping the Batarang so hard, but he’s helping Batman and Robin, so it’ll all be okay.

For good measure he moves to the front and does the same, straining with the effort, eyes watery because his hands hurt more now, but he makes himself sniffle softly and blink rapidly while the air hisses out.

He flips the Batarang closed and turns to run back to his alley before the bad guys come out and catch him. He thinks he’s home free, the car is disabled, and there’s no one out on the street to get shot at.

He did it!

Timmy gets one foot out to run, grinning below the mask and his heart pounding in his chest, happy that he actually helped.

...until a hand snatches his backpack and pulls him right off his feet, dangling him from an angry grip.

“Why you little!”

His heart slams against his rib cage, breath choking him for an important second.

Caught!

“Lemme go!” while he kicks his feet uselessly, throws his arms out, trying to get down, get away before Two-Face comes out of that bank.

“D’ ya have any idea what he’s gonna do ta ya when he sees this?” The angry adult yells in his face. The small boy gasps at the sour smell of the masked man’s breath, hands rough and bruising, shaking him hard, snapping his head back on his fragile neck. “He’s gonna make an example outta ya, kid.”

The mask on his face almost falls off with the shaking, and fear leaps into his mouth again, coppery for real because he’s bitten his tongue.

His legs are wobbly when the goon pretty much drops him back to the ground, shoves him around the car with a hand on the back of his neck, holding him there for the terrifying gangster about to come out of the bank they’ve robbed and see what’s done to their getaway car.

The sneer on the good half of the villain’s face is terrifying, but Timmy forces his legs to hold him up, even with the other thug’s hand on the back of his neck pushing him down.

“Looks like we got us a hero, boys. Another fucking mask.”

A masked goon to the gangster’s right hand, steps up, gun pointed at the sky. His eyes shift from Two-Face to the kid, a bag of money in his other hand.

“Looks like he’s just a kid, boss. They recruiting from kindergarten now?”

Timmy presses his lips together to keep from snapping back because he’s in first grade you jerk! Instead, he has to make them underestimate him, not make them mad enough to hurt him or use him as a hostage when Batman and Robin appear.

The sharp lapels on Two-Face’s suit are crisp and clean over the holster Tim can see underneath when the villain leans down to put them face-to-face, the distorted eye somehow still seeing him, staring him down, looking at him like he isn’t even wearing a mask.

“I’ve got to tell you, squirt, mask isn’t a good look for you. That is just going to get you in trouble.” A finger pokes into his chest to emphasize the point, and he can’t recoil from the touch because the other goon behind him grips the back of his neck harder in warning.

Even if his mouth dry, the little boy still sucks in a deep breath, still tries to be strong, keep everyone busy until the heroes get here without getting himself deeper into hot water. “Y-you’re stealing! And-and people need their money! They might lose their houses if you take it!”

The laugh is twisted and wrong, making his knees shake, and his instincts screaming at him to runrunrun!

But he can’t, the hand on the back of his neck is holding him in place, and he’s surrounded.

“Kid...you need to learn how the world really works,” and the villain straightens up, mouth twisting up in a grotesque half smile. A hand disappears in his pocket, comes out with–

–the coin.

Tim’s eyes are drawn to the metal slipping over Two-Face’s fingers, the movement hypnotic in the middle of a deserted Gotham street.

(Please, please, please hurry. Please hurry.)

But he’s not tossing the coin yet, so-so it could still be okay!

“You look around this city, and what do you see? All those criminals locked up? For what, a few weeks? And then they’re out, playing the same old game. Just like us,” and the coin pauses between two fingers. “And the regular people, just like you and your precious little family, are scurrying like cockroaches between bombs and muggings and toxic gas, trying to make it through another day.”

Two-Face is getting angrier and meaner, his snarling lip and shark-like smile, the coin balanced precariously between his fingers.

“And all of it? All of it is just about chance, kid.”

Timmy swallows when expert fingers nudge the coin flat on top of the thumb, and his stomach abruptly drops.

“It’s 50/50 all around. Whether the next bomb gets you, the next prison break, the next car crash, the next robbery. It’s all a matter of chance.”

The coin trembles in Timmy’s peripheral, and he’s holding on to the folded Batarang tucked into his sleeve so hard his hand is starting to hurt.

(He doesn’t want to use it. He doesn’t want to shove it in Two-Face’s knee to give himself enough time to run. He won’t have to use it because Batman and Robin are going to save him.)

But Two-Face is half smiling again, reaching in his jacket for the gun in his holster, ignoring the scream of sirens in the air. One of his henchmen utter a soft, desperate “boss?” that’s met with a quirked brow before the thug goes silent again.

“So, I’m going to give you a chance, kiddo, and I’m going to be real fair about it, see?” The half smile is anything but nice, is scary enough to make his knees weak again because he really doesn’t believe that.

“I’m going to flip this coin.”

And the scratched side glints in the sun between the gangster’s fingers.

“If it lands on heads, then I’m going to shoot you in the head, clean and quick. You won’t even feel it. But if it lands on tails, then I’m going to shoot you in the stomach. And that, kid, is gonna hurt real bad. You’re going to die slow and painful.”

The manic grin widens as Two-Face drops the bag of money and reaches into his two-tone jacket to pull the handgun out of the holster, the barrel long and shiny as it emerges.

Timmy’s eyes go wide when the barrel is levelled with his forehead, feels the sob trapped somewhere in chest, feels his hands shaking with the Batarang in his sleeve, feels his eyes get wet behind the mask.

“Good luck,” is from the thug still holding him.

But Timmy doesn’t hear it, can only hope he’s strong enough, fast enough to flip the Batarang out and stab Two-Face in the hand or thigh, can only hope he’s brave enough to save himself.

He can only hope Batman and Robin will get there in time.

His pulse beats in the back of his mouth when the resounding ting is the coin being flipped up in the air.  

They’re going to save the city. They’re going to save me.

Because he believes in them.

He believes.

Little Timmy Drake, clenches the Batarang, hiding behind his mask, squinches his eyes closed, bites down on his lip–

–and he believes.

It’s a breath, a gasp, a moment when the coin is knocked out of the air in mid-flip by a Batarang with a crazy arc and a whole lot of practice.

Timmy hears Two-Face yelling in rage that the coin was knocked off course, but all of it is drowned out as vigilantes leap down from the sky like avenging angels in a rare, daytime appearance.

The Batman lands it right next to the villain and thug holding a little boy in the mask while Robin unfailingly rolls behind the line of thugs and takes most of the out with sheer momentum.

The other two get taken out with a combination of punches and kicks, making Timmy’s mouth drop open in sheer awe.

The Batman doesn’t even look at the thug holding him. One second the Dark Knight lands it, the next his arm is just somehow extended and the man that was holding Timmy is suddenly laying on the ground against the getaway car with his eyes lolling in the back of his head.

The sudden lack of support makes little Timmy fall down on his butt, legs still quivery with fear, watching with wide eyes as the frightening vigilante raises a gauntleted forearm, the spikes on it gleaming dangerously.

“Causing trouble again, Harvey?” Darkly growled low, the form in the Batsuit just as imposing, just as terrifying in person as in some of his blurry pictures against the dark Gotham night.

Subtle but pointed, the vigilante puts himself in front of the little boy that has slumped to the ground, a flip of the cape hides him from sight, gives him a moment to shake, and make sure his mask is still in place.

The villain’s laugh is terrifying, in the same way he said shoot you in the head without even pausing.

“You know us, Bats. We like to stay front and center!”

He loses the banter while the other thugs go down and the fight between Batman and Two-Face starts with the gun knocked away in the first sweeping backhand. He doesn’t notice when Robin leaps up on the trunk of the getaway car because he’s trying to gasp in a shaky breaths, watching the Batman move on the offense, punches emphasized with meaty sounds as they land on the villain’s face.

Robin is in front of him so fast, grabbing him up in both arms like a baby, and sprinting away from the scene to duck them back in the alley to be away from the ensuing fight.

“Kid, kid,” shakes him because even with the tunic and boots, the mask and utility belt, he knows. “Ya hurt? Two-Face rough ya up?”

Robin is putting him down in the alley, quickly checking him for injuries, winces at the cuts on his palms from the broken glass and sharp metal on his overturned bus. Still in Timmy’s other hand is the folded Batarang, and Timmy doesn’t need to see the raised eyebrow obscured by the mask to know it’s there.

“I-I needed it. The Batarang. The tires– I...I couldn’t let them get away until you got here.” And now that the gun isn’t pointed at his head, his eyes get hot and wet, his lower lip trembling at the fear and adrenaline still coursing through him.

When Robin just blinks down at him, he expects the Batarang to get taken away and maybe a quick, stern lecture about stealing.

But Robin just shakes his head a little and a crooked smile cuts across his face, a low chuckle when he replies, “I might know something about that. All right, stay here. I’ll come getcha after he’s down fer the count. Looks like Batman needs Robin right about now,” and the Boy Wonder salutes him with two fingers (like a hero) and takes off out of the alley to rejoin the fight.

Once he feels like he can stand without falling over, little Timmy peeks from around the corner, his heart pounding as he watches the way they work together, the way Robin uses Batman’s back to propel him into giving Two-Face an amazingly effective punch! Right to the distorted side of his face!

And when Two-Face picks up the Tommy gun again to try for another shot, Robin is the one throwing a Batarang to knock the gun away, back-to-back with the Batman while smoke pellets hit the ground at the feet of the thugs trying to get back up.

Batman doesn’t waste a second, turning with Robin to face the gangster again and deliver a vicious uppercut with a follow-up punch to the solar plexus. At the same time, Robin jumps up, both feet knocking two thugs out colder than the pellets.

(Batman needs Robin…)

It’s so amazing to watch, his mouth dropping open in wonder as the Caped Crusaders move like water and wind, in perfect sync, ducking and dodging around one another like they’ve always worked together, like they’re a team, and it makes his chest feel tight, so tight, but not in a bad way when things are terrifying and there’s nowhere safe–

(except for Wayne Manor)

–when living in Gotham is always, always so dangerous. But watching them, biting down on his lip, he forgets about how much his hands hurt, how scared he’d been when Two-Face was going to shoot him. He gets to be relieved enough for his knees to wobble, for his eyes to get hot and spill over just a little.

The crime fighters effortlessly put Two-Face and his goons down on the ground just as the GCPD’s mobile unit hit the scene to surround the perimeter.

Little Timmy pulls the mask off, wiping at his wet eyes as Commissioner Gordon approaches the downed villain and victorious vigilantes first, flanked by his team who are already fanning out to start rounding up the bad guys.

Robin glances over, looking for him, and Timmy shrinks back a little when Robin goes still. The Boy Wonder straightens up and subtly tugs on the side of Batman’s cape.

The cowl turns, and then follows Robin’s line of sight to the little boy standing in the alley that had been in the middle of the fray, that could have been seriously hurt by Two-Face...

Batman doesn’t make even a tic but a gloved hand squeezes Robin’s wrist as he turns back to Gordon to finish the details, fast and efficient.

(Faster than he had before he’d seen Tim Drake in the mouth of the alley, realized their favorite neighbor had been facing down on of Gotham’s worst criminals. It’s their little Tim and no way can he explain to Jim, the police, or anyone else why Batman would be carrying a small boy with him to fly through Gotham. He’d need his daytime identity. Fast.)

Before Timmy can try to scramble back up the fire escape, two uniformed police officers stumble upon him and immediately start yelling for medics.

Uh-oh.

The bang is grapples firing and the Dynamic Duo taking to the rooftops, leaving Gotham’s finest to clean up the mess and latch on to the young boy in the alley, pulling him toward the emergency crews setting up just outside the perimeter.

(He’s feeling a little woozy, his legs only half-working, so maybe...maybe it’s a good idea to see the paramedics after all.)

And even with all the yelling and scrambling movement, Timmy is a little dazed, watching Batman and Robin take to the rooftops, his heart in his wet eyes.

The detectives that get him to an ambulance are nice, and so is the medic that looks at the scratches, some with glass that needs to come out.

The burn cream hurts, like really hurts, and now that Batman and Robin are gone, he can let himself flinch a little. When she asks, he tells her the bus number a few streets over and how he’s glad everyone made it out okay. He just happened to get lost when everyone scrambled from it before it, you know, blew up or something.

He knows she’s not going to ask too many questions when she smiles gently down at him and bandages his hands. So, instead of asking to call a parent or guardian, she can drop him off to the Fire and Rescue Squad, and maybe he can slip away to catch a ride home without anyone asking being the wiser–

–which fails pretty epically when a disheveled Bruce Wayne comes straight at him through the crowd, Jason right on his heels.

(Mr. Bruce’s waist is lumpy under his shirt. He must not have taken off the utility belt.)

“Tim!” Mr. Bruce pushes to one side of the gurney he’s sitting on, and Jay pushes to the other, a hand just suddenly on the wrist the EMT isn’t wrapping up. But it’s nice when the hand is heavy on his shoulder instead of the back of his neck, pulling him against a broad chest.

(He can almost feel the yellow oval against his cheek)

“Tim! Alfred said your bus was attacked! I’m so glad I found you–”

“We, B,” Jason reminds him idly, looking down at Timmy with the exact same smile–

(Really is my Robin, Timmy thinks now that he can relax a little, thinks it’s funny how Batman and Robin are going to save him again.)

“Of course, Jay, we found you!”

“It’s...it’s okay,” he says lamely, one hand already worrying at the hem of Mr. Bruce’s wrinkled jacket, relaxing in the strong hold, trying to hide the fact he’s tearing up because now his hand and arms hurt. “Everyone got out, and Mr. Mike is going to be okay and Two-Face is going to Arkham and–”

“What’s ‘bout ya, Timmers?” Jay interrupts, staring down the EMT winding a final bandage around Tim’s hand, “lookit! Ya got hurt, didn’t ya? B, we gotta get ‘im home, you feel me? Looks like our guy needs some cookies n’ milk n’ a movie ta calm ‘im down.”

“We absolutely will, Jay. Alfred will be so relieved.” And Mr. Bruce’s hand in his hair is making him so sleepy, the nails scratching gently along his scalp so nice. “On the way home, you can call Dick, let him know what happened and Tim is okay.”

That makes Timmy smile because Dick likes to cuddle him, and he won’t even mind if he’s laying on his hurt arm because Dick’s cuddles are the best.

“Mr. Wayne,” one of the EMTs begins hesitantly, “this boy–”

“Is our neighbor. He’s staying with us while his parents are out of the country.” Mr. Bruce doesn’t miss a beat, already sliding an arm under Timmy’s knees. “We’re responsible for him.”

“Okay, well, here’s some extra bandages for his hands. All of his vitals are good and he’s not exhibiting signs of shock or further distress. Keep an eye on him anyway, just in case.”

“We certainly will. Thank-you for taking care of him,” and Bruce doesn’t hesitate to lift, pull Timmy against a broad, powerful chest while he’s talking, letting the little boy rest limply against him. Jay snags his backpack where he’d stashed his mask and Batarang, wondering if both would be gone by the time they got to the Manor.

It’s a credit as to how awful Mr. Bruce is playing Brucie Wayne because he avoids the media instead of acting like he’s silly, another way of hiding the Batman away.

Jay paces beside them as they cut through a back alley to get out of the war zone caused by Two-Face’s impromptu bank visit.

With the gentle swaying and immeasurable strength holding him, Tim sinks further down into Mr. Bruce’s strength, not really hearing the low talk between them as they walk.

The Rolls is there between one blink and the next, Mr. Alfred ruffling his hair as he opens the back door.

“He got a little banged up in the scuffle today, Alfred. I think he’s more than deserved dessert.”

“You say that based merely for injuries sake, Master Bruce. I shall be the judge after we see how Master Timothy did on his spelling homework.”

“Ssorry, Mr. Alfred,” the little boy slurs, eyes-half mast, “the bus was late.”

Jay laughs a little and lays a warm palm on Timmy’s forehead, “Yeah, yeah. S’okay, Timmers. Long as yer in one piece, I’d say it’s been a good day.”

“Not mad?” But his eyes are fluttering closed already, and his little chest lifts in a sigh.

“At you, dear boy? Never,” and Mr. Alfred opens the back door with a small smile and fond eyes. Mr. Bruce is easy when he chuckles low and ducks down into the Rolls with Tim on his lap and Jay nudged up against his side.

The car moves slowly through the wrecked part of the city until they’re on the highway, heading to Wayne Manor, and the motion of the car lulls him closer and closer to sleep. His hands resting palm up on his legs, and Mr. Bruce a mass of strength around him.

“S’all good,Timmy,” and even though he’s starting to drift, he still hears Jay mutter, “don’t cha take on anymore baddies. Gonna gimmie a heart attack, you feel me?”

B’s voice is soft when he murmurs back, “what was he doing there?”

“Takin’ out Harv’s tires if ya can believe it.”

“Somehow, I’m not really surprised.” Is less Mr. Bruce and more Batman.

“Ya know, B. It’s been a year. Maybe it’s time ta–”

“No. I mean, not yet, Jay. The longer he doesn’t know, the easier it will be to keep him safe.”

“Pfft. Whatevah ya say, Boss. Eventually, I ain’t gonna fit in the shorts no more. Then who’s gonna watch yer ass?”

“That’s not happening anytime soon. For the moment, we try to keep him away from escaped members of the Rogue Gallery.”

“I believe that is the most sound plan, Master Bruce.”

“Thank-you, Alfred. Maybe we can order some pizza for him tonight. What do you think?”

“Aw, c’mon, Alf! We gotta injured bird here.”

“Well. As much as I detest such ready-made slop, I supposed I shall allow it this time. As our young charge certainly deserves a reward for aiding Batman and Robin.”

The soft shifting is Mr. Bruce laughing and as he drifts off, Timmy smiles to himself again.

He can already smell the pizza.

[voyager-into-the-unknown]

This is Part 4 of my Plance fic series. You can read Part 3 here:

https://toocool2btrue.tumblr.com/post/188737473073/yes-of-course-you-should-continue-writing-this

Breakfast with Hunk

Lance woke up on Saturday morning hugging his pillow. He had dreamed of Pidge that night—dancing with her, kissing her, embracing her, and finally, falling asleep with her in his arms. He slid the pillow back beneath his head and then rubbed his eyes. Early morning light was just visible through his blinds, and he could hear the sound of the shower running. Hunk was up.

He checked his phone, and sadly, there were no new messages. He decided to text Pidge. He felt a little nervous about contacting her so early in the morning, but didn’t girls like it when the guy got in touch with them again, right after a date? He didn’t want to seem desperate, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

Lance: Good morning, pretty lady. Did you sleep well?

There was no reply. Maybe she was still asleep. Or maybe she was in the shower. No, he shouldn’t think about that. Well, just because he told himself not to think about that, he thought about it.

Rather than let his mind wander into some rather naughty places, he got up. The shower was separated from the sink and commode, so he could relieve himself, wash his hands, brush his teeth, wash his face, and shave without disturbing Hunk. He then went back to his room, knowing that Hunk would be done with his shower soon enough. His phone pinged. Nervously, he picked it up. It was Pidge!

Pidge: Good morning, Loverboy. 😉 I slept very well, indeed. Thanks for asking.

Loverboy? Lance blushed, remembering all of the times that they kissed yesterday. He was spending the day with her and her parents, but surely he could get her alone at some point and steal a few more kisses, right? He wanted to kiss her again right now.

Lance: I had the best night’s sleep ever. All of my dreams were about you, Pidgey.

Pidge: 😊 Pidgey? That’s cute. You must have had some really great dreams then, if you dreamed about me....I dreamed about you, too.

Lance: Oh, really? ✨😎✨Tell me more.

Pidge: No. That’s private. Of course, yesterday’s reality was like a dream come true.

Lance: Yes. It was the best day ever! I can’t wait to see you again.

Pidge: 😊 I am looking forward to seeing you, too.

Lance: You know that I love you, right? 💙💚

Pidge: I love you, too. 💚💙 I have loved you since arriving at the Garrison.

Lance: You mean, when we returned from space?

Pidge: No, since before we ever left. Before we were Paladins.

Lance: OMG! Pidge!!! 🥰 I had no idea. I am so sorry I didn’t notice. I mean, we were friends even back then, but...

Pidge: I was disguised as a boy. I didn’t want you to notice.

Lance: But after we became Paladins and you revealed that you are a girl, why did you keep your feelings a secret?

There was a long pause, and then she answered him.

Pidge: Allura. Nyma. Plaxum. And so many other girls. I didn’t think I had a chance with you. 😢

Lance: I am so sorry, Pidge. I was such an idiot. You mean so much more to me than any of those other girls, even Allura. I love you.

Pidge: I know.

Lance: Did you just “Han Solo” me?

Pidge: 😂 Yup.

Lance: I have been waiting for Hunk to get out of the bathroom so I can take a shower. I think he’s getting out now...

“Morning, Lance. Who are you texting this early? Is it your girlfriend?”

“Ugh, go put some clothes on, man. It’s too early in the morning to see that. My eyes!”

“I am decently covered by this towel. Tell Pidge I said hello.”

Lance: Hunk says hello. I just told him to put some clothes on.

Pidge: 😂 Tell him I said hello, too. He’s going to ask a million questions about us, but don’t tell him everything.

Lance: You know how nosy our best friend is. Anyway, no worries. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. 😉

Pidge: Thanks, Loverboy. Now go take your shower. We can talk later. ily. 😘

Lance: ily2. 😘

“Pidge says hello too. And also says that she loves me!” Lance called to Hunk through the open door.

“Ha! I knew it! She’s had a crush on you since forever.”

“We can talk about that later. I’m gonna hit the shower.”

“Well, in the meantime, I am going to make us a breakfast fit for kings, so don’t take all day in there.”

Lance went to his bureau, and selected clean socks and underwear. Then he went to his closet, choosing a light blue button down shirt, grey trousers, and a darker blue sweater. She would like these colors on him, he thought. They would bring out the color of his eyes.

Lance went into the bathroom and stripped off his pajamas, then turned the hot water on. Naked, he climbed into the stall and let the spray of hot water relax him. He lathered up with his favorite body wash and sang to himself a song he had been working on for the past week, even before he asked Pidge to go the ball with him. It was a love song, and he had the guitar chords and the melody that he wanted. It was the lyrics that needed work. Maybe she could help him with that. Right then, it occurred to him that girls really loved sappy romantic stuff like that. He should definitely bring his guitar over to the Holts, along with dessert, which he hadn’t actually thought much about yet.

When he was done showering, Lance dried off, combed his hair, and put on some extra strength deodorant and a bit of his favorite cologne. He wanted to smell nice for her, especially since he intended to spend the afternoon dancing with her in her parents living room. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he left the bathroom and went back to his room to get dressed.

He shut the door and dropped his towel. He put on his shorts first, having selected a pair of white boxer briefs for support and freedom of movement that were nearly as comfortable as Paladin underwear, and then a white T-shirt made of a stretchy, absorbent material, which, like his shorts, was meant to wick perspiration from his body. (He hoped he didn’t sweat too much. He didn’t want to reek of nervous perspiration around Pidge.) The socks were chosen to coordinate with dress shoes, rather than his usual sneakers or uniform boots. Next, he buttoned up the light blue dress shirt, which was a bit more formal than the long sleeved T-shirts he usually wore. Grey trousers were next, and a belt, followed by the darker blue sweater. Lastly, his shoes, which were formal, but comfortable, and perfect for dancing. He put his wallet and his phone in his pockets.

“You about done in there, Loverboy? Admiring yourself in the mirror, right now, am I right?”

“No!” Lance said unconvincingly. In truth, he had been admiring his reflection and wondering if Pidge would like his attire. “Breakfast smells great. I’ll be there in a second.”

Hunk had indeed made a breakfast fit for kings: ham and cheese omelettes, crispy bacon, hot buttery biscuits, and hash browns with cold milk and hot coffee. Everything looked and smelled delicious.

“What did I ever do to deserve all of this? Hunk, you’re the best!”

“I know. Now give me details.”

Lance sat down to eat breakfast with Hunk and told him briefly about what had happened between himself and Pidge yesterday, saying nothing too personal, just a general summary of their day. He told him how nervous he was when he asked her out, and how she kissed him in the hydroponics garden. He told him about their trip to the mall and what they purchased there. “We even ate at Vrepit Sal’s! The food was great, but not as great as this breakfast, made by the master chef himself.”

“Aw, Thanks, man.” Hunk ate another forkful of omelette. “So what happened when you got back home? Did you kiss her goodnight?”

“Of course! But she asked me to keep our private stuff private.”

“It was pretty hot, though, wasn’t it?”

Lance’s face was all the answer Hunk needed. He was blushing like a desert sunset and grinning shyly. “Let’s just say for a girl who has never had a boyfriend before, she’s really good at kissing. I am not going to give a detailed description, just a statement of fact: Pidge is a genius in everything that she does.” Lance sighed, and grinned goofily.

Hunk laughed at him. “Well, I hope that you know how happy I am for both of you. Just be careful with her heart, Lance.” He sipped his coffee.

Lance put his fork down. “What do you mean? I just told her that I love her, like, three times just this morning!”

“She’s had a crush on you since she was fifteen. She’s watched you flirt with every attractive girl that has crossed your path since then. She’s had to endure your unrequited love for Allura, and she’s had to watch you ogle any humanoid female with curves in the right places. Dude, she’s cried herself to sleep over you a thousand times. You can’t do stuff like that anymore.”

Lance became very quiet, his expression serious. He was hurt by the truth of Hunk’s words, and angry at himself for being so blind and self-centered for so long. “I know,” he said softly. “I won’t. There were quite a few attractive single ladies around the base dropping hints that if I needed a date to the Garrison Ball, they were interested. I didn’t even consider asking any of them. All I could think of was how to summon up enough courage to ask Pidge to go with me. And at the mall there were lots of cute girls checking me out. I used to be flattered by stuff like that, but now I just ignore them. Pidge is the only girl for me, Hunk.”

“I’m glad to hear that, buddy.” Hunk looked apologetic. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings just now.”

“Don’t be. It’s the truth, and I needed to hear it.” Lance began to enjoy his meal again. They talked about the new engineering project Hunk was working on, and Lance’s work with the new pilots, Paladin training, and the rest of the team. Keith wanted everyone on the Paladins’ training deck at oh-eight-hundred on Monday morning.

“He thinks we’re getting out of shape,” said Hunk.

“Well, I will be if you keep feeding me like this. Not that I’m complaining. This is the best breakfast I have had in ages, Hunk. Thank you.”

Hunk grinned. “You’re welcome, but you know that I had an ulterior motive.”

“Of course. You just wanted to hear about my love life.”

“Ew! No, not really. I just wanted you to know that Pidge is my best friend, too, Lance. She told me that she was bullied all through school for being so smart. The boys were the worst—they called her names and stole her stuff. None of the girls would talk to her either. She was a very lonely kid whose only friend was her older brother, mainly because because Matt was the only one smart enough to really understand and appreciate her, besides her parents. When he and Sam disappeared, she was devastated.”

“I know. She was desperate enough to hack into the Garrison computer network to find out what happened to them. Iverson banned her from the Garrison for life. That’s why she cut off her hair and pretended to be a boy named Pidge Gunderson.”

“And then she was assigned to our cadet training group. We became the first real friends she’s ever had outside of the Holt family. Lance, we are two of the first guys she’s ever been able to trust. Be gentle with her. No matter how much you want her, the female should be the one to determine how far things go and how fast, not the male. And if she wants to wait—“

“I already intend to wait for her, Hunk. He family is very conservative and very protective of her, especially Sam. She’s the girl I want to marry. I want to wait for her. I want her family to like me, too.”

“Well, from what you told me of your little romantic adventures yesterday, Colleen already likes you.”

“Yeah. It’s Sam that I worry about. He’s brilliant, and kind of intimidating.”

“Intimidating? Sam?” Hunk smiled. “He’s an old softie.”

“That’s because he likes you, Hunk. You’re a genius. I’m not, and I can’t help wondering if Sam thinks that I am just not smart enough for his daughter. He probably wonders what she sees in me.”

“We all wonder about that, dude.”

“Thanks,” Lance said sarcastically. “That does wonders for my anxiety.”

“I was just joking! Seriously, you have got to go in with an action plan. Play to your strengths. Impress them with your talents.”

“Sarcasm, puns, and general goofiness?”

“Well, your sense of humor is one. Um, you have good manners, and there’s your skills as a Paladin...”

“I don’t think sharpshooting and flying are going to be enough.”

“You were singing in the shower again this morning. You have a great voice, Lance. Maybe you should bring your guitar and sing for them.”

“I was actually just thinking about that just now. I’ve been working on a new song lately, but I am having a bit of trouble with the lyrics. I was thinking that maybe Pidge could help me with that.”

“Is it a love song?”

“Of course. And it’s about her, well, both of us really.”

“That’s brilliant! You should definitely sing it for her.”

“Do you think that will be enough?”

Hunk got up from the table. “Well, if it isn’t, there’s this secret weapon.” He held up a white paper bag that was on the counter.

“Are those—?”

“Peanut butter cookies, baked especially for her. They are so good, she will definitely want to marry you, whether her father likes you or not.”

Lance laughed. “Hunk, you are the best!”

They cleared the table and Lance insisted on cleaning the kitchen, since Hunk had done all the cooking. Lance sang to himself while he worked, and Hunk watched from a distance, smiling at his friend’s happiness.

[hookedontaronfics]

First Contact series - Part 5

Title: First Contact - Part 5 Read the previous installments here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Some mild cursing, brief sexual mention A/N: Jess and Taron have a perfect summer day together, but will her insecurities get in the way? I hope you love reading the fifth installment of the First Contact series as much I have loved writing it. The series will eventually involve more mature themes as it develops, so be warned! Enjoy! x

The day had dawned hot and steamy, and transitioned full on into boiling by the time my boss cut work short for everyone. Our office didn’t have air conditioning, and everyone was starting to feel ill from the sticky air in our high rise. No amount of fans could seem to relieve it, and most of the men had loosed their ties and collars. I could feel the heat from the baked concrete of the sidewalk burning through the soles of my shoes as I walked quickly toward the tube station, hoping there would be some relief underground.

The cafe tables on the sidewalks that were usually so full for lunch hour were completely empty, and the few people scurrying about were sticking to the shadows cast by shop awnings. I’d felt temperatures like this in my hometown in America almost every summer, but air conditioning was everywhere across the pond. The heat felt much different when you couldn’t get away from it.

I texted my flatmates to see how they were surviving the heat. Jules complained it was brutal and then said she and Mary were just planning on heading to Hampstead Heath; there really was no other way to deal then to wade neck-up into the bathing pool.

<Oh God, that sounds perfect. We closed shop early and I’m heading back. Wait for me!> I quickly texted back. I caught the train and was soon back at the flat. My friends were already clad in bikinis under their summer clothes, waiting impatiently on me to arrive. Even Tim looked uncomfortable in the stuffy flat, and I felt bad for him.

I quickly changed into the floral high-waisted bikini my friends had convinced me to buy. I was a bit self-conscious about my love handles and stomach, but they swore up and down it highlighted my curves in all the right places. Still, next to my willowy friends, I sometimes felt like a bit of a lard. But today was too hot to care about how I looked, so I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee over the swimsuit and stuffed the essentials like sunscreen and a hat into my beach bag.

“Alright?” I said, as Jules gave me a once-over and tsk’d slightly. She walked over to me and grabbed the hem and material of my baggy shirt, quickly doing a knot in it and tucking it under so it was not only a lot more form fitting, but also showed my midriff slightly.

“Now we’re ready,” she smiled, waving her finger in my face when I tried to protest. “You’ve got a figure all the guys would die to be with.”

“Jules!” I groaned slightly. 

“Oh we know,” Mary said with a smirk. “There’s only one person you want to be with right now, and so far that hasn’t happened yet. You just need to get laid!” she added with a squeal.

“We are not having this conversation right now!” I yelled, yanking open the door as my roommates just cackled and followed along. 

As we walked back toward the tube entrance, my mind shifted to Taron, whom I hadn’t seen for the past week or so since I’d been sick. We’d been texting most days, and even tried to make plans, but he’d had to cancel and apologized profusely for not being available to see me. I understood being a busy adult; I’d had my own share of things to get done. I found that I missed him, though, and I was surprised by the yearning to see him smile at me again.

Almost as if my thoughts had summoned him, my phone pinged with a text. <I think I’m melting. It’s bloody hot. Hope you’re getting on okay.>

<Just heading to Hampstead now with the girls. Our flat was suffocating.>

<Likely the only thing to do today> he responded.

In some strange dash of courage, I decided to suggest he join us. <Bring your mates> I added hopefully. <It’ll be fun.>

“Who are you texting?” Mary asked, making me jump slightly. I hadn’t realized I’d totally zoned out of the conversation with my friends.

“Just Taron,” I replied, my heart stupidly starting to race as I waited for his response.

“So when’s he going to take you out again?” Jules asked, poking me in the side. “Or is he one of those slow-burn types?”

“He’s busy! He’s got plenty more important things to deal with then me,” I defended. “Besides, I’m sure if it got out that he was dating a nobody the internet would shit itself. He’s probably been coached on this a great deal.”

“You’re not a nobody, Jess,” Mary said, sympathetically. “You’re really brilliant and if he doesn’t see that then he’s blind.” 

“Yeah, fuck what the internet thinks,” Jules added, an older lady huffing disprovingly at the language. “You’re an absolute catch.” I truly had the best roommates a girl could ask for.

Just then, my phone screen lit up again with Taron’s response. <I’ve got something later today but I don’t see why I can’t drop by for a bit. See you soon.> The thrill that ran through me was undeniable.

We grabbed another train and no one seemed remotely bothered by our decided lack of clothing, as everyone was too hot to care. We rumbled our way to Hampstead, knowing it would be crazy busy with everyone else having the same idea. There were only a couple of sparse clouds in the sky as we paid our fare, and I suggested we go to the mixed pool this time instead of the ladies only. My friends both gave me looks, and I had to admit that Taron was supposed to be bringing a few friends along to join us.

“Oh my god, when were you going to tell us!” Jules squealed at me.

“I don’t know! I didn’t want you both to give me shit!” I laughed, as Mary joined in on the excited squealing.

“You’re going to see Taron shirtless ... in person,” Jules said wickedly. “Maybe he’ll even ask you to rub sunscreen on his back, eh?” she said, digging her elbow into my side.

“Ow!” I laughed, grabbing my side and being reminded of how not-skinny I was. “Or he’ll take one look at me in my suit and run screaming the other way.”

“Oh please,” Jules said, as Mary sighed. “You’re totally hot.”

“Yeah, I am hot, sweltering really, and it’s about time we got in this bloody pool,” I laughed, trying to ignore my insecurities about my body as we found a place to dump our stuff, tore off our outer clothes, and ran straight into the water, probably amusing everyone around us as we shrieked about how cold it was.

“That’s one way to cool off,” Mary laughed, her teeth chattering a bit.

“You’ll get used to it soon enough,” Jules grinned as we bobbed there in the water like everyone else. Just a bunch of heads floating about, I giggled at the stupidity of that thought. We chatted for a bit and grew accustomed to the water, and I tried not to stare at the shoreline too much in anticipation. I didn’t exactly want to come across as desperate. We eventually clambered out of the water to try and soak up some sun, spraying on sunscreen and laying out on our towels.

I was just about to think Taron would stand us up when I heard his laugh floating across the grounds to us. I sat up and instantly wrapped my towel around myself. “Hey hey hey ladies!” he grinned, holding out his arms wide as he strolled up, a cap pulled low and his sunnies giving him a bit of a chance to not be immediately recognized. He had two friends with him who were both quite fit themselves, but I only had eyes for Taron as the three of them settled in on the ground with us. Jules and Mary were quite beside themselves. “Well look at that, we match up. These are my mates, Jack and Gavin,” he said with a grin.

We introduced ourselves as well, though I was pretty sure somewhere in a hazy memory of the karaoke bar we’d all met Jack before, but Gavin was new, and Jules had instantly started chatting him up.

“I’m glad you made it,” I smiled at Taron, admiring him just a bit in the tanktop and swim shorts he was wearing. Boy if I didn’t just burn up right then and there, I thought.

“I’m glad I did too,” he grinned back. “I’ve been missing you.”

“You have?” I asked, biting my lip a bit shyly.

“Of course. It’s not been my choice to be so busy, but I’ll figure this out.”

“Yeah?” I couldn’t help but smile. “What’s this thing you’ve got going on later?”

“Oh! Yeah that. Just some old mates from school invited me out to Streatham Common for a bonfire night,” he grinned.

“A bit hot for that, isn’t it?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Perhaps, but it’s the best place to see the stars in the middle of London. Would you like to see it for yourself?” he asked cutely. “That is, of course, if you haven’t got plans already.”

“No, no plans. I’d love too,” I grinned back.

“Good, now that that’s settled, shall we get out in that water before we all melt?” he asked, standing up and pulling his tanktop off. I felt my breath catch in my chest, and I was glad my shades were dark because oh, was I staring. He was a bit sweaty and the way it glistened on his chest gave me thoughts I should not have been thinking.

“Come on then,” he said to me, offering his hand as Jules, Mary, Gavin and Jack had already headed for the water. He helped me stand up, but I was still clutching the towel around me with one hand and there was a hint of understanding in Taron’s eyes.

“You needn’t be shy around me. You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, reaching over and gently taking the edges of the towel from me and pushing it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. “That’s better,” he said, looking me over and smiling sweetly. “Alright?” he asked me, and I nodded. He took my hand and we made our way to the water, finally joining up with our friends.

We talked and laughed a bit, and with the rest of my body under the water, where no one had to see it, I could forget about my insecurity there. That is, of course, until Taron suggested we play chicken fight. Jules was instantly for it, Mary seemed confused as to what that meant, and I wanted to sink to the bottom of the pool. There was no way I was getting up on Taron’s shoulders for the world to see.

“Come on, love, it’s fine!” Taron grinned at me, excited about his fantastic idea.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said under my breath while Jack explained the basic premise to Mary.

“That’s nonsense. Hurt me?” Taron laughed, taking a deep breath of air and ducking under the surface. I nearly fell over when I felt his hands on my legs, pushing them apart enough to get his head between them and standing up, boosting me up out of the water as I shrieked loudly. I clutched at his head to keep from falling over as he just laughed his ass off. “Not so bad, is it?” he smirked, holding onto my legs as I tried to not hyperventilate.

“Holy fuck, Taron, warn a girl next time,” I said, Jules already up on Gavin’s shoulders too. Mary was struggling a bit to get on Jack’s, making everyone laugh, but finally she was up too.

“Let the games commence!” Taron grinned, as Jules and I were the first two to face off. We were quite evenly matched, and it took a fair bit of wrestling, but eventually I prevailed, knocking a shrieking Jules over into the water.

“Yes! We did it!” I squealed happily to Taron.

“Yeaah!” he said, patting my thigh happily and making me feel something strange in my chest as I realized that his fingers were against my bare skin.

Next it was Mary and I, and she royally kicked my butt, managing to push both me and Taron over backward into the water, both of us coming back up for air, sputtering and laughing.

Taron pulled me in close to him, making sure I could breathe and running his fingers along the exposed skin of my waist under the water. “T...Taron?” I stuttered slightly.

“Hmmm?” he said, grinning at me, the sunlight bouncing off the water and making his hazel eyes sparkle.

“Your eyes look rather blue at the moment,” I smiled, running my hands through his wet curls. “I always thought that color-changing eyes were the prettiest. I’ve just got boring brown ones.”

“Boring? Have you gone mad?” he asked, his gaze holding my own. “You just haven’t seen them the way I have. When the sun shines down on them, they turn straight to amber. And there are these little gold flecks that always make them look like they’re dancing.” No one had ever said anything so lovely to me in my life, and I quite forgot how to speak.

“Rematch!” Jules yelled, interrupting our moment, which was fine because I had no idea how much longer we were going to stand there staring at each other if she hadn’t. We even got a few other people involved in the game until we had all worn ourselves out, returning to our towels and letting the sun bake us dry again. The boys had brought snacks and even a Bluetooth speaker to play some tunes, and we spent an incredibly enjoyable afternoon together.

Eventually we decided to head on home, the sun making us all feel a bit knackered, but before we parted ways Taron grabbed my hand in his and placed a sweet kiss on the back of it. “Be ready at 8, yeah?” he smiled, and I nodded, feeling giddy inside.

We made it back to our flat, where Jules and Mary both decided to take naps. I felt the need to freshen up so I ran the water in the bath, still mulling over the image of Taron in my mind, the sun on his shoulders and happiness in his eyes. I slipped beneath the surface of the bath, sighing as the warmth enveloped me. I closed my eyes and could still see him smiling at me, focusing on the muscles of his bare chest that I had wanted to run my hands over so badly, the way his wet swim shorts had clung to his thighs.

“Shit,” I breathed, feeling turned on and letting my hand drift down between my legs, gasping slightly as I imagined what it might feel like if it were Taron’s fingers. I rubbed myself a bit, my breathing coming in short gasps, trying not to moan in case Mary or Jules overheard me. But it was no use; I’d not been able to get off in quite a while. I had no idea what was wrong with me.

“Damnit,” I said, splashing water onto the floor in my frustration as I knocked the back of my head against the edge of the tub. I sighed and sat there for a moment, tearing up slightly and then quickly wiping them away. “Right, get over it,” I told myself. I quickly finished bathing and focused on getting myself ready, which didn’t consist of much. I figured I didn’t need to be made up for a bonfire.

Once Jules and Mary were up from their naps, we ordered some takeout on delivery and sat eating and chatting in front of the telly. Taron arrived promptly and I waved goodbye to the girls. I wasn’t exactly sure who we’d be hanging out with, so Taron filled me in as he drove us out to the nature preserve. It was still warm out, so I’d just dressed in shorts, a tee and sneaks. Taron parked us and we made the bit of a hike toward the woods, Taron holding my hand the whole way there.

He was warmly greeted by his friends once we arrived, and cutely introduced me to everyone. They were all so sweet and welcoming to me, and we were both handed beers. We took a seat on a log, but it was still too warm to have lit the fire. Everyone was hoping that it would cool off once the sun went down. We laughed and talked and drank, and Taron kept his arm draped around my shoulders. It felt amazing to be included in this way, and I started thinking that maybe we really were “together.” But he’d never actually said it out loud, and one thing still worried my mind.

The temperature cooled off as the sun sank toward the horizon, deepening the shadows. After the fire was lit, and most of Taron’s friends were too, Taron grinned over at me and cutely flicked the tip of my nose with this finger. “I told you I’d show you the stars. Come on,” he said with a wink, grabbing two fresh beers and taking my hand again. 

“Where are we going?” I laughed, following along dutifully. “Won’t they miss us?”

“Trust me, you won’t want to go missing in these woods, it’d likely be til Sunday before anyone knows you’re gone,” he smirked.

We trekked through the trees a bit on a well-worn path, giggling when we stumbled over roots until we’d gotten to a small clearing. In the middle was a pickup truck, older but not rusted out. It looked like someone had been taking care of it, though how it’d ended up in the middle of the trees was beyond me. Taron pulled back the cover and then let down the tailgate, helping me climb up. I was shocked at what I found; the bed of the truck had been completely covered with cushions and blankets and pillows. It was rather soft and I felt like I was sinking into it as Taron clambered in after me.

I grinned as he settled in next to me, and we both leaned back and stared up at the twilight sky. We were quiet for a few minutes as I watched the stars slowly blink into existence, one by one. “This is really gorgeous,” I whispered, feeling Taron’s fingers playing at the hem of my shirt. All the beer I’d drunk was making me feel rather heady, and when his fingers connected with my skin, I could barely breathe. “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, before taking a swig of his beer, almost as if he was trying to gather his courage.

I wanted him to kiss me so badly, but I was also afraid for it. What if, from that single kiss, he could detect my entire history? What if he could taste the brokenness on my tongue?

He turned over onto his side slightly, and I did the same. We were so close in the darkness, sharing the same air, and I could feel the tension vibrating between us. “Taron,” I breathed his name, as we slowly drifted closer, our noses touching and then finally our lips. That first kiss was so gentle, but the power of it blew me away. It wasn’t demanding, or selfish, or greedy, or any of the other things I knew a kiss to be. “Jessica,” he said against my lips, his arm sliding around my back and drawing me in for more.

When we broke apart I was breathless, speechless, unable to form a single thought, and I imagined Taron felt the same. There was nothing of the world but this singular moment, Taron and me, the sounds of the woods surrounding us.

“I...uh…” Taron laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “That was good, right?” he asked.

“Just shut up,” I laughed, burying my face against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and we laid like that for a space. I was warm and fuzzy inside and everything felt perfect - until I opened my big mouth.

“T, can I ask you a question?” I said against his chest, and he hummed slightly.

“Yeah, anything,” he replied, running his fingers through my hair.

“You don’t already have a girlfriend, do you?” I asked, his fingers going still. He didn’t say anything at first, and I wondered if he’d even heard me, but then he sat up, pushing me off him.

“Why would you say something like that to me?” he asked, the darkness masking the pain in his eyes. “Why would you insinuate I was being unfaithful to someone else? I’d never do that, Jess!” he said, anger lacing through the hurt in his voice.

“What? That’s not… what I meant. I just didn’t know!” I tried to explain, but nothing seemed to be coming out right.

“Do you bloody think I’m an animal? I wouldn’t have been pursuing you if I had a girlfriend, for Chrissake,” he said. “All of this wasn’t just to get into your pants. You’re not just a good fuck for me, you know!” he said, grabbing his half-empty beer bottle and lobbing it angrily into the woods. I heard it smash somewhere against a tree. “Fuck,” he said. “You know what, find your own way home,” he said, hopping out of the truck and fleeing the way we’d come.

I sat there in stunned silence, not even sure what the hell had just happened. “Taron?” I asked, and nothing but silence answered back. I jumped down to the ground, pushing the tailgate and cover back into place before using my phone’s flashlight to make it back down the path. I could see the glow of the bonfire through the trees; we hadn’t been that far away, so I wasn’t feeling scared that I was lost. But I was hurt, and confused. It’d been an honest question and I didn’t understand Taron’s flash of anger. In my haste to return, I tripped over something and crashed to the ground, scraping the palms of my hands and my knees, but I barely noticed.

I pushed myself back up to my feet and retrieved my phone before finally making it back to the circle. I frantically tried to find Taron, but was told he had already left. I tried not to cry then, feeling the sense of abandonment sweep through me. I hated that I felt that way; he didn’t owe me anything, after all. I was just a fan, and he the famous actor. He could go back to his life like none of this had ever happened, but I felt irreparably changed somehow.

I managed to bum a ride from one of his friends, thankful they weren’t much for chatting. I’m not sure I could have kept it together well enough to pretend my night hadn’t gone totally to shit. The flat was completely dark when we arrived, and I was thankful Jules and Mary were already in bed. “Cheers,” I said to the driver before jogging up the walk and letting myself in. I headed straight for the bathroom and shut myself inside, my hands shaking as I tried to doctor my bloodied palms and knees. I left my dirty smoke-scented clothes on the bathroom floor and crawled into bed in my unders. I hugged my pillow to myself tightly and finally allowed myself to cry. I checked my phone again; Taron hadn’t texted. I wanted to let him know I’d gotten home safely, but I didn’t think he’d care.

I eventually cried myself out, and felt Tim jump up on my bed. He settled down in the crook of my legs and purred. “At least you still like me. No one else gives a toss,” I sniffed, feeling sorry for myself. I set my phone on the nightstand and sighed deeply. My chest hurt, my palms were stinging, and everything felt out of place. The only thing to do for it was sleep, so I left myself crash, afraid of the hard truths I was going to have to face in the morning.

Can Jess mend her relationship with Taron in time? Find out in Part 6.

[smol-and-grumpy]

EUPHORIA - Chapter 18

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: NSFW, flangst

WC: 4626

A/N: This chapter fills my ‘mutual masturbation’ square for @spnkinkbingo​​​​​Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ <3

This series is more than two weeks ahead on patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N wakes before her alarm goes off. Her hand finds her phone on the nightstand. She switches off the alarm, because she actually hates the sound of its ring. It’s penetrating and shrill, but she needs that to be able to get up at all.

Her eyes widen when she feels movement next to her in bed and she holds in her breathing for a moment. Her mind races as she tries to remember and piece the events of last night together.

She blinks a couple of times before she turns around, and breathes a sigh of relief when she notices that it’s Dean next to her. His face is buried in the pillow, mouth slightly parted. She smiles when she sees him, how can she not? She’s stunned that he stayed the whole night. Is actually really surprised he stayed at all after he drove her back home. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she watches him sleep. Watch the creases around his eyes. They run deep when he smiles and it’s actually really frustrating that they make him more attractive. His face is sprayed with freckles. Some are bigger, some smaller. She tries to memorize them. Back at school, when he would look at her and turn his head right so that the sunlight would catch his face, they would stand out more and he’d look so goddamn pretty. And that, she thinks, is not fair. 

She remembers falling asleep in his arms. Remembers him whispering something to her. Something about keeping... something , she doesn’t really know because she was too far gone already. 

Dean stirs and she’s holding her breath. How embarrassing would it be if he woke up and she would be the first thing he saw? Like, she’s not really easy on the eye in the mornings, she knows that. And also, he would notice that she’s probably been watching him as he slept and nobody likes to be watched while they’re sleeping. 

Gently, she pushes herself out of the bed and up into a standing position. She has to squint her eyes a little because yeah, she feels sore. Especially around her arms, thighs and between her legs. 

The blood rises to her face when she thinks about yesterday. Thinks about how Dean fucked her with a butt plug inside of her ass. How she felt so fucking full and yet still, she wanted more. Wanted it harder, wanted it faster. She’s getting light headed just thinking about it and her pussy tingles, it gets wetter and she knows that it’s definitely not only his cum that’s wetting her panties right now. 

It’s weird, because she’s never been this sexual and needy before. And god, if she wouldn’t have to be at work in the next hour, she would wake Dean up and get on his dick again. That’s bad, isn’t it? She should definitely learn to control herself better. 

Carefully she walks out into her bathroom and takes a warm shower that should ease the tense out of her body. She takes her time brushing her teeth and making up her face a little before she walks out on her tip toes, trying to get dressed without waking Dean up. 

It’s not even 7.30am yet and she knows that usually, he won’t be up until noon. So, instead of waking him up, she prepares a key for him and tapes it to the door on the inside with a note that says that he has to lock up when he leaves. She doesn’t really know his schedule, they’re not really anything yet and she doesn't really keep track of what he’s doing. Burned once, twice shy , or what’s that saying again? Either way, she doesn’t want for anyone to keep close track of her like Cole did and she has learned that she should treat people like she wants to be treated in return.

On her way to work she types a message for Dean.

  Y/N: I didn’t want to wake you up because you looked so peaceful in your sleep. The key is taped to the door. Please lock the door when you leave.

Dean wakes to his phone vibrating on the nightstand. In his daze, he reaches out for it but his hand meets an empty mattress. He cranes his neck, blinks before looking around. He’s not in his loft and not on his usual side of the bed, hence the reaching out for a phantom nightstand that’s not fucking there. 

He takes a moment to nuzzle his face back into the pillow, smells her skin that lingers there, and he’s breathing in her scent, filling his lungs. As if it’s keeping him alive. Maybe it is, he doesn’t really know. 

Realizing that he almost drifts off again while he breathes in her smell, Dean yanks his eyes open. He wonders if she’s still here? She said that she had an early meeting but Dean has no idea what time it is. Turning around in bed, he reaches out for his phone, sees that Balthazar, one of his investigators has called him. But what catches his eyes is a text from her. 

  Please lock the door when you leave. 

  Well, he doesn’t really want to leave, if he’s honest. He wonders when the meeting will be ending, wonders if she’s going to come back home or not. And then he realizes that he’s a fucking idiot for not asking. But again, he doesn’t want for her to think that he’s clingy, when that’s maybe what he is deep inside. 

He quickly types in a reply, sees that it’s already 11.23am. Surely her meeting must be finished by now.

  D: I just woke up and a little sad that you’re not here. When will you be back?

  Next, Dean thumbs over the contact of his investigator, calling Balth back. 

“Boss,” The man on the other end greets him.

Dean clears his throat before he speaks, his mouth feels dry, his voice is raspy, “What do you have for me?”

“Yeah,” Balthazar says, “Uh, the Cole Trenton guy, I found him.”

Dean’s heart races but he tries to keep his cool. Good news would be if Balthazar told him that he’s in fucking jail but again, that would have been too good to be true, wouldn’t it? “Good. Where?”

“He still lives in the city. I followed him around and saw him lurking around the place where she works but he mostly stays in the coffee shop around the corner and goes back home. He has a new girlfriend, though. Maybe he just needs to check if she’s alright?”

Dean snorts, the dude can check in with Dean’s fist if he wants, “Was he ever around the club?”

“Not since I’ve had my eyes on him, sir,”

Fuck, it’s most likely not Cole who damaged the wall of his club, then. 

When Dean doesn’t say anything Balth continues, “There’s the thing, he was arrested for domestic violence about six months back, lost his job in the process, but the woman took him back and decided not to testify. Said that she reacted out of frustration and her injuries were caused because she fell down the stairs. The case has been dismissed.”

“Fuck,” Dean mutters under his breath. He’s fucking angry. What if the women would have been Y/N? What if he laid a hand on her? Did he? She’s told him that he didn’t and Dean believes her, but there’s still that weird feeling in his gut. Dean clears his throat, swallows down his anger, “What’s he doing now?”

“Probably lounging on his girlfriend’s couch and stalking your girl every now and then. His girlfriend has taken on two jobs to keep them somewhat afloat,”

Dean’s so fucking relieved that she’s not with that fucking son of a bitch anymore. 

“Right,” Dean says, “Thanks Balth, can you get someone to cover him?”

“Yeah, I can get someone on board for that,”

Dean hears a ping while Balthazar is talking, he guesses that it’s maybe a text from her, “Good, okay. Balth, I need to go. I’ll see you, bye.”

He quickly hangs up, and thumbs over his messages, smiles when he sees that he’s right. 

  Y/N: I’m on the way back, are you still there?

D: Yeah, I haven’t even got out of bed yet. 

Y/N: Okay, please wait for me?

  Dean grins. He’d wait a lifetime if he has to. He thought that he made that very clear already, but apparently, not. But he also knows that he can’t write that, so instead, he types something else.

  D: I’ll be here. Take your time.

  He places the phone back on the nightstand before he gets up, deciding to take a shower before she gets back.

  *

He’s back in bed when he hears the front door, hears a heavy bag being dropped onto the floor and she walks into the room in a flowery dress that’s not too short but it makes his dick stir nonetheless. It’s really weird, because he usually has better self control.

There’s a hint of coffee aroma in the air. It makes his mouth water. Dean’s been up to her kitchen, looking for coffee but all he found was water. He thinks that she should definitely stock up her fridge and pantries but he realizes that between work and being with him, she’s not really at home much. Which leads him to his other thinking. That she’s wasting her money by renting out this apartment when she could easily move back in with him. But he gets it, gets her way of thinking, because for her it’s too soon.

She frowns when she sees him staring. His heart is racing, though, can’t hide the grin on his face, “You’re still in bed?”

“It’s too comfy,” He mumbles and to emphasize his words, he digs the back of his head deeper into the pillow.

Chuckling, Y/N walks around, and Dean’s happy to see a smile on her face. She takes the scent of coffee with her and now he sees her producing a cup from her back where she was hiding it. She holds out the cup for him to which Dean sits up straight in bed, takes it from her and takes a sip of liquid gold. 

He grins before quickly taking a couple more sips and sets the half empty cup back on the nightstand before he grabs at her wrist, and thumbs over the back of her hand. Dean looks up at her, still grinning, “You know, this seems like a dream of mine,”

“A dream?” 

He nods his head, “Yeah, you bringing me coffee in bed,” His hand tugs at her dress, “It’s just... you wore a little less clothing in my dream,” 

She’s full on laughing, “You dreamed about me bringing you coffee naked?” 

“Hey, no kink shaming here,” He lifts up her dress, bites back a groan when he sees her lace panties, feels jealous of all the men who might look at her and wonder what’s underneath, also feels pride that he’s the only one who knows that now, “Come on, loose the dress and come in,” He pats his lap and he’s sure that she can’t miss the bulge beneath the sheets. He didn’t get back into his underwear after the shower.

Even though his cock is straining visibly, he has to keep himself in check because he’s not going to fuck her today. He wants to give her time to recover and he can usually control himself pretty well. It’s just.. it’s really hard to do it around her.

She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and grins before she undresses. Dean watches her pull the dress over her head, watches her standing there in her bra and panties set and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

As soon as the fabric drops to the floor, Dean grabs her wrist, tugs her down and she falls into his lap with a squeal of laughter. He chuckles as he turns her around so she was half lying on top of him. His one hand caresses her face, thumb painting along her eyebrow, down her nose, and he kisses her, soft and tender, tastes coffee on her tongue as well.

He cranes his neck, their noses are still connected. Pecking her lips once more, Dean lets himself fall on his side, draws her close and lets her rest her head on his upper arm. 

She rakes her nails along his body, circles his nipple and Dean shudders. She giggles and looks up at him. 

“How was the meeting?” He asks with a kiss to her forehead. 

“Good,” She replies and nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, “I have to attend a workshop in Washington.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, “When?”

“Ugh,” She sighs, “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow, and I’m staying for two nights.”

Dean can’t say that he’s happy about that, but it’s her work and Dean can’t possibly tell her that she should ditch that and live with him. At least not yet. Because that’s his dream? He really wants to provide for her and maybe instead of working, she can fucking write her novels or whatever her heart desires. Yeah, maybe one day he can convince her but it’s certainly not today, and he knows that too. So instead of being grumpy about it, he’s going to be supportive. 

“You don’t want to go?” He asks, because she pulls a grimace.

“I was daydreaming in the meeting and when Naomi asked who will represent us at the workshop, nobody raised their hands and then I was probably looking really zoned out, so she asked me and of course I jumped at the mention of my name and the next thing I knew, I said yes and now I have to go,”

Dean throws his head back and laughs heartily because he can just imagine it. It happened a couple of times in class as well and she always picked up the most boring and annoying tasks like that. One time he wanted to help her by nudging against her ribs with his elbow, but that just made it worse because she raised her hand right away and Dean couldn’t roll his eyes back into his head fast enough. 

Y/N punches his chest and he bites on his lips to stop laughing. 

He surges forward, tilts her chin up and kisses her quickly to not laugh more and avert the subject to something less funny, “What were you daydreaming about, huh?”

Pulling her lips between her teeth, she trains her gaze downwards and Dean smirks because he thinks he knows the answer to his own question.

“I’m so horny,” She breathes out. Sulks a little as pouts her lips, “Like, I woke up really horny and it’s your fault,”

Dean gasps playfully, “My fault?”

“Yeah,” She mumbles and he has to grin some more, kisses her harder, a little rougher. 

He bites down on her bottom lip, making her moan into his mouth and she actually starts to wiggle her hips, pushing her clothed cunt into his hard cock. Dean’s hand goes to her hips, holding her still and she whines.

“‘M not gonna fuck you today, baby,” Dean mumbles, doesn’t really actually believe his own words because his restraint is hanging by a fucking thin thread.

“Why not?”

There’s that pout again that he quickly kisses away. 

“Because you’re sore and the last thing I want is hurting you,”

“Gah!” She lets out a frustrating groan that makes Dean smirk.

“Come on,” He releases her hips and pulls his arm out from under her, and she’s still pouting, “If I wasn’t here what would you do when you’re horny?”

“Uh,” She parts her lips, her brows arch in a curious manner.

“Show me,” Dean says, and honestly, he thinks that he’s going to regret asking but maybe he’s also just a fucking masochist.

He sits up on the bed, leaning his head against the wall behind it, one eyebrow raised as he watches her teeth biting down on her lips. Her gaze is trained down, as if she’s still debating about it. 

There’s an audible exhale and then she whispers, “‘K,” before she crawls over to her nightstand on all fours and Dean groans at the sight of her lace panties, the fabric at her crotch a shade darker. She’s fucking wet and he has a hard time not giving in. Her ass is on full display too, round and so smackable. He couldn’t resist reaching out and smacking down on one of the cheeks, hard. He leaves his hand there and squeezes her flesh, jiggling it around. Y/N looks back at him over her shoulder, a playful glint in her eyes.

Dean watches her opening a drawer by her nightstand, taking something out before closing, and she hides something behind her back. 

She sits back next to him and it’s then that he sees it. 

It’s a vibrator. 

Dean’s grinning like an idiot. He’s pleasantly surprised, actually. 

Sitting up, they’re now shoulder to shoulder and he watches her getting into position and taking off her panties. He helps her by unclasping her bra and takes it off as well, tossing it across the room in his eagerness. Before she can turn it on, he snatches the toy from her fingers and she looks at him perplexed. Dean just grins, kisses her, sucks in her tongue and makes her moan into his mouth. He drinks up her breath, swallows down her cries. 

By now his dick is leaking pre-cum and it’s fucking throbbing. He has to remind himself that it’s not about him. 

Dean turns it on and it vibrates to life. He looks over, sees her tugging her bottom lips between her teeth. He places one hand on her knee to spread her and holds the vibrator to her clit with the other, and immediately, she squirms when the vibrating hits her. He watches her face, tries to find the right place, smiles when he hits it because she’s throwing her head back, closing her eyes. God, she looks absolutely beautiful like this. Completely debauched and blissful.

He tilts his head, nuzzles his nose against her temple, whispering to her, “Tell me how you like it,” 

Y/N swallows, “No, like that, it’s… it’s good,” 

Pulling the vibrator off her, Dean threads through her folds with his hand that he used to spread her, figuring he doesn’t need it anymore since she opens up so sweetly on her own. He groans when he meets her wetness. She got wet so fucking fast. There’s a small puddle just below her pussy. 

“Jesus,” Dean hisses low, places the slick fingers to his lips and sucks off her juice, groaning as he does it.

He goes in again, scoops up a little more and this time, he places his fingers to her mouth, and puts the vibrator back to the place where she needs it most. She has her mouth slightly parted and Dean paints along her lips with his wet fingers, “Taste yourself, you’ll see why I can not get fucking enough of you,”

She sucks in his finger, twirls her tongue around it and Dean groans because he can’t not imagine her tongue around his cock. It’s bad, really bad, his walls are crumbling.

Dean quickly pulls his finger away, cups her chin and titls her face, crashing his mouth to hers and slides his tongue in, tasting the last remaining scent of her on the tip of her tongue, drinks it in. Her hands are both on his arm, fingernails digging into his skin. She moves them, tries to get a better grip, leaving little crescent moons in their wake. 

She’s so responsive, it blows his mind. 

“Touch me,” He whispers into the kiss and licks up the side of her face when she looks down to where his cock is leaking but is still covered by the sheet. 

Nodding her head, Y/N moves the cover away. 

“Spit in your hand, baby,”

He grins when she does, accumulates enough spit in her mouth to wet her hand. What a fucking good girl. He absolutely loves how she follows his directions, not that she needs much guiding, though.

She lays her slick hand around his shaft, index finger and thumb toying around the sensitive and leaking head of his cock, and Dean fucking groans loudly at the touch but he’s too far gone in the moment to actually care. He drops his forehead to her shoulder, feels her kissing his hair at the top of his head. 

Dean presses the vibrator a little harder against her nub and she jumps up a little, which makes him look up at her again, claiming her mouth once more while she pumps his shaft with both her hands. 

They probably look completely weird angled but it just feels fucking right. 

Moving his hips he begins to fuck up into her hand. Her fist twists when she reaches his cockhead.

“That’s good, just like that,” He whispers against her cheek, his nose pressed into the side of her face. Dean swallows hard because he sees her face grimacing. She’s close. “How many times have you used your toys since we’ve met?”

“Thr— Ah— Three times,” She manages to say. 

He kisses her cheek, leaves his mouth there, “What were you thinking about, huh? Were you imagining me?”

“Uh-huh,” Her nods are frantic.

“Uh-huh?” He smirks, “Imagining me rubbing you? Imagining my tongue on you? God, you’re so fucking sweet, I could eat you out for fucking days, baby,” He tilts her head to kiss her, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip before he parts, and she moans out in pained pleasure, “Did you imagine my cock? Imagining me fucking you? Fuck—,” He pauses to let out a grunt because she grips around his ball with one of her hands, squeezing on just the right side of painful. 

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He growls, by now, the string that holds his willpower together is fucking gone. Cut through by her soft whimpers and by her hand fondling is balls and Dean’s such a goner for that. 

“Uh-huh,” Y/N manages to say, nods her head and turns to kiss his cheek, tongue skidding over his scruff, “Please,”

Jesus, her voice when she says please just pulls at all the right strings inside of him and that’s not fucking fair. He should have better control, he should fucking not give in— 

—but of course he does. He’s such a goner for her. Whatever she wants, she gets it.

“‘K, here’s the thing,” Dean’s voice cracks a little, “I want you to come for me, and when you do, hop straight on my cock, alright? Can you do that, baby?”

“Y-yes,” She says and her face contorts, “I’m close,” 

“I know, baby, I know,” He smirks, his hand around her goes a little further down, twisting her nipple, “Come now, I can’t wait to fuck you,”

It’s maybe another minute, and he doesn’t think it’s a full minute either, but she comes with a twisted face as her legs shake. She quickly buries her face against his shoulder, her grip around his cock tightens and Dean has to bite back a pained groan. She’s quick to remember what he asked her to do and gets up to straddle him. Dean helps by positioning his cock to her entrance. 

He abandons the vibrator, turning it off and tosses it don’t know where, can’t possibly concentrate on that when she sits down on him, her pussy still convulsing, making it a fucking tight fit, and Dean has to fucking hold himself back as he tries not to come right away.

Dean feels every ridge of her inner walls, feels every bump and it’s hot inside and so fucking wet, “Jesus, you’re still throbbing,” He grits his teeth, swings both his arms around her and holds her tight to his chest. He then moves down with her, laying himself on his back, “Prop yourself up on your knees, baby,” Dean feels her shifting her weight, “Yeah, just like that, good girl,”

There’s another squeeze of her cunt when he praises her and Dean has to grin. She absolutely loves when he praises her, and god, he’s not going to stop doing it. 

His arms are tight around her, fingertips digging into her flesh and she buries her face in the crook of his neck as Dean starts to fuck up into her. The wet sound of his dick moving inside of her, of his balls slapping against her ass, is lewd and loud in the room. It echoes off the fucking walls and it is a huge turn on. 

Y/N mumbles something into his neck that he can’t quite catch. His eyes widen because he thought she uses the safe word, thought that he’s being too rough and that he hurt her so he stills for a moment, fucking up slow and easy but then he hears her again.

“Dean, harder, please,” 

Fuck.

He holds her down, starts to fuck up harder. 

“Faster, I’m— oh god, so close,” She whimpers into his skin and who is Dean to deny her this really. 

While he fucks her harder, fucks her faster, he tilts his head to be able to whisper into her ear, “Jesus, baby, look at you, begging for me to fuck you rough. Fuck,” He swallows audibly and he feels his balls draw up, “Just fucked you rough yesterday but you’re fucking insatiable. Fucking love it,” 

“Oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Her pleas are coming out in stutters, short whimpers.

“Oh, baby, I won’t,” He’s panting now, “Won’t ever stop fucking you in every which way you want me to,” 

Her moans are getting louder.

“Come with me, fuck— baby, I’m going to come,” 

“I’m—,” 

She comes hard, her whole body shaking above him and her walls hugging him tight, squeezing at his throbbing dick, milking out every fucking drop he has in him. 

Dean bucks his hips a couple more times, emptying his balls with every push forward. He releases his tight grip around her body, begins to stroke her lazily soft, and she tilts her head into the skin of his neck, kisses him with featherlight touches of her lips. 

“Jesus,” He breathes out as he manages to catch a breath, “You’re wearing me out,” 

Y/N has to chuckle at that, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful sound. 

*

 They stay connected a while longer until Dean really has to go and check into work. He hates to leave her but she said that she has to prepare some things for the workshop with a couple of more meetings lining up the next days, and he really doesn’t want to monopolize her time. Well, honestly, monopolizing her time is all he wants, but he doesn’t have a say in this. 

She says goodbye to him in his shirt that he made her wear yesterday and it does something to him. Seeing her in it and paired with that absolutely beautiful smile — it’s a fucking lethal combination for his fucking heart (and cock). 

Dean kisses her once more, bruisingly hard at first but he softens the kiss, wanting to show her that it doesn’t always have to be rough, that he has other sides to him as well. A side that’s caring, a side that shows how fucking in love he is with her.

Chapter 19

[flowerspecial]

Calum College Series: Part 4

Warning: A lil’ bit of smut 

As soon as Mollie read the text from Calum, a wash of nerves flooded over her. She began to feel quite jittery and started to tidy her things in her room. Truth be told, her room was immaculate, she was always one for keeping her room tidy, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; she had practically been joined at the hip with Calum since they had met. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that felt a little bit more intense about this meeting. Ava watched Mollie scurry around her dorm with a bemused expression.

“Mollie,” Ava began, getting Mollie’s attention. “I doubt Calum will really care if you have a couple of pillows on the floor. He’s coming to see you, not the room.” Mollie looked at Ava with a stressed expression.

“I just want everything to be nice, I don’t want him tripping over. What happens if he falls over, breaks his leg and then hates me forever?” Mollie began to panic again as she frantically picked up all her clothes and shoes off the floor, trying to organise them to the edges of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overthinking just a bit?” Mollie gave Ava an exasperated look as if Ava was silly for not thinking about every possible outcome of the night.

Meanwhile, Calum had probably the quickest shower he had ever had. He didn’t want to keep Mollie waiting any longer. He knew that he was only going around intending to study, but he couldn’t help but wish for something more. When he walked back to his dorm, he noticed Ashton hadn’t moved from that morning.

“Have you actually been out of this room today?” Calum was rummaging through his closet for something to wear. He didn’t want to look too dressed up. Otherwise she might think that he is expecting something, but he didn’t want to look too casual; otherwise she might think that he doesn’t care.

“Not really, I thought about it, I really did. I was sick twice so I thought it would be better not to bother.” Ashton hadn’t even bothered to get changed out of last night’s clothes; his hangover had truly defeated him.

“Well, I think you should get dressed and give Ava a call.”

“And why do you think that?” Ashton lent up on his elbow and looked at Calum. Calum was pulling on some grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He thought it was casual but friendly.

“Because I’m about to go to Mollie’s to study, and if Ava is in the room, I know she will feel more awkward,” Calum started, as he sprayed himself with some cologne. “And so, if you invite Ava round here, or even go out, not only will you actually be able to get to know her, but Mollie might be more comfortable around me.”

Ashton took a few seconds to contemplate Calum’s proposition. Not wanting to be one of those guys who only talks to a girl when he’s drunk, he decided Calum was right, and it would be worth seeing if he liked Ava as much sober as he did drunk.

“Fine, give me like 10 minutes, and I’ll give her a call.”

“I’ll head over to hers now, that way it won’t look so suspicious like I’ve told you to get Ava out the way for me.”

“But that is exactly what it is.”

“I know, but I don’t want it to seem that way. She might get the wrong idea.” With that, Calum grabbed his bag and headed over to Mollie’s dorm.

Calum knocked on the door hesitantly, he was so nervous about this night he even doubted how he knocked. Was it too hard? Too soft? Too many knocks? Not enough? It was fair to say Calum was going a bit crazy in his thoughts, so he was thankful when Mollie answered the door. She looked slightly dishevelled as if she had been running around her room for a while. Quickly trying to fix her appearance, she brushed her hair with her fingers and pressed down her clothes.

“Please come in, sorry if my room is a mess.” Calum moved past her and put his bag on the floor near her bed. Calum didn’t understand what she was on about, her room looked immaculate. Mollie watched Calum as he walked into her room. She was rubbing her arm anxiously, trying to stop the blush from creeping up on her face. She didn’t understand why he had such an effect on her. As he lent next to her bed, he looked at Mollie with loving eyes. The two shared an intimate moment of looking into each other’s eyes from across the room until a rather loud notification pinged on Ava’s phone.

“Well I’m sorry to interrupt this cute as Disney moment, but Ash has just messaged, so I’ll be heading out. Stay safe, wrap it up.” Ava quickly grabbed her stuff and headed out of the room.  Calum took a moment to study Mollie’s reaction to Ava’s crude comment. When he noticed how visibly uncomfortable, she was, staring at the ground with her arms and legs crossed, he decided it would be better not to rush anything. He wanted the ball to be in Mollie’s court.

“So..what do you want to start with? We could start by looking over the module. Or we could look over what we did today? Or if you had any suggestions, I’m all ears.” Mollie rambled on, trying to compose herself enough to look at Calum without going bright red.

Calum took out his pen and paper, trying to save Mollie from her obvious embarrassment. “We could start with the module; it would be good to see when all of our tests will be. God knows I’m going to need all the time to revise I can get.”

“Okay great! I won’t lie to you, I may have already filled in my diary with the dates of our tests and stuff,” Mollie began. Calum laughed at her small confession. “But I’m more than happy to help you with yours. I have loads of colourful pens and stuff. We can make it really pretty!” Calum thought it was cute how much she cared about making all her college stuff look beautiful. It was refreshing compared to his approach, he used the same black pen all throughout the year and then just shoved his work in a folder.

Calum climbed onto her bed, pulling a cushion to put behind his back. He patted the bed to invite Mollie to sit next to him. Unlike last time, she sat quite close to Calum, making him smile.

They began to organise the tests onto a document for Calum. Calum let Mollie take complete control, as he found himself being in complete awe of her smile. He could look at her all day, and he knew that his heart would practically burst if he were ever the reason for her smile. Once they had finished organising Calum’s college schedule, Mollie even organised his classes that she wasn’t in, they came to a natural pause, not knowing what else to do. All Calum knew was that he didn’t want the night to end, so he needed to think of an excuse so he could stay longer.

“If you want, we can watch a film or something on Netflix. There is this new documentary that I’m dying to watch.” This time it was Calum who felt nervous. He looked at the newly written class planner as he spoke. He knew that if looked at Mollie his nerves would give him away.

“Yeah, sure! I mean, that sounds like fun. Let’s pack up all this stuff, and I’ll get my laptop.” She leapt off the bed and started to pack the stuff away. Not wanting to be intrusive, she pilled all of Calum’s things into a neat pile and placed it next to his bag. Grabbing her laptop off her desk, she climbed back onto her bed. While she was packing away, Calum had made himself at home, laying down on her bed and fluffing the pillows. He had pulled the Sherpa blanket from the bottom of the bed over himself. Mollie thought he looked adorable and grabbed at her side of the blanket so she could get close to him. Calum told her the name of the documentary, and she found it Netflix quickly and started to play it. Calum placed his arm across the pillows so she could lean back onto it and snuggle into him. Weirdly enough, this moment should have made both of them nervous, but something felt so natural about being in Calum’s arms.

“Is this okay?” Calum asked.

“Yeah, it’s nice, is it okay for you?” Mollie was laying inwards so she could face Calum. She was looking at him, searching his eyes for any sort of objection to their position. Calum kissed the top of her head softly and averted his eyes towards the laptop. She giggled softly in response and placed her head on his shoulder, placing one hand on his chest. Calum was hoping to the Gods that she couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating. He wanted to seem calm and confident, but he knew his racing heart would give him away.

They stayed in that position for a couple of hours, watching multiple episodes of the documentary. Only Calum couldn’t seem to focus on what was on the screen, he kept glancing down to look at Mollie. He wanted to take in every last thing about her, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the fact that her hair seemed to glisten in the light, and the way she balled her fist into his shirt whenever she got scared. The last one had a very different effect on Calum, and he was struggling to handle his emotions. His mind kept wandering to what Mollie would look like lying on the bed, grabbing at the sheets beneath her as he kissed down her body.

Wanting to test the waters, Calum dipped his head down and gently kissed Mollie’s cheek. Mollie blushed profusely but tilted her head so he could have better access to her face and neck. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and then finally her lips. She was smiling into the kiss, making Calum’s heart swell. He repositioned them so Mollie was lying closer to the bed and Calum was more on his side. He pulled away to stare into her eyes, savouring the moment.

He slowly moved to her neck, leaving small marks where he had nipped at the skin. Hearing her quiet moans only made him more eager to carry on. He softly pulled on Mollie’s t-shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes.” He took her top off, throwing it on to the ground. Mollie quickly tried to cover herself up by crossing her arms. Calum placed a kiss just above her heart and then looked back at her.

“Please don’t cover yourself, angel, you look beautiful.” She slowly uncrossed her arms and then placed them by her sides. Calum continued his trail of kisses down her chest. He took a moment to kiss each of her breasts, admiring the beauty in front of him. Every other kiss or so he made sure to place a kiss on Mollie’s lips, to reassure her that she should be one hundred per cent comfortable around him.

As Calum got to the waistband of her shorts, he once again asked her if he could remove the item of clothing. When she didn’t say anything, he pulled away from her. She looked at him with a quizzical look and searched his eyes for answers.

“Why did you stop?” She asked, trying to cover herself once again.

“You didn’t say anything. I need you to say yes angel, I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t happy with.” Calum replied. Mollie was filled with joy with Calum’s response, she had thought boys like this only existed in fairy tales, she couldn’t believe that she had someone this fantastic right in front of her.

Relaxing again, Mollie uncrossed her arms back and said, “please carry on Calum, I want you to.” Calum was more than happy to oblige. He took off her shorts, kissing further and further down. He placed two kisses onto each hip bone. He had a couple of fingers toying with the band of her underwear, he looked up at her again questioningly.

“Yes.”

Calum smiled and removed her underwear. He positioned himself, so he was closer to her core, he noticed that she was tensing so kissed up her inner thighs to try and relax her.

“If you want me to stop, say, and I will.”

Calum started off gently, rubbing soft circles on her clit. As she wriggled around on the bed, he wanted to kick it up a notch. He started by pumping one finger inside of her, watching her face looking for her reaction. Her face was screwed up yet there was still a smile, her fists were beginning to grab the blanket that was now underneath them. Content with this reaction, he added another finger and began to swirl his tongue in small tight circles on her clit.

Mollie felt like she was on cloud nine. She couldn’t understand how he was so good at this, not that she minds. The pleasure she was feeling was like ecstasy.

She could feel the pit of her stomach beginning to tighten as Calum hit a particular spot inside of her.

“Oh my god, this feels so good.” She moaned. Calum hummed in response which only added to the intoxicating sensation she was feeling. Her breathing was quickening as was her heartbeat.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” She pleaded as she tensed around Calum’s fingers. This spurred Calum on to kick it up a notch as he pumped his fingers even quicker.

“Cum for me angel, I want to feel you.” Mollie felt herself release around her fingers, she let out a muffled moan as she had placed her hand over her mouth so her neighbours couldn’t hear. Calum pulled away from her and grabbed a tissue from the desk to clean his face and hands. When Mollie got her breath back, he kissed her passionately.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” Calum whispered as he brushed his nose against her. Mollie couldn’t believe that he was thanking her, he had just given her the most incredible orgasm she had felt in a long time, yet he was thanking her.

“I should be saying thank you to you, that was amazing!” Calum grabbed her t-shirt and shorts for her so she could cover herself up if she wanted to. She gratefully took them from him and put them back on.

“You don’t need to thank me, that was amazing for me too!” They kissed gently again as they were smiling at each other.

They were tangled up in each other’s arms, embracing the closeness of each other. Calum was stroking Mollie’s hair as she traced circles on his chest. Their attention was pulled away from each other when the door loudly banged onto the wall.

“Oh, shit sorry guys, I thought you would have gone by now,” Ava said with Ashton in tow. “I just came to grab something, but I’ll be out in a second.”

Ashton smirked at Calum as he saw how close they were. Calum rolled his eyes in response and started to detangle himself from Mollie’s grip.

“No worries, I should probably get going anyway, I have a 9am tomorrow.” Mollie sat up as she watched Calum gather his stuff together. She couldn’t help but smile that he had come over to study physics, yet they ended up studying something a little bit different.

Calum placed a gentle kiss on Mollie’s forehead and said goodbye. He left with Ava and Ashton.

“So, how was studying?” Ashton asked Calum, looking for any tell-tale signs that anything more had happened.

“Oh, you know, it was alright,” Calum smirked back as he headed back to his dorm, leaving Ava and Ashton.

Part 5

[rizzizzsins-blog]

From the Ashes, Ch. 3

Wanna read the fic on Archive? Click here.

 Finally. 9 PM. Asher grabbed his things, pulled his regular clothes on, and signed the discharge papers. It was time to go…

 Go where?

 He really didn’t want to go home, even though Theo had demanded it. He was a grown-ass man, and he didn’t need Theo leering at him until he went to work. Nonetheless, he needed to change clothes and shower, so home it was.

 Gabriel had told him not to drive today, and Theo had the car anyway. He opened his rideshare app. Was Scamp around? He could use a couple of jokes and uncomfortable advances right now.

 Thank fuck. He was. He presses his profile picture and waits for a reply.

 Ping! Scamp was on his way. His phone went off again. Theo’s live picture feed. He was already out on the town, posing with some nightmarish, inebriated frizzhead of a woman. Of course. All that bitching that Asher wouldn’t come home, and Theo had started his night before 9:30.

 Fuck that.  Fuck Theo.   He changed his destination to go straight to work.

 BEEP BEEP. Scamp pulled up right in front of him.

 “Hop in. Daylight’s a wastin’, nyeh heh.”

 “Fuck daylight,” Asher mumbled, before getting in.

 The drive was quiet for a while. Asher’s work was on the other side of Ebott.

 “Cigarette?” Scamp asked. He seemed as content with the silence as Asher was. It was nice. They didn’t need to fill the quiet with bullshit.

 “Can’t. It’ll kill me even faster than you.”

 “Hey, these are nicotine free.”

 “Smoke is smoke when you’re a walking tree,” Asher got the last word.

 Was Scamp pulling over?

 Asher got a notification. The driver had canceled the ride and he’d gotten his money back. Was Scamp going to kick him out of the car?

 “What’s wrong?”

 “Why do you care?” Asher grumbled.

 “Who said I cared? Satisfy my curiosity and you get a free ride,” Scamp smirked.

 “I don’t wanna share. There’s no point.”

 “What’s that mean?” Scamp pressed on, amused.

 “Look, if you can see that I’m feeling like shit, why are you harassing me about it? Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

 “Nope. Spit it out.” Scamp rolled down the window and blew out a puff of smoke. “UEbott’s janitorial night shifts don’t start for another hour or so. Your head’s busted open and you want me to take you straight to work when I don’t even know if you’ve eaten dinner. If you die, the rideshare service will find some way to dump the responsibility on me, so tell me what’s going on so I can cover my ass in court.”

 Okay, that was funny, if a little cold. Asher snickers a bit.

 “My partner said I needed to be home by ten. Turns out he went clubbing at 8. I don’t even know what clubs are open and full at 8 pm, but Theo finds a goddamn way. I got the bump on my head from Sparkby Embers himself.”

 “Sparkby punched you? Be thankful you’re not dust, kiddo. What did you do? He usually just throws people out of the bar and kicks them around a bit. If he punched someone, it meant they really fucked up.”

 Asher hesitated.

 He didn’t want to seem like some kind of white knight.

 “You don’t seem like the type to get into fights easy, especially if you let your boyfriend walk all over you. So what did you do? I’ll throw in some fert if that makes you feel any better.”

 Fertilizing capsules? How was he affording those by being a discount chauffeur and smoking half his paycheck?

 “... he was talking shit.”

 “About you?” Scamp shrugged.

 “.... About you.”

 “That’s it?”

 “Yep. Happy?”

 Scamp burst into wheezing, uncontrollable laughter. It was half cough, half laugh, and for some reason, Asher didn’t mind the sound.

 “What’s so goddamn funny? Stop laughing or I’ll start laughing, and my laugh sounds like nails on a chalkboard,” Asher snorted a little.

 “You took a punch. From Sparkby. To the face. Because he was saying filthy shit… about a hooker! I don’t      wheeeeeeze    think I’ve ever heard a more stupid way to bust your skull open! Asgore on a cracker, you’re hilarious, rugrat!”

 Oh.

 So the rumors had been true.

 “Even so! He’s the one who hired you, so… I said it said more about him if he had to hire someone to blow him.”

 Scamp was still mid-conniption, when, on a particularly strong inhale, he sucked his entire cigarette right into his gullet.

 “Oh my gods, are you okay?!” Asher panicked.

 “Hey. Ashy. Check this out.”

 Scamp turned around, and blew rings of smoke at Asher through his eyesocket. Normally Asher would have been pissed, but the amount of smoke was negligible, and the stunt had impressed him.

 “Can you do it out the other one?”

 Shit. Asher immediately regretted asking, having temporarily forgotten the patch over Scamp’s other eye. “I’m s--”

 “Yep. Look.”

 He blew smoke up until the eyepatch lifted a bit, then timed it with the whistles of a steam train.

 “Choo choo, motherfucker. One Eye Express, coming in hot,” Scamp managed, before wheezing and laughing again. Asher had to wipe his eyes; his stomach was hurting from laughing so hard.

 “Aw, man. Still can’t believe you almost dusted yourself to defend a whore’s honor. That’s one I’ve never heard.”

 Asher shook his head. “It wasn’t about honor. People shouldn’t talk that way about anyone they’ve slept with, even once. It’s just not okay.”

 Scamp sighed, kicking his feet up.

  “Lots of shit in the world isn’t okay. There isn’t a damn thing you can do but smoke and work till you die, so try to make it last. Don’t do that shit again. You’re a fun passenger who puts up with my shenanigans, and I wanna drive you around some more, okay?”

 Asher grinned. It was nice to have someone care, or even pretend to like Scamp was.

 “Got it. Get me to work. You promised me a free ride.”

 “Right on it, Cap’n.”

 Scamp gently eases the pedal into ridiculous speeds, maneuvering through alleys and potholes to get Asher there as soon as possible. His eyelight seemed to brighten when they were cruising down the lanes. His cigarette went out, and he didn’t even light a new one; he was enthralled with the drive, and Asher kind of was too. He was a little sad when the car came to a stop.

 “Nice. Didn’t lose the left windshield this time,” Scamp grins. There’s a bit of a spark to that smile.

 “Not gonna lie, that was awesome. Stay out of trouble, though. You’re a meter maid’s wet dream,” Asher gently warned him.

 “Heh. As if they could catch me. Only Edge and my big bro can keep pace with my Nadine.”

 Of course he named the damn Lada.

 “I’ll see you later, Scamp.”

 “See ya.”

 And he was off, just as fast as he’d come to get him. Asher felt a little empty. Why was that?

 He pushed it aside, scanned his card, and hopped in the elevator. He liked to start from the third floor; by the time he reached floor one, it was time to clock out, and he got to walk right out the door. It was already nice and dark, the glow of his soul the only light in the building. It was all he really needed to see anyway. He opened his closet, pulled out his cart, and took a deep breath.

 Time to do the only thing he could ever fucking do right.

 The Biology wing was first. There were ten lab/classroom combo rooms and a large lecture hall for the building. It was best to get that out of the way first, because cleaning the lecture hall carpet sucked.

 The repetitive work put Asher’s mind at ease. The sound of the carpet foam, the whir of the vacuum wheels. The clink of quarters as he bought himself some canned coffee; in the quiet of the night shift, it was all music to his ears. He was half asleep, half dead, half angry, but none of that mattered. All he had to do was go up, row by row, spraying the foam, till he reached the top, then he vacuumed on the way down when the foam dried. Any trash he found, he could pick up with a vine and toss in the can; any pencils or pens, he could keep.

 There was one more thing Asher did that wasn’t in his job description; when he’d first entered his new job, he’d noticed how barren the halls and classrooms felt. Throughout his first year, he’d been sneaking large potted plants into places throughout the building. It had been four or five years since then and everyone had assumed the plants were supposed to be there. Of course, Asher didn’t put them in labs or places where they might contaminate something important. He gave them water when they needed it, and just a touch of his own magic, to keep them nice and vibrant.

 Seeing wilting leaves perk up to his touch made him feel like he wasn’t a complete failure.

 Eventually, the Biology wing was finished, and the biology offices were next. These were kind of easy. All he had to do was unlock each office, wipe down the floors, and not knock anything over.

 Most of the professors were human, and of little interest. Asher just cleaned their offices, tried to ignore their family pictures, and moved on. But the few monster offices were more interesting. It was cool to see where they came from, what they were up to. He at least understood their whiteboard notes a little better. All this talk of organs and systems made his head spin. There was a reason he chose Intro to Monster Bio to fulfill that particular prereq. It was easier to memorize a hundred species than to remember the difference between Squishy Lump #1 and Squishy Lump #2, much less what each one did.

 Occasionally, he ran into other janitors on his shift, but it seemed like tonight wasn’t that night. Thank goodness. He knew the building wasn’t exactly his, but he treasured the solace and hated intrusions on it. Even professors working late made him a little uncomfortable.

 He pulls a small speaker out of his cart. He’d kind of made a secret compartment for it, so that it’d always be there no matter who used his equipment. With one last look around, he turned the volume up.

 The rhythm of the music moved his feet and gave him a second kick of energy during that “one-third through my shift” slump. He was through with the offices in no time. Time for the second floor- the Psychology and Chemistry floor. Asher was especially careful with the “don’t knock anything over” rule in the chem labs. There were things that would give a regular monster a nasty rash that would outright kill him. This floor wasn’t too hard, since psychology labs required little special treatment, and the chemistry professors and students were extremely thorough about keeping their spaces clean.

 Normally, he didn’t pay tooo much attention to the names of the professors he cleaned for, but wasn’t that Clemm’s room at the end of the hall?

 Now he had to go inside. Well, he technically had to go in either way, but he was very invested now. What kind of man was he? How did he decorate? Why didn’t he have his office in the Philosophy building?

 As he approached, he could hear the faint sound of music, so he turned his own off. If Clemm was working late, Asher would rather avoid direct interaction. But all the lights were turned off. He reached for the doorknob; the office was locked.

 Apparently Clemm had left music playing in his office by accident. Wow, his office was incredibly nice, a corner office to boot. Asher had seen it before, but he had context for who worked in it now. The walls were painted the shade of pumpkin soup, and a couple of Himalayan salt lamps sat unlit. One on his windowsill, and one on his desk. He had a fancy coffee machine and an expensive tin of rooibos and black tea, with a dash of cinnamon. Asher almost wanted to spend his breaks in this space. It was so relaxing, with the faint scent of some essential oil in the air.

 He felt kind of bad for being such an abrasive little shit now. Maybe he could leave a note.

     Professor Clemm,  

     This might be a little out of place, but I’m Asher from one of your PHIL 101 online classes. I do the night cleaning in the building. I wanted to say I was sorry for being so rude in my first assignment. I’m going to do my best to be a bit more open in future assignments.  

 That should do it. Certainly better than his cold as ice email before.

 Now for the first floor- Physics. For some reason, this level took the longest to clean, even longer than the Biology lecture hall. Turned out physicists were messy people. There were several smaller lecture halls on the first floor that needed upkeep. The first floor bathrooms saw the most traffic, so they took longer to tidy than the others.

 Finally. The physics offices were a goddamn nightmare to clean.

 Especially the offices. Papers everywhere. No way of knowing what was trash and what was important. There was only one office that wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. Asher was always relieved to reach it; it meant his shift was almost over.

 Wait…. Who did the office belong to? Asher squinted at the nametag. A “Dr. Crimm Gaster”. Was this the interdimensional travel physicist he’d been mixing up Clemm with? In his defense, Crimm and Clemm weren’t that far apart sounding. He’s about to open the door when…

 “Can I help you.”

 “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Asher yelped, vines immediately wrapping around the object of surprise. If he was human he would have shat his pants.

 Asher’s query easily teleports out of his grip.

 “I would suggest that you refrain from suddenly attacking unknown monsters in the future. You do not know where some of us are from, or what we might do if startled.”

 It was the professor from earlier in the library. He was still as frigid and stiff as before, but in those red eyes burned a cold, calculating fire that chilled Asher to the roots.

 “Y--Speak for yourself! You just snuck up on me!”

 The professor blinked. “Hm. Your alertness could use improving. I passed you several times this evening. I suppose you were too busy with your little song and dance to detect my presence.”

 Oh, now      that    was embarrassing. Asher reminded himself to never have fun again.

 “Well… would you like me to clean your office?”

 “Is it not sufficiently ordered?” Cripes, was that a pointed question.

 “N-no, it’s the most organized room in the department. I still like to mop the floor just in case, that’s all.”

 “Then I would prefer that you refrain from entering. I expect my request to be respected.” With that, Dr. Crimm slipped into his office and closed the door, not even saying good night.

 There was only one space left to clean, and it was the worst part of Asher’s night.

 The VOID collider.

 He despised everything about the room. It was too spacious, had too many warning signs on it, as if the university knew they shouldn’t have built the damn thing in the first place. The door had to be unlocked with an alphanumerical password. It as 198X, when the first accident with the VOID had been rumoured to happen, a sobering reminder to not fuck around with this machine.

 The door opened silently and closed just as quietly. The familiar indiscriminate hum of noises emanated from the machine’s ventilators and cooling system.

 The monitors and computers were on. Asher did his best to ignore it. It just meant he’d have to be even more careful, if such a thing was even possible. The scent of licorice, air dust, and ashes filled Asher’s nostrils. Tonight it was especially strong, to the point that he almost gagged on it. Regardless, such a thing happened sometimes. From what he could see, the machine itself was firmly in the OFF position.

 The floor had to be cleaned first, with a special friction-increasing spray to help prevent slip-and-fall accidents. The keyboards usually needed to be cleaned, but Asher passed on it, since the computers were running. The last thing he needed was some professor ripping his branches out because he’d ruined a crucial calculation.

       Ç̸̢̪̞̩̯͖͖̜̗̟͖̫͐̊ͅǫ̸̣̠̞̩̱͊͜m̶̯̞̹̺̪͉͙̘̥͔̟͑̄̇́͑̂̓̓̅̔̚͠͠ȅ̸̟̼̎̉̊͆̏̋̈̐̈́̃̈͒͝ ̴̡̘̖͂̾̈͐̄̈́̊̅̍̑̐̈́̈́̿̚j̶̨̼̤̼̖̯̣̰͎̲͖̫̤̮͛̌̉̒̈́̒̅͗͝͠͝ȯ̷̡̝̜̠͚̩̲̋͊̑̈́͑͛͐̓́͐͜i̵̢̨͍̞͍̥̬̬͎͐̈́́̿n̵̛̊̌̎̍̿��̢̣͚̰̩̠̗̖̜̄̓͗̂͐͜ͅ ̸̮͕̝̲͉͈̤̤̎̐̆͌͘͝ṯ̷̡̢͎̮̰͈̭͋̈́͐̽̅͂̓̾̅͒̓ͅh̸̛̰̖̫͒̓̇̈̽̀͛̓̋͐̂̅̕̚ę̸̹͉̝̗̲̹̲͈̭͎̐͐̀̐̀͊̈͠͝͝ͅ ̶̨̢̩̮̟̰̖̥̬̠͇̹͖̬̻͒̒͂͆̄̈́͘͠f̶̦̖̍û̷͖̖̼̦̝̘̞͙͎̙̩͖̣͂̇͊̃̃͜͝ͅn̵͈̝͋͗͌̽̅̓̾̾̑̾͌̅.̶̮͍͚͔̩̪͚̟̼̬̪̈́̎̈̇

       What the fuck was that?

 Asher’s soul pounded in his chest. From time to time, the humming of the machine sounded like voices or other noises. The same thing happened when Asher listened to white noise for too long; he would start picking out voices or even music that wasn’t really there.

 It was fine. He just needed to breathe, to think about being safe and warm in bed…

 And to clean the inside of the collider.

 Fuck, this was the worst part.

 First, Asher stripped down to nothing but his underwear, leaving his phone and clothes in his cart.

 Next, he used the same passcode to open the protective gear vault. Several spacesuit-like objects waited for him. He found the one closest to his size and stepped into it, one piece at a time. First, the bodysuit. It zipped loudly, so that people would know it was secured shut.

 Secured. Check.

 Then, the helmet. He set it on his shoulders and twisted it until it locked into place. Check.

 Lastly, the gloves and boots. He connected the fasteners tightly, so that they would stick to the rest of the suit properly. Perfect. He would be protected from the background contamination of the collider.

 He opened a smaller cabinet with one of his keys and took out a large, cherry red, fire-hydrant looking sprayer with about a hundred labels on it. It was inspected daily.

 WARNING: CAUSTIC TO MONSTERS.

 WARNING: USING D.T. CLEAN FOR ANY PURPOSE OTHER THAN INTENDED USE WILL RESULT IN DISFIGUREMENT, LOSS OF SELF, AND MAY CAUSE OR PREVENT DEATH.

 LAST INSPECTED __/__/__AT _:__ __

 Y̶̼̝̲͖͇̣͐̿̾o̵̢̱̩͙̣͑ṷ̸̬̲̮͈̂'̴̧̯̳͙̥͛l̷̯͔̠̱͇͕͊̉̉l̵̝̏͐̒̎̃͠ ̷̲̤̱̳̭̞́͋̑͒̆b̷̧̻̙͚͚̤́͆̓̍͌̑e̶͉͈̙̎͐͐̕͠��̬ ̸̜͉̱̺̠̼͂͠w̷̧̙̹͇̱̠̿̋͋i̷̛͚̰͖͊̇̌͘͘t̸̘͐̐͋̏ḥ̵̾ ̶̤͕͊̐͑͆͝u̶̫͇̼͐͂̿́̽͒s̴͕̍̃ ̷̖̪͖͊͊̈ş̵̜̰̤̼̜͒h̶̡̩͕͔͉͔̃̄o̶̞͉̲͍͇̊̾̍ř̶̢̤̝̤̫͗̆t̵̛̫͉̝͐̈̈̿l̸̦͕̈́̾͝y̸̞̞͍͈̾͐̔̽̑͝ͅ.̵̼͎͓̲͑͒̉͒͠

 He really needed to stop letting himself get distracted.

 Before entering, he checked all fifteen safety locks. All of them were active. Good.

 He put in a much longer passcode, and the black glass doors of the collider slid open with a hiss of compressed air.

 They shut behind him with the same sound. Asher pulled out his special, titanium wool scrubber, and put his hand on the D.T.C trigger.

 R̶͉̍U̸͓̹̎N̵̩͔̣̔̃N̶̺̒I̶̧̥̔̆͝N̴̝̦G̵̨͖̫̏̈́͐ ̸̼̩̀͗P̸̠̰̫̓R̷̦͒͜O̴̦̠̓͋̈́Ć̷̭̘̱͂È̵̡̦D̷͔͚̮̆̏Ű̵͓͠R̶͎̓͠͝Ê̸͕̅ ̵͈̺͉̈̑̈́Ṉ̷̹̑A̸̗̼̺͋̎̕M̵͐͜É̴͇̭̔ ̸͙̇_̷̣̈_̶͚̹̩̔͌̅_̵̼́͂͠_̷̢͛̈̚_̸̗̌͌̎_̶̣͍̐

 ̵̩͐C̸͎͗Ö̴̠̘͍D̸̛͈̲̘͝E̴͙̱̋ ̴̻͈͐̐͝F̴̖̥̒̉͝Ơ̵̑͜R̷͉͎̙̃̌ ̶̮̅̇̔Ȧ̷̲͕P̸͓̈́P̵̺̳̈́̐̚Ṛ̴͋͒Ô̷̠̹̎V̴̰̈́͒A̵̼L̵̜̲̼̈́ ̷͕̾͊R̵̟Ẻ̸̙̜̦̏̑Q̸̙͖̄̋̈U̸̘̣̎́͊I̵͖̖̊R̸̨̺͇͂̈́͝Ḛ̶̦̣̾̌D̶̮̜̠̍

 ̶̡͈̂C̷̠͛Ŏ̷̹D̴͇͕E̸̞̥͔͊̏ ̵̤́͠O̸̥̦̎V̶͓͓͜͝͝͠Ę̷̰͠ͅŘ̴̘͓͓R̵̰̕I̸̡̤͂̌D̸̨̮͕͂Ę̷̳̖̏͒Ň̷̫͇̠

 ̶̨̦̪̀Ẽ̷͕͘R̸̹̍Ṟ̴͌̉O̷̫͉͊̎R̷̢̰̓͛̅

 ̸͖̐̔C̶̰̝͗͐ͅO̴̻̱͆M̵͕̆̽̑M̷̪̳̾̆͒E̷͚͆N̶̢̤͕͐̍Ć̴̫̖̠̂̕I̸̧̩̎͊N̸͕͋̈G̸̳̮̙̑̓.̸̺͐.̷̓̈͜.̶̫̿̊.̷̗͌.̸̻̮͝.̵̙͗ ̸̡͎̟͑̏P̸̹̈́L̵̼̂E̷̼̅Ȧ̸̦̪S̷̩͇̥̈E̴̠͐ ̴̢͇̳̐́͝B̸̧̩͍͠Ạ̷̤͕̾̾͠C̸̼̪͙̋͂͋K̸̩̈́̓̿ͅ ̵̛͉̓͜Ą̴̼͔̇̅W̶̲͚̽̔̎A̵̛̼̜Ȳ̸̚͘��͖͚ ̷̺͎̔̆̊F̴̣͚̅Ȑ̶̳͓̩͐͠Ó̸͔M̶̜̝̿͐͝ ̷̡̺̎̂C̸̯̺̀̂̎͜Õ̸̤̪̟̑̎L̴̖͕̥̂̕L̷̻̙̋͑Į̸̧̈́D̸̡̢͋̚E̸̙̒Ȓ̵͎̅ ̶̲̤̃͐D̵̲̾ͅÒ̷̪͕̇O̵̺̘̕Ṟ̴͇͂̈̋S̶̟͈̣̒̉̅.̴̻͋̕

 Wait what the FUCK

 Ş̸͚̂C̴̫͉͖̏A̷̻̅̈N̴̰̓N̶͉̩̝͠Ȉ̴̟̘̄͌N̶̮̆Ģ̵͓͉̈́͂ ̸̦̉̃F̴̢̋̈́̇O̷̹͌̽͌ͅR̸͎̈́̍ ̵̢̟̫̈́͝Ĺ̵̜̉͘I̶̤̤̞̾̈͐V̸̢͚̿I̴̺̋̌Ň̸̡͇͙G̸̟͙̺̋ ̴̡̬̍̃Ỏ̴̰Ḅ̶͚̦̈̈́̌J̴̜̪͇͌͝E̸̘͚̓͠Ċ̵͚̺T̸̥̻̓̉͋S̶̨̲͙̅̚.̷̟̰̓̌ ̶̞͑̎̈

 ̶̞͖͋1̴̛͙̮̞͋͑ ̷̮̝̉̈O̸̭̬͊͐͝B̴̖̼̣J̴̹̈́E̵̥͎̝̒͌C̷̬̅T̶̯̉͗͐ ̷̤͈̱̋̈̏F̷̫͑̿Ō̶̭̫͋̀ͅU̴̢̥̔N̷̨̺̱̅Ḋ̷̤.̸̨̛̞̍

 ̵͓̂Ạ̷͚̊L̴̝̘̜̋̿L̷͎͗̿ ̸̳̒͗̕C̷̡̗̈L̸̈́̓ͅḘ̴͖̔͒Â̴̧̻R̵͙͛̓͒.̶̛̼̕

 ̴̰̗͋Ċ̴̢̺͂̽Õ̷̟̥̔Ḿ̶̫M̶̻͔̒͝E̵̩͇̟͊̃N̶̥͕̒͝C̵̛̯̠̀̂I̴͓̯̝͛͐͘N̴̳̠͑͠͠Ĝ̸̭͙̝̂ ̷̦̅I̷̧͂̽̾ͅN̸̤͎̻̿̍ ̸̺̑̈̓5̴͈̮͗͑̕

 “HELP! PLEASE HELP ME! SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF!”

 Asher hurled himself at the EMERGENCY STOP button, slammed it down once.

 4̴̡̙̬͛͛

 Twice, three times, four times, countless times. Nothing was working nothing was working

 3̷͇̺

     “HELP ME! DEAR GODS, FUCK, PLEASE! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!”  

 2̴̱̬̍̓

 Asher screamed until his throat was hoarse

 1̴̨͖̇̈́͝ ̴̪̦̠̽͝:̵̡̦̅͠)̴͇̊

 But nobody came.