#damn frustration!! i hope i have something in the freezer that might still work.

[supercantaloupe]

in other news this is like week 5 or 6 in a row of me making the same apple oatmeal for the week's breakfasts

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 8

Supposedly everything I post consecutively is one part, but I always reach the 250 block limit everytime so I am forced to cut it off! It's all good though, I just hope you don't mind that.

Anyways, enjoy reading! I'll be working on my requests after I post this and the slasher fic in my works.

Edit: Holy sh*t I thought it wouldn't fit but it did! (And I meant the word count you dirty lil thing—) This will be the longest part in the series yet (since 4.3k words fit perfectly)

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: None :)

Contains: f l u f f (and maybe too much blushing but I have no regrets)

—

You let the student call the police as you tied up four unconscious men using their clothing. You left when you heard the distant sound of sirens and trusted her to explain what had transpired in the alley. You bid her farewell, resuming your walk to your destination. You breathed out your exhaustion, the little energy you got from a short nap earlier got spent punching people again.

"So...that was..."

"Expected." The orc supplied when you trailed off.

"Mm...Yeah."

Expected, both disappointing and frustrating. You did your best not to snap at the kid for it and only hoped she understood and learned.

The sun had already sunk long ago, but there was still a myriad of warm colors. Very subtle, but there. Each passing second transitioning it into a darker shade until little specks of light became visible. The sky...black in a matter of minutes. Street lamps lit your path as shops both closed and opened for the night with people saying hello and goodbye.

"Thank you, by the way. For uh, earlier." You got careless. Too careless than you usually are.

You shivered at the thought of what might've been the outcome.

He only nodded, along with a grunt of affirmation beside you.

"Are you mad?" you whispered. Was he angry at you being a stupid idiot and rushing straight into danger?

"No, just, "—he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—"worried." His scent was clearly not just of worry. He was also scowling.

-

Tai'chi was very worried about you, he always had ever since you met, which wasn't long but he felt a strong need to protect you, even if you could handle yourself well on your own. Oh, but he was angry, enraged within at those men who harmed the poor student, especially at the one who almost stabbed you at the back. If they were in his stronghold they would've been fed to the wargs.

No, he would've torn them apart himself.

You didn't speak again until you arrived at your place, finally. You're not rich and even if you were you have no desire to live in those luxurious and super expensive condos. You preferred to have something homey, small, as long as it had what you needed for comfort and safety, you were content.

It also saves a lot of money for future expenses and emergencies.

"So, uhm, welcome." You said as you unlocked your door after several tries on putting the key in. Tai'chi ducked considerably under it, his large frame barely making it through.

You took off your shoes, placed them on the side, and kept your socks on. He followed suit, taking off his boots, coming out barefooted.

It wasn't smelly, which was pretty surprising.

You headed to your kitchen and prepare dinner for both of you, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"I will cook." Tai'chi spoke and you immediately replied, stuttering.

"I-I should be the one cooking for you! It's not right. I'm the host and you're the guest it shouldn't be—"

"Pearl, I will cook." He asserted, his voice deep and confident, you sighed as it made you relent. You'd make a mess if you did anyway, might chop your hand off with a knife or dunk your head in the pot.

"Fine. But next time I'll do something for you instead," you groaned.

-

The orc grunted once before he stepped past you and into your kitchen while you plodded to your room.

Tai'chi paused for a moment to take in the details of your house. It was fairly small. From where he stood, his head was a foot away from touching the ceiling. To his left was an open way to what he assumed was the living room where he could make out half of a brown couch facing away from him. He also noticed a couple of framed photos hanging on a faded orange wall. Tai'chi glanced in the direction where you disappeared, he could hear the faint sound of the shower going on.

Good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he started preparing dinner for the two of you, making use of what was present in your humble home. You had a similarly humble kitchen with a simple stovetop and double-door cupboards.

A decent-sized (a/n: everything is small to him okay) refrigerator sat in the corner where he found some meat in its freezer, quite a huge portion for such a small person like you, but then again he witnessed firsthand how much you could eat, and eat like an orc you did. Tai'chi reached inside to grab the meat but met resistance. He subconsciously yanked the frozen thing off, his eyes widened when he realized what he did, nearly topping over the whole appliance. Tai'chi sheepishly adjusted the refrigerator back in its place, before he looked for other ingredients while he carefully moved around to avoid any more mishaps.

-

You went inside your bedroom, groggy and disgusting as you pulled off your clothes and threw them in a basket just outside your bathroom. You stepped inside and took a long, hot, well-deserved shower to get that dried sweat and blood off of your body. After you rinsed down, you sunk yourself in your little tub, sighing in content as you tried your best not to fall asleep. You shuddered and trapped yourself in a daze, enjoying the hot water around your naked form, relaxing in the aromatherapy you made for yourself as you hummed a tune, letting your thoughts wander.

The precision of that throw was simply scary. But also cool...mm. Awesome.

I wonder what happened to the Silverstones...

Courting, huh...who would've thought I'd be courted by an orc. I wonder what that entails...

Wait, I'll be courting him too, right?

"..."

You got out when the wrinkling started. Your muscles were still aching but less so than before. You used a towel to dry down before wearing a black oversized shirt, you had about 6 of them in your wardrobe 'cause hey, not one to dress up fancy and flashy. Plus blood gets splattered on your clothes a lot, it would be a waste of time and money. You also slipped inside your favorite pair of dark grey joggers, the one you always wore when you were at home. They were comfy!

You let your hair fall over your shoulders and back since it was still damp. When you got out the scent of cooked food engulfed you, wafting from your right.

Oh, how mouth-watering it was.

You tiptoed to your kitchen to peek at what Tai'chi cooked up. Unfortunate when you couldn't see anything with his broad physique was blocking your line of sight on the table.

"I could smell you, you know."

You almost, almost let out a yelp. You wiped your drool with the hem of your shirt.

"I- uh-"

He chuckled, "You must be starving. I—" Words died in his throat when he turned around to look at you.

He gawked.

You surprised him for the nth time today. There you stood before him, relaxed and freshly cleaned up, a whiff of mint reached his nose, your shampoo perhaps, mixed with your scent. You didn't have your mask on, which gave him a full look at your face, your lips were a little chapped, half-lidded eyes showing your exhaustion.

"Is there something on my face?"

"N-No." He stuttered as he tried to get something out. "Ehem, no. You just look... I'm done with dinner, you— we should eat, and then we can talk." Tai'chi said as he moved to take a chair and sat across you. You let that go, in favor of sating your hunger.

His cheeks were a bit darker in shade than his skin, but that slipped away as the dinner in front of you grabbed your full attention. It looked and smelled like pork curry. Was it pork curry? It's like something straight out of a Ghibli movie.

Bite-sized chunks of meat, diced potatoes, and carrots coated with a rich syrupy brown soup together with a modest –at least to both of you– portion of rice next to it. It was simple, but the way it tempted your senses implied that there was something more than what meets the eye, and your nose.

Or it's your gluttony speaking, probably.

You picked up your spoon and wondered if it's as good as it appears to be. You gulped, audibly.

You brought a small portion into your mouth, nearly falling off of your seat as you resisted the urge to make any sound that would outright embarrass you, but lo, as you took another spoonful, you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a moan. Your eyes widened and immediately covered your face with two hands as you felt it heat up.

You chewed and swallowed before you squeaked out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! It- It's just so yummy and tasty and I— it's amazing, and uh..." You trailed off and groaned, at a loss of words in your embarrassment. You risked to part your fingers and peek at him. He met your gaze and you hid again. His cheeks were in a darker hue than before. Was he flustered like you? Oh no, you shouldn't have done that, now he will think you're being weird!

Tai'chi cleared his throat and you removed your hands but refused to make eye contact with him, your face still hot.

-

"We... We should eat." He said, stiff and trying to seem indifferent. But that sound you made would forever be engraved into his mind, it was both cute, and, well, sensual.

Okay fine, it was somehow arousing, but he has it under control, he will keep his damn urges in check, even if it means jumping out of the window just to make sure he won't scare you away. He's an orc of honor for goodness' sake, he swore an oath, he will keep it.

You ate fast but paused to savor the food, minus any embarrassing noises, thankfully. The curry was rich and a bit spicy, the pork was soft and tender as you chewed at it easily, juicy as it is, along with the potatoes and carrots, both cooked and prepared with obvious care. You almost cried from the combination of flavors you nearly forgot it was just curry you're eating.

But damn, this is the best curry you've eaten your whole life.

It was minutes later when you finished your fourth heaping plate of food. Tai'chi had five. He made a lot which was great, considering how your plates were wiped clean as if they weren't used in the first place.

Damn, you ate like you didn't eat for a week.

With some regained energy, you stood and took the dishes before Tai'chi could even stop you, putting them in the sink and washing them, quick and thorough. Once you were done with that, you went back to your seat, ducked your head, and stared at your lap.

"..."

"I... Thank you for the food. It was really delicious and great and everything! And, uhm, you made the pork curry like a pro and I never tasted anything so fulfilling, —my mother will beat me if she heard that—and it was a simple curry but I, it's just so, so—" you huffed, "mind-blowing!" You were rambling, you knew. You looked up when he didn't say anything.

H-He's grinning...

"Thank you. I pride myself in my skill in the kitchen and I'm happy what I made for you was satisfying." Tai'chi thumped his chest, showing that he was very honoured to hear your words. He's never telling you he almost broke your fridge though.

"It was great!" You exclaimed right after him, throwing your hands up. It was truly great. He grinned even wider at this, that dark shade still present in his cheeks, though you were no better as you could feel the warmth on your own.

"Then I am beyond happy and honored to hear that from you," liga lul, he stated, only saying of the last part in his head.

You smiled at each other.

-

"Is now a good time to discuss my kind's courting rituals?" Taichi asked after a minute of sitting there in silence.

"Y-Yes, please," you replied. "So, how do orcs court someone?"

He straightened up in his seat.

"We show off to the one we're interested in, basically speaking. Ranging from skills in fighting to proving that we could provide for our...mate." He paused, watching you closely.

You nodded for him to continue. Not gonna lie, that last part made your heart skip a beat. Mate, huh.

"We," he coughed, "we also chase or fight off other suitors, be it threatening them or engaging them in battle. And if they attempt to kidnap or hurt the person courted in any way, they will suffer the wrath of an orc."

"So, they'll...die?"

"Yes, or so that's what it usually was back home. Here, in this city, it's a crime to kill someone just for that reason, but it is law among us. No one would bat an eye if someone gets beheaded just because they were foolish enough to insult the person an orc is courting."

"Oh," pretty brutal but okay. "Is there an option where they don't get murdered or..." You asked, waving your hand around. Killing because of an insult is going overboard, in your opinion, but then again, anyone would be furious if their potential partner gets slandered or taken away forcefully.

"When the courted wills it. It is always up to them to decide the fate of those who tried to harm them, and the orc must take their words into action."

"Oh, good. I really don't want you getting in trouble just because someone called me a freak and all," you said. You looked at your hands, calloused and a little rough from experience. Scars were littered over your body and you hid them well from any curious eye with your long sleeves and pants. Though right now, some of the scars on your arms were visible.

You jerked when you felt his large hand grab your arm and moved along to yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of it, his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"They are wrong to call you that."

"And everyone's a piece of shit to call you a beast, a savage, or a murderer," you followed up in an instant.

His expression softened, and you smiled, ignoring how your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to caress your hand.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse, beating so fast he was scared for your health. But he was happy to know he could make you feel this way, his own heart was thumping loudly in his chest too.

"As I said before, we would show that we could provide for our potential partners. We would bring to them our best kills from hunts, offer gifts crafted by ourselves if we have the skill, if not, we will buy them tokens and things that remind us of them or what pleases them."

"Wait," you interrupted, "when you insisted on cooking dinner, was that a part of courting?"

He gave you a small smile as he scratched his sideburns, sheepish like a little child caught stealing candy.

"Yes." He answered, rather quiet than his usual booming voice.

"Uhm, I must say, it was really amazing. Your cooking, I mean. And thank you, again."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Building houses or fixing the courted's current one is also a part of it."

"You're not gonna build me house right away, are you?" You joked, but then he didn't reply. "Wait, you're serious? But we're still studying and—"

"I am serious about building a house for, uh, the two of us," he interrupted, "but yes, I understand our current situation won't allow that to happen...yet."

"H-How long does the courting last?" You couldn't help but ask. He's talking about building you a house someday and you don't even know how old he is! No connection to what you're fumbling about but yeah, your mind is messed up. You are curious though...his age.

"It usually lasts for six months, to give time to get to know each other but also not prolong the courting stage so they could proceed to the next, but there are times when it lasts longer than that. You will have absolute control over how fast or slow we proceed in the courtship. That means it's up to you on when to end it and decide whether you'll...take me as your mate, or turn me down."

"Sounds pressuring but okay." You want to, like, combust right now.

He chuckled.

"Pressuring? No, no, please do not be pressured. Your word is law and I will face death by my family's ax if I disobey your final decision."

"Again with the death thingy!" You were appalled at how extreme orcs were.

"Us orcs are very strict and firmly tied to our traditions, but I can say we are changing. It is slow, but change nonetheless."

"I have a question," you raised your free hand out of habit.

Tai'chi nodded.

"I hope this is won't offend but how old are you?"

There, you said it. Oh fuck, you hoped it wasn't offending. Shit it was— asking his age, seriously?

"How old do you think I am?" He questioned, teasing you, a smirk on his lips catching you off guard.

"What? Noooo that's not an answer! I can't guess, you might get angry."

"I won't," he supplied right after. Why would he be? In fact, he is pretty much enjoying himself just watching you fidget with your ears slightly tinted pinkish. By the gods, he wants to touch them.

You sighed.

You stared at him, avoiding eye-contact as you tilted your head to get a good look at his features. He had a long and narrow scar you didn't spot before, in a lighter green color on the left side of his face. It wasn't noticeable if you stare at him up-front. It went down his neck and ended just above his collar bone. You wondered what caused it.

The orc was rough, his double tusks sharp and intimidating, even horrifying to another set of eyes but to you, he was attractive and rugged, his scent alluring and you only found him more fascinating each passing second. The scars he had enticed your curiosity but you weren't gonna ask about it, yet.

You always thought the standards set by society are rather absurd. You looked back at the time when someone asked you what your type was, along with showing you different pictures of men, human men, which were deemed "hot" (with quotation marks, yes) by most people. You didn't answer because; one, you don't know them; two, you couldn't tell what their personality was because you can't scent them; and three, it only annoyed you. People found you even weirder after that. Ironically deeming you senseless for not having an eye for beauty. No taste or missing out, they said.

But one's beauty wasn't found in sight alone.

You hummed to yourself. His hair was rich black, no trace of graying, so maybe he's not so old? 30s? How fast do orcs grow up? Do they even age? What do they look like when they were children?

You were brought back to the present when he gently squeezed your hand.

"Oh— uh, 35?" You blurted out, a bit panicked. As far as you know no one is as....buff as him in your age— but wait he's an orc!

"Oh no wait that's—"

You were cut off by a loud snort followed by a boisterous laugh coming out of Tai'chi, making you more embarrassed than you already are. His guffaw shook your apartment you swear your neighbors are filing a noise complaint tomorrow with how much he was laughing and you raising your voice.

"No," he said, "no actually, I'm still in my 23rd year. Do I really look that old?" He questioned as he chortled.

"23rd?! But you're— you're," you gestured at him. He's just five years older than you (which isn't long period of time you think) but he's— he's fucking huge! What the hell did they eat up North?

"Yes," he laughed again, amused by your reaction. "Believe it or not I am. Orcs begin training at age 6" he shifted the topic, "The adults would let them choose their desired weapon and craft to pursue, but also allowed them to experience all selections, from swords, battle axes, hammers, and many more, along with skills and crafts like hunting, blacksmithing, combat, construction, even basket weaving.

"I went on my first hunt when I was 12 and brought a stag back home. I tamed my first warg at 15, named him Nadul, Orcish for 'night'."

"6 year old me snuck out of the house during nap time to collect twigs in the woods while you were wielding weapons and—"

"That is correct,"

"And you had a pet warg?" You knew what wargs are, you read about them when you were in high school, along with other animals that fascinated you. They looked like large wolves with the stature of an adult grizzly bear and can carry a full-grown orc into battle.

"Have," he corrected, his fluffy buddy was still very much alive and well the last time he went back to visit his home, which was three months ago. He doubted anything could take down Nadul, not even a Frostbear, he was the one who trained him after all.

"I still can't believe you're 23. You look so..."— you were not gonna say old, no— "mature."

"At a different rate from humans, yes."

Of course they do. You got so much to learn about orcs, and him.

"And you? How old are you?"

"19."

"Oh? You look 13 with how little you are,"

You didn't expect him to be playful like this, but you went along.

"Hey! I'm only small compared to you, you giant!" True, you were a tad shorter than most girls your age but it has its perks! You'd save a lot of money from buying clothes just because you grew rather slowly. "And in fact, I'm still growing!"

"So am I." He grinned, smugness painted all over his face.

"Noooo, if you keep growing you won't fit through the doorway!" You whined, pouting at how much of a tease he was being.

He found it adorable, the way your lower lip was upturned as you looked at him. The sudden urge to pat you rose but he didn't act on it.

"Do not worry, us orcs stop growing in our 25th year," or not. "And I will make sure to feed and treat you good so you'll become taller!" he stated confidently. Tai'chi was about to laugh again, but he froze with his jaw open when you turned real red, your ears tinted and your lips quivered, unable to speak out anything.

That last part, made your face feel like fire just kissed it, twice. Panicked and having no idea what to retort, you let your head fall on the table with a thud. You gripped his hand tight and took silent breaths to calm your thumping heart down.

"Y-Yeah... I..I l-look forward to that, Tai'chi." You were able to say that at least.

He gave a soft grunt as he looked at you on the table.

You were very flustered, he scented. His comment-sort-of-declaration was clearly the reason. But oh, he had no regrets. He will make sure you're healthy and well-fed, and it's just one way of showing off with his skills.

That's only the beginning.

You were in for some Orcish surprises.

You sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just taking in each other's scents, soothing and calming your hammering heart. Tai'chi continued to caress your hand, gentle for such a big orc like him. He could snap your neck with two fingers alone, but he remained careful like he was holding a thing so delicate.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse slow down to a normal rate, your scent shifted to that of a relaxed state and something fuzzy. He can't call you his yet, you just met today but you already got him wrapped around your tiny fingers. First, he will court you and show his admiration, prove his worth. And you, yourself, turning it into love the more you spend time together, he knows it will.

And he'll surely be damned to let this chance slip. Not once did he took interest in getting a mate before, his mind too busy and filled with his responsibilities along with studies in other kind's culture, and taking care of his siblings.

But back then and there, something pulled on his heart, the way your eyes stared into his for seconds that felt longer than eternity itself. An exaggeration, but that's what he felt.

He found you.

-

You were about to doze off so you removed your head from the table and tried to blink away your sleepiness, the light hurting you a little. You should get to bed soon, your first class starts at 8 in the morning. You stared at Tai'chi, admiring that blue eyes of his, its hue similar to that of lapis lazuli, you thought.

"I should take my leave now. We need to rest, especially you." Tai'chi said when he saw how tired you appeared, you were barely keeping your eyes open. He stood up from his seat, lightly pulling you up with him. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you led him to your door.

"Keep safe," you bid once he was ready to go.

"You as well... I will see you tomorrow."

"Mm, g'night."

Tai'chi breathed through his nose before he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was brief, but it sent a pleasant warmth all over your body. You were too sleepy to even bother being shy now, so you only smiled at him.

"Goodnight, lak'mar lul." He gazed at you, sighing before he stepped out of your apartment.

You stood there for a moment before you checked your door and made sure it was deadlocked. You killed the lights off as you sluggishly trudged to your bed. Darkness enveloped your home, a welcome one. You crawled to the middle and tucked yourself under the dark blue cotton sheets.

You were out like a light once you settled down. Much too many things happened right after another, draining you to an exhaustingly low point. You only prayed you'd feel better in the morning.

Your last thought was about how warm the orc was, and how, for some reason, his scent, his presence, felt like a home you never had, which was saying something since you had encountered a lot of scents in your life, both good and bad. You hugged your pillow tight as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber.

—

I'm putting this off for a bit to give time for requests and other WIPs. But if a random continuation pops out I'll have to write it down and set it aside for editing later.

Thank you for reading!

[miceandmonsters]

Orc Boyfriend - Ronar

Male orc x female reader; 5.5k

friends to lovers; first time

You met Ronar first year of college, bonding during a particularly frustrating class taught by an elf who thought a tweed blazer made him a good teacher. What started as mostly the two of you attempting to teach yourselves the required material and swearing creatively, bloomed into your closest friendship during school--one that even lasted past graduation. It, of course, helped that you’d stayed in the same city, both finding jobs and setting up lives less than twenty minutes from each other. You texted or spoke nearly every day and hung out almost as often.

More than once, over the years, both of your families had wondered/pestered about why the two of you weren’t more than friends. Your response never varied over the years. Ronar would always shoot you a pointed look, and you’d return with an exaggerated eye roll that would make him laugh quietly, and the conversation would move on. What you had with Ronar was good. After seeing more than one of your friends from school marry and then end up broken-hearted but a few years later, you were grateful to have Ronar’s dependable, constant, warm presence in your life. And you were nearly able to convince yourself that it was enough.

Nearly.

It was the little things about Ronar that felt the most damning. His loose smile right when he was on the cusp of tipsy to drunk. How he held open doors and helped carry groceries and picked things from tall shelves for you and anyone else he ever came across in need of help. The way the artfully selected beads in his dark braided hair glinted in the sunshine. His ass in wet swim trunks--you were only human after all and you thanked every god you’d ever heard of that he was definitely not. His serious expression when he was concentrating on his work, eyebrows knitted together and one thumb idly pressing against a tusk. It all added up to you being helplessly fallen for your best friend.

You probably should have said something already. You probably should have said something five years ago, honestly. Because now it felt like there was too much momentum, you were going too fast, too steady to try and jump tracks now. Couldn’t seem to quite get that thought through your thick head, but you were working on it. Or at least trying. 

In the meantime, however, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your wildly inconvenient feelings compromise your friendship with Ronar. He obviously didn’t feel the same, but he was still very nearly the most important person in your life. So you were there for him, through thick and thin, doing your best to deny your heart and support him like he supported you.

You had plans to go see a movie together one night after work, when he texted you as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

‘hey. would you be sad if i don’t want to go see that movie tonight?’

You frowned and dashed off a reply. ‘not really. everything okay?’

‘work was shit. dont feel like going anywhere.’

‘why don’t you come to my place? I can make spaghetti with pink sauce’

The little typing bubble appeared and disappeared a few times as you got out of our car and headed to your front door. Just inside your apartment, you got a reply.

‘i do like pink sauce’

‘see you soon’

You dropped your purse in its usual pile near the front door and headed to the kitchen, opening up the pantry cabinet to pull down--crap. You scoured through a few other cabinets, hoping that perhaps you’d just somehow overlooked or misplaced the required ingredients. Unfortunately, you had not. You were completely out. And there were only three ingredients to begin with. You dashed back to your purse and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before you ran to your car to go to the nearest grocery store.

Of course there were a million other people also trying to get last minute dinner supplies as well at the store. But you returned to your apartment in record time, noticing that Ronar’s car was parked a few spaces down. Thank gods you gave him the spare key when you moved in. 

You stepped through the front door to find Ronar splayed across your couch, as if he’d crossed the threshold and taken all of five steps before dropping face first into the cushions. Bad day at work indeed.

“Hey, Ro,” you said in a low voice. There was some sort of muffled return of the greeting. “Had to stop by the store real fast… you good?”

His hand lifted up to form a thumbs up for a second, then dropped back down to its place on the carpet.

“Okay.” It would be amusing if he wasn’t miserable. You went into the kitchen and set about the familiar pattern of spaghetti and pink sauce. After a few minutes, Ronar wandered into the kitchen, frowning at life in general and still in his work clothes. You hardly ever saw him in a suit. It was a good look on him.

He joined you, leaning against the counter across from the stove, arm brushing your shoulder in the process.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, tipping your head to look up at him.

He loosened his tie and a long sigh. “Not really. Just… the usual bullshit.” He shrugged off his suit coat, tossing it and the tie haphazardly to your kitchen table. 

You patted his arm. “That sucks. Do you… want a hug then?”

He looked over then nodded, wrapping you in a tight hug and tucking his face into your hair. Hugging your orc best friend was one part being wrapped in the most comforting grip you’ve ever known and one part trying to hold the sun. He was warm and solid and just absolutely the best hugger you’d ever met. You hoped that he found hugging you half as wonderful as you did and at least a little bit soothing. When you pulled back--his hands momentarily sliding across your waist, you noticed--he smiled down at you.

Yeah, you were totally doomed.

“So do you want to hear my plan for tonight?” you asked, turning back to the stove to stir the sauce and keep yourself from making all sorts of embarrassing giggling noises.

“Always,” he replied, coming to stand behind you and resting his chin on the top of your head.

You chuckled, but didn’t push him off. “This will be ready in about ten minutes or so. And I have ice cream in the freezer--it might be a lil freezer burned, but I think it’ll be okay. And I noticed yesterday that that show you like is now streaming.”

“Real Orc Wives of Forik City??”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh HELL yes!” He immediately thundered back into the living room. “It’s no Mountain Road Dwarf Truckers, but ROWFC is a classic.”

You heard the noises of him desperately searching for the remote and then the start up noise of your tv. Never down for long, that was Ronar. You smiled down at the sauce as you kept stirring, reminding your wayward, pattering heart that he was always like this.

Shaking it off, you pulled the cheese from the fridge, sprinkling a generous handful into the sauce. Then you pinched a bit more, tipping your head back to sprinkle it into your mouth.

“I saw that,” his voice came from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, grinning at him.

“You didn’t see nuthin’.” Then you took another pinch. He growled, tossing the remote aside, and jogged back to the kitchen, the obvious intention to steal what was rightfully yours in his eyes. “Nononono--” you protested, trying to block him by turning away and bending over to protect the valuable commodity. But he just leaned over you, laughing and easily engulfing you to snatch the cheese from your hands.

“Hah!” he proclaimed, triumphantly holding his prize over his head and out of your reach.

“That’s not very fair.” You rested your hands on your hips and frowned up at him as he grinned down at you.

“All’s fair in cheese and war.” And then he dumped half the bag in his mouth. Thinking of nothing but reclaiming the bag, you jumped up at him. Finding a foothold at his waist, you hauled yourself up over his broad shoulder as he continued to laugh. You reached for the bag that he was still holding out of your reach, but then--

Your foot slipped. The world lurched backwards. You gasped. Adrenaline shot into your bloodstream. 

But Ronar’s large arm swung around your back, catching you before you slammed against the floor. His worried face filled your vision, eyes wide and terrified. For a moment that lasted a thousand years, you both just stayed frozen in that position--him bent over and holding you while you clung to him. Only the sounds of both your heavy breathing filled the air between you two. 

Despite the nasty fall you’d almost taken, all your brain could notice was how close his face was. How close his face was, and how full his lips were. You bet that they’d be awfully nice to kiss, even better to nibble on. Your gaze darted from them up to his warm brown eyes and back down. Would he groan? Would he growl? Would he bite you back? Oh gods, you hoped he would.

Stop. This was your best friend, you couldn’t just--

All thought was immediately stopped as suddenly, without any warning at all, Ronar closed the short distance between you. It still took another full second for your mind to catch up with reality and spread the message to the rest of your consciousness that Ronar was kissing you. Ronar was kissing you.

You sucked in a startled breath. You were just starting to notice that his lips were every bit as gentle and supple as you’d ever imagined, when his eyes shot open and he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. Your world reeled as he abruptly straightened up to standing, pulling you with him. It was all you could do to hold onto his broad shoulders and blink widely at him. Had that just actually happened?

“I’m so sorry,” he said, distraught and shaking a little. He put you back down on your feet and stepped back, hands running through his dark hair. “I don’t-- I shouldn’t have… oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He clapped a hand over his traitorous mouth and paced away, still stuttering half-apologies. You, meanwhile, had managed to finally put your head back on your shoulders. Ronar had kissed you. Ronar had kissed you. A very stupid grin spread across for your face for a moment, before you saw him still backpedaling and panicking. You grabbed his arm and made him face you again.

“Ronar!”

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. We can just pretend that never hap--” You stopped him by smacking your hand over his mouth.

“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked, your voice suddenly gone soft.

He stared down at you for a very long moment, you could see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the potential fall out for every answer. That feeling you certainly understood. But finally, thankfully, he nodded.

A smile broke out across your face. “Then shut up and kiss me.” 

Ronar’s eyes went wider still, but he edged the final half-step towards you. His hand traced from your shoulder down to your elbow, your waist. Achingly slow, as if he was worried that he’d somehow spook you, his head dipped down towards you. Finally, your lips met in the kiss you’d spent years dreaming about. And it was better than you’d ever dreamed.

It started gentle, testing almost--wading slowly into this new world you both had apparently been wanting to venture into. But surely, you both relaxed into it, familiarity turning novel in the best way. His hands drifted back to your waist, but quickly slipped around to draw you fully into his arms. You traced your tongue across the seam of his lips, and they opened for you eagerly. The kiss immediately turned deeper, more demanding.

You finally gave in and caught that lucious bottom lip of his between your teeth. He let out a low throaty moan that would fuel your imagination for weeks and picked you up, holding you tight against him. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as your fingers threaded through his thick, dark hair. 

Dimly, you were aware that Ronar was carrying you through the apartment, making a beeline for your bedroom. Good. Any other destination and you might have had to stop kissing him. As it was, you didn’t stop as he kicked the door open, you didn’t stop as he sat down on your bed, and you didn’t stop as you pressed him back onto the mattress--ending up on hands and knees over him but still kissing.

He pulled you flush against him when he sat up after a minute. You hadn’t had a chance yet to change out of the dress you’d worn to work, so when he sat up you definitely noticed that he was already half-hard inside his slacks. Since he’d responded so well to your nibbling, you pressed your luck and ground against him. He groaned, and his hands moved down from your back to squeeze your ass. Oh gods yes.

Then he broke the kiss. “Is this… actually happening?” he asked, looking wide-eyed at you. You were both panting.

“Dear gods, I hope so,” you answered, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to his tusk and then down along his jaw. He melted momentarily under your attentions, but pulled back again far too soon.

“Do you… want this to happen?” His brows were drawn together in concern, and you could see more than a little trepidation hiding in his eyes. Your heart melted all over again.

You nodded and cupped his cheeks. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Despite the world-ending makeout you were halfway through with him, the confession came out a bit bashful. “I want you. All of you.”

A smile broke out across his face along with a breathless laugh. “I-- I thought it was… was just me.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“We’re both idiots, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly before he kissed you again, more exuberance than passion. But it was so wholly Ronar that you couldn’t help but love it. His hands drifted down to the hem of your dress and tugged upon it. 

“Take this off then?” he asked, his voice gone just slightly rough.

You rested your arms on his shoulders, fingers twirling through his hair. “What’s the magic word?” you replied, smirking just a little.

He let out a half chuckle, half growl that shot straight to your core and was just entirely unfair. “Take this off now,” he ordered, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, kneading the flesh slightly. 

“Bossy,” you quipped as your toes curled. But you grabbed the hem and pulled the dress off in one fluid motion, tossing it away. His gaze swept over you, and he blew out a long, slow breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it,” he finally said, eyes meeting yours now. “Damn beautiful.”

You would have laughed, but he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat that somehow sucked all the air out of your lungs, out of the room, out of the world maybe even. His kisses trailed slowly south as his hands moved north from your thighs--squeezing your ass again, apparently he was fond of it--up your back to pull at your bra strap. Gods, yes. You were so eager to really get this party started. But he paused half-way through.

“Is this--” he started to ask.

“Yes!” You interrupted enthusiastically. He grinned and started to lean back towards you for more kisses. You noticed then that you were about to be nearly naked, and he was completely clothed. He kissed around the edges of your bra as you felt him undo the main strap. Somehow, despite his wondrous distractions, you unbuttoned his shirt, stumbling a little on the last few as he slipped your bra off your shoulders. 

“Take this off,” you said, tugging on his shirt and not letting him pull your bra the rest of the way off.

“Now who’s bossy?” But he let go of you long enough to unbutton the last button and toss his shirt the way your dress had gone. You’d seen him shirtless a few times before, and it’d always made you weak in the knees. Thank goodness you were already sitting as the hard-packed muscle under deep emerald green skin came into view. You threw your bra off and ran your fingers through the smattering of dark hair in the center, taking in as much of him as you could in a long, quenching gaze.

“You look like you want to eat me,” he said in a quiet voice, half a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. You simply raised an eyebrow in response and thoroughly enjoyed the surprise that washed over his face followed by a low groan. “Why in the seven hells did I not say something five years ago?” 

You pushed him back on the bed, kissing up his throat and jaw to catch the pointed tip of his ear between your teeth. His hands gripped your ass again. “Because we’re idiots, remember?” you purred into his ear. 

“Right, I forgot.” Tracing your tongue over his ear made him murmur your name, fingers still kneading your flesh. Dipping down you indulged in another long held fantasy, biting his neck--not hard enough to even bruise, just enough to not be a kiss. He let out a toe curling growl and then unceremoniously, pushed you off him and abruptly stood up. You might have been worried that you’d somehow done something wrong if he hadn’t immediately started pulling off his pants.

They were about halfway down his hips when he noticed you looking, admiring really. He grinned. “Enjoying the view?” 

You would have had a quip, you always did, if he hadn't dropped his pants right then, gifting you with the stunning view of All of him for the very first time. Very proportional, wonderfully toned, sweet-merciful-gods-was-he-actually-just-sculpted-from-marble All of him.

“Fuck,” you managed, staring wide-eyed.

He was so beautiful when he laughed. He was even more beautiful as he prowled up the bed towards you, intention burning in his eyes.

“Are you always commando under your work pants?” you asked, physically having to pull your eyes away from him for a moment.

“Does it turn you on if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

He cupped your face and gave you a look that made you know his answer was going to be snarky. “Sorry to disappoint you, I’m just between laundry cycles.”

You sighed and shook your head. “A crushing blow.”

He kissed your cheek. “How will you survive it?” Then your jaw. 

“Barely, but elegantly.” Your ear. Your neck. Words were… more difficult, but you pressed on. “They’ll… they’ll make a Lifetime movie about me. Your aunt will want to watch it.”

He paused his trail down your body to grin up at you and laugh in his throat, affection in his gaze. Then he resumed his frankly miraculous work, settling down on his stomach before burying his face into your breasts with a contented sigh. For a long moment, he just remained there, kissing softly, his breath sliding across your skin. Then he lifted his hand and took your breasts gently in hand. He rolled the soft flesh under his palms, circling thumbs over your nipples. His expression was utterly enraptured.

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like, felt like for years,” he said in an nearly apologetic tone. Your response was cut off when he captured a nipple between his lips and suckled, before nipping ever so lightly, making you jolt up and gasp in response. 

“Fuck, Ro.”

“Not yet. I want to savor this.” He punctuated his sentence by running his tongue from one breast to the other, making a very undignified whine come from the back of your throat.

“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”

He answered by taking the other nipple in his mouth and sucking soundly while looking up at you. Damn, that should be illegal. Then he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. “You love it.”

Your fingers threaded into his thick hair, and, in lieu of saying something terribly honest right now, you pulled him back up for a bruising kiss. He settled down next to you, and his fingers plucked at your underwear.

“You mind if I take these off?” he asked, running a finger just under the band.

“Please.” And finally the final barrier between you two was removed. He caught you in a deep kiss, tongue caressing over yours artfully, as the tips of his fingers traced up your inner thigh. His hand cupped you, making you groan into the kiss--it’d been so damn long since it was anyone else’s fingers down there but yours. Much less anyone that you’d wanted like him. Then he parted your folds, both of you sighing as he discovered how wet you already were. His forehead rested on your temple as he carefully mapped you, skimming and teasing and making you whimper all at the same time.

He started indirectly, taking the undulations of your hips and soft cries as guidance for how you wanted to be touched. You gripped his arm, curling in towards him. Gentle yet insistent, his fingers circled your clit, building sparks of pleasure that were quickly catching flame. But still, it wasn’t quite enough.

“Ro, please,” you whimpered, pressing a needy kiss to his jaw. “Please. I--I want you inside me.”

He shifted his hand so a thumb was pressed to your clit and you sighed a long breath as he slipped one finger inside you, thick enough to feel filled with just that. Still--

“Not what I meant,” you huffed, rocking your hips to set a tempo.

He chuckled and kissed your hair. “I know what you meant. We’ll get there. But I want to see you cum first.” You looked up, meeting his intense, hungry gaze. “I want to know that I was the one who made you feel that good.” That made you clench around his finger, and he sped up the pace a little more. 

You were so close already, you could feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. And though his plan sounded pretty damn good, you wanted to do something first. You wrapped a hand around his heavy cock that was trapped between you, and he groaned. 

“Cheater,” he hissed, his hips bucking as his fingers stilled.

“You knew this already. You’ve played Battleship with me.”

“Longest Sunday of my life.”

In retaliation, he added a second finger inside you and pressed against your front wall, distracting you thoroughly from anything else other than his wonderful fingers.

“Ronar,” you cried, your voice quivering as a shudder ran down your spine. Nearly there--

“That’s it. Cum for me, love. Please.” Somehow it was the ‘please’ that finished you off. Your orgasm shot from your core, cascading down your limbs, making you clench and let out an inhuman noise as you quaked. But Ronar was right there, holding you through it, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. 

Till eventually, you grabbed his hand, stilling his movements immediately. He kissed your temple again and slipped his fingers from you, just holding you as you panted and came back down to earth. Somehow in all your fantasies, you hadn’t thought about how wonderful this part would be. Afterglow felt very literal in his arms. Ronar was wrapped around you, his lips on your temple, his fingers tracing a mindless pattern across your hip. It was just so good. Eventually, drowsily, your eyes opened, and your hand skimmed up his arm. He was smiling when you looked up at him.

“Was that good?” he asked, honestly. “It looked good.”

You chuckled and nodded. “It was good.”

“Good,” he said, kissing you softly and pulling you closer. His hand slipped up into your hair as he kissed you, again and again, never rushed, never hurried. He was an even better kisser than he was a hugger or anything else. You thought for a minute that you could happily die here, just spend the rest of your days being kissed by Ronar and held in his arms. Till you shifted closer to him and you felt his still hard cock brush against your thigh. Ooh, right, you had better plans than even this.

You spread your legs just enough for him to slip between them, and he pulled back with a hiss. His breathing had just shifted to something deeper as he looked at you.

“Ready to go again?” you asked, smirking a little. Your hand trailed down his side to mimic his earlier actions across his hip, so close but not quite there.

He nodded. “Please. I want… you. I want you.” There was such earnestness in his eyes that you stopped teasing him for a moment, and, in fact, you had to kiss him for it. But the time for sweet and slow was over for now, this kiss was heat and desire and left you both breathless.

“How do you want me?” you asked between kisses you pressed along his jaw.

He pulled you on top of him and then sat up--the casual show of his immense strength was still toe-curling--putting you at eye level with him in his lap. “Like this?” he asked, a hand cupping your cheek. “I want to see your face.”

“Gods, Ronar…” You shook your head and laughed just a little. 

“What?”

“You! You’re just…” You struggled to find a word to encapsulate it all, but had to give up. “Wonderful doesn’t even begin to describe.”

His thumb stroked your cheek for a moment, then he added, “How about damn wonderful?”

That made you laugh as you kissed him again, your arms wrapping around his neck. He groaned as his length was trapped between you, but he just held you close. Then suddenly he jerked back.

“Crap, do you have any condoms? Or--or…” His eyebrows knitted together in worry. “I guess I can run down to the store--”

“Ro,” you said, stopping his worry spiral. “I’m on the pill, it’s okay.”

“Right.” He heaved a breath and offered you a lopsided smile in apology.

You chuckled. “You really think you could have fit back in your pants right now?” To emphasize your point, you took him in hand and circled your thumb over the head.

“It wouldn’t have been--shit, oh don’t stop--p… pleasant. But I’d do it for--” The sentence drifted off as you lifted yourself up on your knees, moving with obvious intent. 

Ronar’s eyes were wide and wondrous as he looked up at you, both of you hovering in the moment of anticipation. You memorized his face, never wanting to forget it at this exact second. Then you sank down upon him.

It was a slow process as even with your preparation, he was still larger than anyone else you’d ever been with and you weren’t looking for any painful sensations right now. But you found yourself slowing down even more just to watch the revelations wash over Ronar’s face. Pleasure looked perfect on him. 

It was more than a minute before he was fully inside you, your hips flush to his. He pulled you close, hands rubbing across your back as he murmured gentle half-phrases of encouragement and compliments. 

You took it slow at first, more rocking than anything else. Just focusing on every sensation that you were feeling right now--his hands on your back, his breath on your neck, his chest pressed to yours. Though you were going for barely a minute before he whispered, “Wait.”

You immediately stopped, meeting his gaze. “You okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “Just changed my mind.”

You didn’t have a chance to be concerned as he quickly lifted you up and set you back on the bed, leaning over you and kneeling between your splayed thighs. “Mind if I lead?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled. “By all means.”

He kissed you once more then guided himself back to your entrance, pressing in slowly and watching your face intently. But you were ready for him--desperate might have been the better word. When he was fully sheathed, you pulled him down so he was resting on his elbows. You were surrounded, protected, safe and adored under him. And as he rocked into you, a relieved sigh left you. His gaze never left yours as he built up a rhythm and you did your best to match it. But soon he out paced you, so you hooked your heels around his waist and let him wash over you. 

You couldn’t believe that this was finally actually happening. You’d wanted him for so long and now here he was--in your bed, between your thighs, looking at you like you were the world’s most beautiful sunset as he was driving you to your second earth-shattering orgasm of the evening. The waiting and the longing and the heartache just made it all seem so much sweeter as he dipped down to kiss you.

“Ronar,” you whispered, your voice tight with emotions and delayed gratification. “I--I--”

“I know, love.” He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closing and brows furrowing in concentration. “I’m so close. Can you wait for me?”

Your response was just a high-pitched whimper that quickly turned into a prayerful chanting of his name as his pace suddenly picked up. Your grip tightened on his biceps as he neared his peak and you were teetering on the edge of yours.

“Please, please, please, please,” you whined through gritted teeth.

He caught up to you with a kiss, sending you both over the cliff in each other’s arms. You shuddered and cried out as he spilled into you with a heavy moan. For a moment, everything  was radiant and glowing and perfect. It was just Ronar and you. Even as reality filtered slowly back in, the world was better than the last time you saw it, surely. It certainly felt like it was.

Ronar relaxed momentarily on top of you, and there was something deeply safe and secure about feeling the weight of his body on yours. His cheek brushed across yours, back and forth, for a minute, and he let out a deeply contented sigh.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, starting to pull himself up and off of you. 

“Don’t be. I love this.” And you pulled him back down. His arms slipped under you to hug you tightly, his face buried against your neck, tusks pressing against your skin.

You stayed like that for several minutes, his arms around you, your fingers tracing soothing patterns across his broad back and occasionally slipping up to comb at the ends of his dark hair. It was deeply peaceful there. Though the sound of some very angry hissing coming from the kitchen broke the quiet atmosphere.

“I think dinner might be ruined,” you said with a chuckle.

He lifted his head and grinned down at you. “We can always order something.” He carded his fingers through your hair. “Or I could, um… take you on that date I’ve been meaning to ask you to for a long time.”

A corner of your mouth lifted up. “How long?” you asked, intensely curious.

The deep green blush across his cheeks got a little darker. “Since the first time you rolled your eyes.”

“Wasn’t that like twenty minutes after we first met?”

“Approximately. Yes.” You would have laughed if you didn’t see how serious he was. Oh. He dipped his head to brush his lips across yours. “How about you? Or was it when I kissed you back in the kitchen?”

You shook your head slightly. “Remember back in junior year where we stayed up all night talking at the picnic table and then got donuts right when the shop opened at 4 am?”

He nodded.

“You had whipped cream on your cheek and bags under your eyes. And the sun was rising behind you. And that was it for me.”

Warmth bloomed in his eyes, and he smiled. “Guess I need to make up for lost time then. Can I take you out this evening?”

“Please.”

Masterlist

[Thanks for reading my first monster boyfriend! <3, mice]

[riotwritesthings]

Ode to Yoga Pants

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony

AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Title: Ode to Yoga Pants Collaborator Name: Riot Bucky Barnes Bingo Square Filled: K5, Team Dynamics StarkBucks Bingo Square Filled: O5, “I’d like it if you stayed.” Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: M Major Tags & Triggers: Mutually pining morons, humor Summary: OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun Word Count: 2,282

Here on AO3!

-

Tony is heading to the gym for Steve’s newly mandated team training time and yeah, he’s late, but he does have coffee. So at least he’s on brand.

It looks like everyone else has beat him here, which isn’t really surprising, and Tony tosses out a grin and wave in response to the unimpressed look Steve shoots him.

Then his eyes land on Bucky. Who is doing one armed pushups. Completely vertically, pointed toes up in the air and strands of hair falling loose around his face where it’s come loose from the hair tie. And he is in yoga pants.

They hug his calves, his ass, his thighs, tight black spandex with gray piping up sides and Tony is weak.

Forget team bonding, Tony needs to get out of here right now, before he makes a fool of himself. Except he spins too quickly, hot coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his fingers, and he’s so busy hissing over the sharp burst of pain that he walks straight into the door as it swings shut.

“Ack, fuck,” Tony gasps, more hot coffee splashing out across his hand, rubbing at his forehead and apparently he’s a little dizzy because he goes to take a step back and tilts to the side instead, bouncing off the wall.

He’s almost caught his balance, and then he trips over Sam’s stupid jump rope, and then his thighs hit the weight bench and he tumbles backwards over it, the last dregs of his coffee somehow ending up entirely on his chest.

“Damnit Wilson,” Tony grumbles, “I knew you were out to get me!”

There’s a soft chuckle from somewhere above him, and Tony pries his eyes open. He’s half expecting to see Sam, ready to defend himself and deny that he’s trying to kill Tony with workout equipment even though he very clearly is.

Instead it’s Bucky, leaning over him all shirtless and sweaty and concerned.

“You okay, doll?”

When Tony tries to speak all that comes out is a strangled gurgling sound, and Bucky’s concerned look gets deeper.

-

“Gross, they’re doing it again,” Sam complains, pausing mid situp to shoot a glare across the gym.

When Steve glances away from sparring with Natasha she takes the opportunity to pop him in the throat.

“This isn’t even funny anymore,” Natasha says while Steve coughs and hacks and gives her a dirty look.

“It stopped being funny weeks ago,” Rhodey says as he leans against the ropes of the boxing ring and shakes his head in disappointment.

“You’re just saying that because that’s when you were officially out of the betting pool,” Clint says with a snort.

“I really didn’t think it would take them this long,” he says with a morose sigh, “I’m ashamed.”

Steve makes a sound that might be agreement.

“New bet, how much worse can it possibly get?” Sam tries to joke, but he has a terrible feeling that it’s not a joke at all.

“I think we’re all the losers in that bet,” Natasha says as they all watch Bucky help a still clearly-swooning Tony out of the gym.

The poor pining morons don’t even notice they have an audience. Just like Bucky somehow doesn’t notice that Tony is literal putty in his hands, and Tony mysteriously doesn’t notice Bucky giving him the sappiest heart eyes ever.

It’s shameful, is what it is.

-

Tony lets Bucky drag him into the kitchen, sinks onto one of the stools when gently pushed in that direction, and he’s becoming uncomfortably aware that his shirt is still splattered with cooling coffee and probably clinging to his chest.

He should probably go change, and then maybe go hide out somewhere until he figures out how to deal with Bucky in yoga pants.

But before Tony can figure out how to convince his legs to actually move, Bucky is done digging around in the freezer and by his side again.

“Ow,” Tony says with an exaggerated wince as Bucky presses a bag of ice to the back of his head, and then nearly melts out of his seat when Bucky shushes him with a wide palm running down the back of his neck.

He’s not actually as rattled as Bucky seems to think he is, but Tony certainly isn’t going to correct him. It’s a much safer excuse than admitting his brain went to mush the second he saw Bucky’s thighs, all wrapped up and accentuated in tight black spandex, and it still hasn’t quite come back online.

From here, with Bucky standing beside him and gently holding his head still while Tony stares studiously at the floor, all Tony can see of Bucky is his foot. The tight black fabric ends just above the delicate bones of his ankle, his bare toes wiggling against the tile floor as he pulls the ice away and inspects Tony’s head.

Forget getting his brain working again, Tony is just trying to keep his stupid heart from crawling its way up his throat over ankles. Like some kind of repressed Puritan, Jesus.

Which means he can’t at all stop himself from nervously stuttering out “Those-those are uh, nice... you like yoga pants huh?”

There’s a vague sense of motion beside him, like Bucky is shrugging, as he says “They’re comfortable.”

“Uh huh, they-“ Tony starts to say, and then nearly swallows his tongue when Bucky steps around in front of him again.

His eyes automatically drag upwards, and it takes everything Tony has not to let himself linger, not to get caught staring at the frankly mouthwatering bulge of Bucky’s cock that his skin tight leggings are not doing a very good job of hiding.

He jerks his gaze up higher and it doesn’t help because oh god there’s Bucky’s chest, still bare and so close and by the time he finally manages to make himself look up at Bucky’s face he can’t breathe.

“They- uh, s-sure look it,” Tony stutters out, and furious blushing is totally a symptom of a concussion, right?!

Bucky’s smile stays warm and friendly, so he’s probably alright.

And all Bucky says is “You should try them! I can send you the site I got ‘em from, Nat recommended it to me.”

“Okay,” Tony squeaks and damnit he’s actually going to have to buy some yoga pants now. There’s no other way to play off his sudden fascination with them.

-

A week later, everyone has lost the bet.

They find the two morons asleep together on the couch, legs tangled and blankets wrapped around them both.

The entire team agrees it’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever seen.

-

Steve is taking his frustrations out on a punching bag when Bucky suddenly ducks behind the bag, grabbing it and holding it still so he can hide behind it.

“What is this, why are you doing this?” Steve demands, rhythm thrown and half-debating just punching the bag anyways in the hopes that it’ll shake Bucky loose.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses, like he somehow hasn’t noticed that he already has Steve’s full attention, “Steve, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s head pops out from around the punching bag, eyes fixed on something across the gym as he hisses “Tony bought yoga pants.”

Steve turns and sure enough, Tony and Natasha are standing near the sparring mats in matching black and gray patterned spandex.

“Does Nat get money every time she talks someone into buying those?” Steve has to wonder, because she has been relentlessly texting him the link too.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses again, “Steven. I can’t- how do I even- Steve-“

“What?!” Steve demands impatiently, because he really wants to go back to punching things, and not thinking about the awkward mating dance of his best friends.

“Look at his ass!”

Steve huffs and resists the urge to gag at the open reverence in Bucky’s tone. He does turn though, just in time to watch Tony bend over in a low stretch.

“Perfect little bubble, I just wanna bury my face in it and live there,” Bucky sighs.

“Huh,” Steve says, tilting his head a little to get a better view because damn, Bucky is not exactly wrong- “Ow!” He squawks when Bucky swings the punching bag into him, “you’re the one who told me to look!”

“Not like that!” Bucky snaps back. It looks like he’s considering hitting Steve with the punching bag again, and Steve holds up a single finger in warning.

“Do not,” he says sternly.

Bucky settles for just hugging the bag instead, gaze already drifting across the gym again. Steve has a terrible feeling he’s not going to get back to his workout.

“Please just ask him out,” Steve says plaintively, “pretend to act like a functional person.”

“How am I supposed to function when faced with The Most Amazing Ass Ever™️?!” Bucky demands, and then makes a weird whimpering sound as Tony no doubt does something. Like existing.

Steve refuses to look over, instead just sighing out “Get off my punching bag, you’re making this so weird.”

“I’m filin’ a complaint,” Bucky says, clearly not listening to him anymore and still staring with rapt attention at where Tony is apparently doing something fascinating. “These pants are supposed to be ‘super stretchy’ but they clearly did not count on boners cuz my dick is strangled.”

“Excuse me,” Steve says, already walking away, “I need to go vomit.”

Hell, next week he might skip mandatory team training.

-

Tony is laying on his stomach on the common room floor, propped up on his elbows as he pokes at his phone and kicks his feet lazily in the air.

He’s wearing bright red yoga pants today, and even Clint is not immune.

He catches himself after a couple seconds of staring at the swell and bounce of Tony’s ass, and gives himself a vigorous shake. That’s a good way to earn the Winter Soldier Death Glare.

Even if said Winter Soldier is too much of a disaster to actually do anything about his super obvious crush.

“So are yoga pants just the new thing?” Clint asks, climbing over the back of the couch and keeping his eyes safely on Tony’s face, because he does not want to be assassined to death today. “You’re just gonna wear them all the time?”

“They’re comfortable,” Tony says with an absent shrug, then grins up at Clint and wiggles his eyebrows as he adds “Plus, they make my ass look great.”

And Clint can’t exactly argue that, so instead he just flatly says “You’re going to give Barnes a heart attack.”

Tony looks confused for a split second, and then smiles widely.

“Because I pull them off so much better than he does?” he asks, striking a pose, and Clint seriously considers running away to join the circus. Again.

He’s not even sure if things will actually be better if they eventually get together at this point.

He should make that the new bet.

-

“I’m just saying,” Tony insists, and then raises his voice when Steve put his head down on the table and starts humming under his breath, “If I thought Bucky was actually interested, I would 100% be here for him. With open arms-“

“Well that’s actually kind of-“

“And open legs-“

“Tony-“

“And an open mouth,” Tony finishes, grinning and winking when Steve looks up at him with a glare.

“Tony, please, I don’t want to hear this,” Steve says, hands over his ears and he does actually look a little green.

“This is nothing,” Tony says with a scoff, giving Steve an unimpressed look, because he is weak. “You should hear the shit I say to Rhodey.”

“I would like to hear those things,” says a voice directly behind him.

Tony freezes, his entire body going cold, because he knows that low, warm, rumbling voice. He hears it in his dreams, and oh no oh no oh no, now Bucky knows.

So much for his plausible deniability.

His brain kind of goes staticy with panic for a second, and he’s only dimly aware of Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah my part in this conversation is done,” Steve says, and promptly bails.

When Tony’s brain finally reboots he finds that Bucky has taken Steve’s seat across the kitchen table.

Bucky is also just grinning at him, like he doesn’t find Tony’s borderline-obsessive crush at all creepy.

All Tony can think to say is “What.”

And then he realizes he doesn’t actually want an answer, doesn’t want to find out if Bucky is going to make fun of him, or if he thinks it’s all a joke. He can’t decide if that would actually be better or worse than being turned down gently, and he doesn’t intend to stay and find out.

“I’m just...” Tony sputters, face burning as he flails his way out of his chair, “Gonna- gonna go. Run away. Yep.”

“Wait,” Bucky says, eyes wide and halfway out of his own chair.

Tony freezes, because Bucky looks a lot like he feels. Thrown, surprised, confused and so hopeful that it’s terrifying.

“I-I’d like it if you stayed,” Bucky says slowly, then smiles crooked and nervous as he adds “Not that I don’t like watchin’ you walk away.”

It startles a laugh out of Tony, face flushing as he sinks back into his chair. “Okay,” he says, heart racing and smile almost painfully wide, “um, what?”

Bucky laughs, soft and low and warm, and finally finishes reaching across the table to take Tony’s hand in his own.

-

Clint wins the bet on how much worse their lives get once the love-struck morons start making out all over the place.

[captainjimothycarter]

I don't know if you're into this prompt but I thought you could maybe write your pain out of your body: Steve taking care of Peggy who's on a strong and painful period

I’m into just about every prompt thank you for suggesting this!! This is a good idea??? Let’s go modern au because if I went 40s/50s I will literally sit here and research every single detail.

--

“What’s this?” Peggy raised a brow at Steve, a frown on her lips as she looked down at items arranged on their kitchen table. Steve had gone out shopping today it seems and brought back just about everything one might need to survive a period.

They’d never discussed them, there wasn’t much to discuss when it came with her cycle beyond the fact when she did get them, Peggy was utterly useless for three days straight. As much as she tried not to be, to push herself to get up and go to work, to do something, other than holding a warm bottle to her stomach to try to alieve the pain. It was proved to her she had to rest or suffer the consequences later, despite how much she hated it.

“What does it look like?” Steve laughed, leaning into the counter. “There’s Rocky Road in the freezer, also picked up some of your blueberry yogurts. A few chocolate bars are in the freezer too,” He mused, counting off on his fingers on what he’d purchased for her. “Soups in the fridge too. Heating pad, hot water bottles, since you lost yours in the move, you were low on supplies so I got those too, I hope they’re the right kind. Uh….”

Peggy shook her head, stopping Steve in his track. She set him with a look and Steve stared. She wasn’t upset at him or frustrated. She looked between relieved and confused if he had to put a name to her look. “I’m thankful, very much so, Steven, but how did you know?”

Oh.

The blonde’s face lit up bright pink, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He looked down at the items across the table and picked up the bottle of Advil he’d gotten to stack it away on the end counter. “I could…smell it.”

The last he expected Peggy to do was burst out in a laugh, causing his face to grow even warmer. “I’m being serious, Pegs. With the enhanced senses, I could…smell it coming. Your scent changes – don’t ask me to explain it please.”

Oh, the poor thing. He was about as red as Anthony’s suit. Just a little bit more crimson if you asked her. Steve wasn’t embarrassed about her cycle, just as others she’d dated had been. He would run out to grab anything she needed, no matter the time of day if she asked. She didn’t need him to go into detail on how he knew beyond the smell. That was good enough for her.

“Well…remind me to thank Doctor Erksine once more,” Peggy teased, walking around the table to lay a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

--

Steve was right, not that Peggy was in any mood to admit it. Being stabbed felt less painful than this twisting in her cut. She let out another painful groan and curled up on her side, dragging the heating pad closer to her.

She could hear Steve tsking as he took the pad from her and laid it over her shirt so it wasn’t directly against her skin. “Don’t give me that look,” He told her when she shot him one. “You’re going to burn yourself if you lay it directly on your skin. I know it hurts, darling. I know.” At least he sounded sympathetic, stroking her hair back.

The last Peggy wanted was to be touched, but she allowed it. She’d was trying to keep from snapping from Steve who was dancing around her, helping her with little things here and there. He’d even called out of work for her and told Fury he couldn’t attend a meeting because his girlfriend was hurt. Fury knew better than to ask questions and at this point, Peggy was ready to show him exactly why Steve needed to stay here.

She sighed as the pain passed, for now, the fourth intense cramp in under half an hour. Steve had done everything he could too. He’d woken her up when it first started and got her in a warm bath before changing their sheets. He’d gotten her, her favorite blanket and pajama set to sleep in. This morning he was there with coffee and breakfast, helping her eat.

He didn’t say a damn word when she cried into his shoulder from the pain and later, in the same breath cursed at him. Steve was a helper, a carer, and Peggy was grateful even if right now it ragged on her nerves because unfortunately, he was within her line of fire.

At least Steve understood that.

“Anyone else would’ve left by now,” Peggy told him the fourth night of this situation. She was feeling a little better, the pain had subsided for the most part and she could sit up without feeling too dizzy. Steve had started to work her on more solid food, given anything other than broth was making her queasy.

“Then perhaps it’s a good thing I’m not anyone,” he teased, picking up the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. “I’m Steve, in case you forgot.” The smirk was heard in his voice and Peggy rolled his eyes. “Besides, Pegs, I grew up in a time where men balked at the idea of a woman being on her cycle. Well, in fact, they still treat it somewhat the same as they do now, unfortunately. Just much worse, I suppose in some details. I grew up with my ma as a nurse and Bucky had three sisters, I think I know how to help someone during this time. You’re not the first to snap at me because I gave you the wrong blanket or your water was too cold.”

He gave her a look as he adjusted the blankets as if asking for the permission given she’d snapped at him earlier today for it. She nodded and he smiled as he brought the blanket around her shoulders. Cupping her cheek, Steve dipped his head to press his lips to hers in the softest of kisses. “Like I said I’m yours. I’m going to help you. You’re miserable during these moments and what kinda man would I be if I didn’t take care of you when you’re hurt or sick?”

“A typical one,” she sighed, making Steve pout. “But not mine, I agree. Thank you, Steve. Let’s hope…I don’t have to return the favor because I’ve heard I make a terrible nurse.”

[voidingintotheshout]

December 2nd: Two Sizes Too Small

“Gavin’s annual 12.12 Halloween party is starting in a half an hour babe, you just have to accept that you’re just not going to be able to fit into your Christmas suit this year.” Every year for Gavin’s annual party that was on December 12 every year, regardless of where that date fell on the calendar, Trevor would wear a pinkish-red suit with understated pastel green accents that always served to highlight all of the time he had spent at the gym. Unfortunately, over the last year Trevor had been spending more time at the dinner table, So that suit was far from fitting.

Jack felt a sense of pride and ownership over Trevor’s filled-out physique as his husband struggled to get his slim fit suit pants over his tree trunk thighs and seemingly ignoring the fact that even if he could get his pants up past his thighs, they were never going to be able to contain his thick, round ass. “I just don’t get it. It shouldn’t be this small. Are you sure you didn’t do something to it?”

Jack burst out laughing. “The only thing I did to that suit was feed you seconds at dinner every night. You have never looked hotter babe, but you need to accept that you have just gotten a little too round to be able to fit into that suit this year. You’re just gonna have to go in something else. Why don’t you wear those reddish orange pants you got a couple of weeks ago with your green polo shirt and you can throw on a red ascot, the one that you wore for your Valentine’s Day Cupid costume? The wild west themed one?”

“God, why don’t I just wear a red sweatshirt and green sweat pants. Maybe they’ll still fit.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. That other outfit I suggested will totally fit. Well, at least I don’t think you’ve gotten too fat for that ascot.”

Trevor laughed so bright & free that his laughter lit up the room. “Oh my God babe, would you stop?!?” Trevor said, throwing his hands in the air and frustration at his needling husband. In doing, so he was expecting the pants to fall down around his ankles but they were wedged tight on his thick frame.

“It’s time to give up on that suit. We need to leave for the party soon and we’re definitely going, because we’re bringing a dish.” Jack looked at his chunky, manly husband, belly spilling out of a shirt that had no hope of being able to fit. He was only able to get the buttons around his pectorals button and even then, the fabric was stretching quite a bit, below his sternum, the buttons weren’t able to come within two or 3 inches of each other and his jacket look like it would never be able to even get past his lovehandles, let alone be able to button. He had already complained last year when he had bulked up and gained a lot of muscle that the very thinly cut suit jacket was already starting to really constrict. That along with all the weight he put on this year, there was no way that jacket was going to get across his middle.

Jack saw his husband huff and puff ever so slightly as he struggled to get the suit off as quickly as possible. He sat there, in only a somewhat tight pair of underwear as Jack heard the timer in the kitchen ding, announcing their dish was ready. Brownies, à la mode. he looked guiltily at the kitchen and then back at his husband. “It’s OK.” Trevor said, sitting on the bed, slumped forward ever so slightly, hands on his stomach. I did promise to try one of your Brownies, à la mode before the party. I’m honestly looking forward to it. That suit is in the past. We can get another one that’s in my size for next year.”

You mean it?!? It’s okay?“

“Yeah.” He got up off the bed instructed towards Jack, eyes smoky with desire. “I was a big sexy man before when I had muscles and abs and I’m a big sexy man now with my extra size and curves. I know I’m sexy, you always make me feel that way. It’s just clothes. Now I’m going to get dressed while you take care of the food. That way, you can get dressed while you’re watching me eat my sundae.”

“Oh my God! I totally forgot to get myself ready! I don’t have anything as nice as what you’re wearing.” Jack seemed to remember some thing and rummaged around the back of the closet “I was going to give this to you soon, but I think now is a better time. I got you some underwear in the next size up so you’ll have a little bit more room under what you’re wearing. I hope you’re not mad.”

“I’m guessing you were waiting until I figured out that I’ve been fattened up?”

“Fattened up? I don’t know what you—”

“Come on. All the fattening food? Always bringing me snacks and desserts? I figured out what you were doing,  but I liked being pampered and I found that I didn’t mind putting on weight… but being reminded of how much weight I’ve put on, can be tough sometimes. Besides, I already have the perfect thing for you to wear at the party. Nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you. You’re going to be the talk of the party.”

Jack’s eyes grew wide as he looked at his sexy, thick husband, grateful that their daughter was with relatives so they could just focus on getting ready. “Am I going to regret agreeing to this?”

“I hope you don’t regret it any more than I’m going to regret asking for a double portion of that sundae before we even leave for a party that is going to be buried in food.”

“I see a belly rub in your future.“

“You better. Because I see a belly in my future.”

“Future? I see a belly in your present!” Jack said, and motioning to Trevor’s midsection.

“Bitch! How dare you imply that I am getting fat, now hurry up and get me that serving- platter- sized portion of dessert that I can wolf down before I spend the next three hours eating. The nerve.” Trevor muttered in mock-outrage as he grabbed his clothes for the party, including the larger size underwear which he smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of, as Jack made his way to the kitchen to get the food out of the oven before it became too dry, as well as the other things he needed to get ready for the party.

He pulled the two trays of brownies out of the oven. They were Ghirardelli’s Triple Chocolate brownies. He had to quadruple the recipe so that there were enough brownies for Trevor and the guests at the party. He let’s letting one tray cool on the oven with some tin foil loosely placed on top and from the other one, he cut a block of brownie the size of a paperback and grabbed one of the two gallon containers of vanilla bean ice cream from the freezer and put two generous scoops of vanilla ice cream on top. He then grabbed one of the two containers of hot fudge, microwaved it for about 20 seconds just to soften it and drizzled it all over the top. He smelled it and it smelled delicious.

He then turned to get ready. He put the unopened ice cream, hot fudge, walnuts, and the six-pack of their favorite beer into one of the bags and he left the uncut tray of brownies to cool on the stove. He took the tray of brownies that had the giant block cut out of it and wrapped it in tinfoil and put it in the fridge, making a note to encourage Trevor to eat more leftovers between meals to make some room. “I’m ready honey! I’m dressed! You need to get ready. We have to leave in five minutes. Even if we are fashionably late we still need to leave in 10 minutes and you’re not even dressed yet.”

“Coming!”

“Not till after the party. We’re running late.”

“Funny.” Jack grabbed Trevor’s pre-dinner dessert, needing to double back halfway out of the kitchen to get a fork with which he would eat it. There was a time in the future where it might get sexy to see Trevor eating with his hands because he was just so hungry but that day was not today. Jack brought the desert into the bedroom in there, on the bed next to his beautiful husband outfitted in a gorgeous suit, complete with the red ascot with Valentine’s Day hearts on it— was Trevor’s Christmas Suit. “What—what is this? You always wear this.”

Well, I’m glad to see that I’m still just as good an actor now as I was all those years ago back in college. I took one look at that suit two weeks ago and when I realized there was no way I was ever going to be able to fit my fat ass into that, but then I realized that you’ve been working out a lot and you now have the muscles to be able to wear that thing. While you were in the kitchen taking care of the food, I did a quick and dirty cuffing of the pants, to make up for the fact that you’re a couple of inches shorter than I am so the whole thing should fit you really well.”

“But it was always too small for me. I was never as toned as you.” Jack said, as the reality of their new situation dawned on him.

“It was, but you have been working out consistently over the last year as I have been, well, pigging out on your food. You are now the lean, trim one in the relationship and I’m becoming the fat one. I have so many amazing clothes in that closet that are made for someone with your exact physique and I don’t want them to just sit in the closet collecting dust until I eventually I donate them. I’ll feel a lot less bad about all of this weight that I’m probably going to be putting on over the next year if I know that someone is at least enjoying all of those amazing clothes that I’ve collected over the years. I want you to wear my Christmas suit this year and, probably next year because, if I can’t be the one everyone is staring at because I’m the hottest guy at the party, then I want everyone to be staring at me because of how lucky I am to have that hot piece of arm candy next to me. Now give me that damn dessert so I can eat it while watching you slip into that sexy suit.”

Jack watched as Trevor dived into the desert with gusto, a small way of saying that Jack should do the same and so Jack, fearlessly shucked his clothes and gingerly put himself into the Christmas suit which, did fit slightly differently, being more snug in some places and looser in others but it was a custom tailored suit with Trevor’s exact measurements in mind, but when Jack got dressed and looked at himself in the mirror, he was surprised that he didn’t see that chunky dude he remembered in the mirror. He saw a hot guy looking back at him.

He heard a fork clatter on a now empty plate and he glanced behind him to see his chunky husband using a finger to lick up the last of the chocolate sauce as he got up off the bed the stand near him at the mirror. “You’ve got to remember babe. I fell for you in that bar all of those years ago because I thought you were cute, the jelly roll around your waist didn’t matter any more than the jelly roll around my waist matters now. We love each other for who we are. I’m proud to have you be the one getting all of the stares and hungry looks because it makes me feel really good to have such an awesome and hot dude coming home to me every night. Think you’re you ready to go to this party? I just got a message that the Uber’s going to be here in two minutes.”

“I’m definitely ready. I’ll get the food, you get the doors?”

Good plan, I can’t eat doors on the way to the party.”

“Unless they’re made of gingerbread.”

“If only!” Trevor replied, laughing as they made their way into the kitchen to leave for the party.

[creative-poptart]

It didn’t take much for your emotions to go spilling over nowadays. The rational part of your brain knew that it was just the hormones that were in excess while you were pregnant. Despite knowing that fact, your emotional mind was going nuts over everything. 

Dropped a shoe? Frustration almost to the point of screaming. Lost your phone? Frantic, panicky blubbering until it was found. Favorite food in the fridge? You could kiss Papyrus for how sweet he was to make it in advance! It was, frankly, quite exhausting for you to go through all the emotional spectrum in less than twenty-four hours, and you just wished it would stop. Unfortunately, that wasn’t likely to happen until after you had given birth. Seeing as you were just over the halfway point at twenty-three weeks (and four days!), that marker of being reasonable in your emotions was still quite a ways off. 

On top of the fact that you were emotional, the twins had both been doing their part in making mobility and daily functions more difficult. Both looked healthy at their last doctor’s check-up, thought a bit larger for how far along you were in the pregnancy. This meant that bending over in any sense, be it to grab your shoes, put on pants, or pick up dropped items on the floor, was now an impossibility. The shortness of breath and constant bathroom trips were not pleasant either.

Just a little longer, and I can hold them in my arms, you thought to yourself, trying to will the shoe you were trying to put on to magically place itself on your foot. Just a few more weeks, and then all this will be worth the wait and all the stuff I have to endure.

A low chuckle sounded from behind you, and you turned to see your husband standing in the doorframe. The two of you had wanted to go on a walk together, you to stretch your legs and Sans because he legitimately wouldn’t let you walk anywhere by yourself now. You made a small pouty face at him, then gestured helplessly to your shoe on the floor. His grin stretched a bit at your motion, and something in you sparked up, something unpleasant.

“having a bit of trouble there, lamb chop?” he teased, not making any motions to help you with the shoe. “seems like your hands are a bit tied at the moment.”

That pun didn’t work nearly as well as it could have when you could feel yourself growing upset. You paused to take a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of frustration before it became an explosive anger. Sans seemed undeterred, and still wasn’t moving to help you out.

“you know, there’s an easier way to run with this than to just stare at the shoes,” he quipped, his grin only faltering a little at the fact that he wasn’t getting his usual reaction out of you. When he was met once again with stony silence, Sans took a small step towards you, hands coming up as if to gently pat your shoulder.

“uh, babe? are you okay?”

You didn’t know what possessed you in that moment, but you snapped.

“No!! No, I’m not okay!!” you practically screamed at him, flinging your hands up in anger. “I’m so tired and sore and bloated all the time, and I can’t get anything done, like putting on a damn shoe so I can go outside with you! And you’re not helping me because you’re just standing there and making puns!!”

Your tirade was short, but the moment you stopped speaking, you actually looked at Sans. His red eye-light was tight in its socket, his hands partially outstretched towards you, but now retracted to his body. His grin had entirely dropped into a look of shock with a touch of hurt as he just stared at you. Guilt instantly flooded your system, and you covered your mouth with both hands. 

You’d just yelled at Sans, one of the sweetest people you knew. He didn’t do anything to deserve the anger you were feeling, and you took a step toward him, trying to find the right words to apologize to him with. You spluttered, and he merely stood there, silent and watching.

“Sans, I-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, he shortcut away from you, his expression almost unreadable. Your heart began to ache in your chest immediately, and you started to sob into your hands, guilt switching into deep sorrow. You flung yourself carefully onto your couch, pulling a pillow to your chest and crushing it in hopes that you would squeeze the ache out that way. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time that Papyrus came home, but he came back to see you still crying on the couch.

“What Has Happened That Made You So Sad?” he asked after getting you some water and going temporarily into nurse mode. “I Mean, It Must Have Been Something Rather Upsetting To Get You To This State. What’s Troubling You?” 

The deep ache in your chest still hadn’t gone away after Papyrus came back. As you peered up into his worried expression, glasses highlighting the emotion in his eye sockets, you found the ache intensifying. In a heartbeat, you spilled what happened, all the stress of the day leading up to yelling at Sans and him leaving abruptly. You started to cry again as you explained, and Papyrus pulled you into a sympathetic hug.

“I just feel so terrible about it, Paps,” you sniffed, wiping at your eyes for the millionth time. “We’ve never had an argument, and I blew up at him for something so stupid and trivial! I couldn’t even apologize to him properly!”

“that’s okay,” a familiar voice rumbled from the corner. You turned your head so fast you almost got a neck cramp to see Sans standing off to the side of the couch. In his arms were a few grocery bags, a sheepish look on his face. Without hesitation, you jumped up off the sofa and rushed toward him, making him panic and drop everything in a panic to catch you.

“Sans, I’m so sorry!” you wailed into his chest, burying your nose into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, you didn’t deserve it! Please forgive me!”

“it’s okay, babe,” he responded as his strong arms held you tight, but not crushing you. “i should have explained what i was doing before i left too so that you wouldn’t get upset.”

You looked at him in confusion before looking down at the spilled contents of the bags on the floor. Several pints of ice cream had tumbled out, though none were broken in a way that would ruin the contents. If you were able to bend over, you would have more closely examined them, but Sans picked a few up for you and placed them in your hands. 

“it took so long because i kept forgetting what flavor was your favorite and was trying to find the right one,” he explained softly. “in the end, i just grabbed one or two of everything. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, but i remembered that paps had said you might like ice cream when you’re being more emotional than usual.”

Your soul warmed a little more in your chest, and you pulled him down into a soft kiss. Sans reciprocated happily, before pulling away to pick up the pints and stick them in the freezer. You trailed after him, taking two out of his hands and holding them up where he could see them. 

“I really am sorry, but would a movie and some ice cream help to sweeten the apology?” you asked timidly. Sans looked at you with a broad, relaxed smile, then planted a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“you were already forgiven, but sure thing, sugar,” he murmured back, making you giggle softly at the pun. Sure, your emotions were high, but as long as you had Sans, you knew things would turn out alright.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another installation in the baby series I’m writing for @popatochisssp!! This one has a tiny bit of angst with misunderstandings, but ice cream and cuddles can smooth anything over!

You can read part one, part two, and part three on each of the links!

Thanks for reading!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Señorita - Shawn Mendes (pt 2)

yall went crazy for my senorita imagine, thank you for the love you showed it, now im bringing you part 2!! im having an amazing time writing about bad boy shawn, not sure how long this will turn out  to be but i hope yall will stick with me during this journey! literally spent my last 24 hours writing it so i can bring the second part as soon as possible and im sooo excited about it!!

5k of angst, fluff and pure anxiety

ALSO for that nosy ass anon, i inserted a keep reading function, hope your life is happy now :)))))))))) (though its not showing on the app for me only on pc and this is why i dont fuck around with these kind of stuff)

part 1 - part 3

masterlist

Three days. It has been three day since you spent the night with Shawn. He promised to come by the diner the next day but he never showed up. By the end of your shift you were basically a nerve-wreck, hoping to find him leaning against his bike outside, but the parking lot was painfully empty.

You don’t even have his number. For fuck’s sake, you don’t even know if he has a phone! These three days just gave you a million opportunities to think about how stupid you were to fall for his games. He probably never thought of you as more than just a one night stand. It even crossed your mind that you might have just been a bet with his stupid friends and you willingly gave his victory to him. Anger, hatred, disappointment and regret fueled your body that night when he failed to show up as promised. You wanted to cry, scream and shout, but at the end you felt like it’s just… not worth it.

“Rosie, you know I love you, but I can’t keep up with my and your tables as well,” you tell your favorite co-worker once you are back in the kitchen and find her sitting on the counter top, scrolling through her phone.

“I’m sorry, but this is just blowing my mind,” she tells you, her eyes wide at the screen while you put the dirty dishes into the sink and start rinsing them off, something you always do to make the work of the kitchen staff easier.

“What’s so important that you can’t do your job?” you ask a little annoyed, but more curious.

“There was a huge scuffle downtown like an hour ago.”

“What?” you snap, your stomach immediately dropping. You squeeze yourself up to her side as she scrolls through the short news article. It doesn’t say much, only that the police was called because probably two rival gangs had a fight and someone heard a gunshot as well. Two guys were caught, but you know neither of them is Shawn because they would have already made sure everyone in town knows Shawn Mendes was caught.

“Damn it,” you mumble, your thoughts racing faster than ever.

You might be hating on the guy, but you definitely don’t want him to get hurt. That gunshot makes your stomach churn when you think that the bullet might have ended up in him for all you know.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Rob’s voice makes both of you jump as he stares at you in disbelief. His mouth in a disapproved grimace under his rather disgusting mustache, his hands on his hips. “I’m not paying you to chit-chat in the kitchen. Get out and do your job!”

Rosie and you rush out, leaving the steamy kitchen behind as you quickly start pretending like you are so busy with work, just until Rob disappears in his office again, not giving a flying fuck about what’s going outside.

You take some orders and bring out some drinks before going back to the kitchen to hide behind the fridge. Pressing your back to the wall you slide down and hug your knees to your chest, not able to get Shawn out of your mind. The painful inertia is just killing you, not even knowing where he is and if he is okay.

Your mind leaves your body by the end of your shift. You keep messing the orders up and you can’t stop apologizing, but you just couldn’t get Shawn off of your mind and you hate him for that. The thought of going to bed seems like heaven to you when you arrive to your house. You slide your key into the lock, but you notice the door is not locked and you freeze.

Can it be that you forgot to lock the door this morning? You were pretty tired, it would make sense, but it’s not something that has happened before.

Reaching into your bag you grab your pepper spray, ready to defend yourself against anything that’s waiting for you inside. You slowly open the door, walking inside as quiet as possible, holding the spray up as your eyes scan the room. Nothing seems to be odd, Gordon walks out of the bathroom so calmly that he almost convinces you there is no one else in the house, but you’re still not sure about that.

Brushing himself against your leg he purrs for you before moving to the couch and curling up on one of the pillows. You are just about to believe that the place is clear when you hear a noise coming from the bathroom.

You glance at Gordon as if he could tell you what it was, after all he just came out of there and didn’t seem to be bothered. You make your way towards the bathroom, still holding the spray up. Pushing the door open you step inside and suddenly a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Fuck!” you scream, your finger missing the top of the spray and you even drop it, almost pissing your pants.

“Hey, it’s just me!” you hear a familiar voice but it can’t stop your body from shaking like a leaf.

You finally make Shawn’s tall figure out in the dark, his large hands taking yours as he pulls you closer to him and you let him do so.

“Shit, Shawn!” you gasp on the verge of tears. You’ve never been more scared for your life. His arms wrap around your body as he holds you tight, your face pressed against the hot skin of his chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispers gently stroking your hair as you slowly calm down, recovering from your heart-attack.

Once you are back, mind and body functioning again you firmly push him away from you, letting your frustration explode out of you.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” you snap at him, but your anger quickly disappears when you see his face turn into a painful grimace as his hands cover his ribs on his right side, close to where you just pushed him. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?” you panic, quickly reaching for the light switch.

You can’t believe your eyes when you see the huge bruise on his side. It’s as big as his hand twice and the colors are not too promising either as his skin is painted in blue, green, purple and red making up a galaxy-like patch on his torso.

“Shit, I think it’s broken,” you gasp taking a better look at it.

“It’s alright, I just need some ice on it,” he breathes out, trying his best to cover up his pain, but you see right through him.

“Come on.”

You pull him out of the small bathroom, making him sit on the couch. Gordon eyes him curiously as he holds his hand to his side while you jog to the fridge. You grab the icepack from freezer and return to him, kneeling down in front of him, gently peeling his hand off of his wound.

“How did you even get into my house?” you ask as you gently put the icepack to his side and he hisses from the sudden feeling.

“Keys under the flowerpot? Pretty predictable,” he smirks at you between two grimaces as his hand takes up your hand’s place on the pack and he holds it to his side. You mentally note to look for a better hiding spot for your spare key.

“And what were you doing in the bathroom in the dark?”

“I uh… I wanted to lay down in the bathtub, hoping it would feel nice and cold.”

“But I don’t have a bathtub.”

“Yeah, I figured it out right when you got home.”

Leaning back on the couch he keeps his eyes closed and you’re not sure what you should do now. Should you kick him out? Or ask what the fuck happened in the past few days? You realize you are not even in a real relationship to question him about his whereabouts.

Standing up you are about to go to the kitchen for some water maybe when his eyes pop open and grabbing your hand he pulls you down next to him.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water?”

“No need for that,” he smiles at you tiredly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, trying to make you cuddle to his side that’s not beaten up, but you move back. “What’s wrong?”

“Shawn, you can’t just appear after days and pretend like nothing really happened.”

“Are you mad because I disappeared?”

He tries to pull you back to him, but you need space. You hop to your feet and he follows you, putting the height difference to your list of anxieties. You can’t think straight when he is towering above you with his defined jawline and hazel eyes.

“You disappeared, got into a fight and then broke into my house bruised up, expecting me to just pretend like it’s normal. It’s not normal for me, Shawn.”

“I know,” he sighs and for the first time you see him anxious, though he is doing a good job hiding it. You almost missed it. “And I’m sorry. I really am.”

His fingers brush against your cheek, leaning closer his nose touches your forehead and you are determined to avoid looking into his eyes knowing well you’d just get weak.

“Shawn, I can’t do this,” you say, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Do what?”

“This. You and me. It’s just not working, okay?” Taking a step away from him you lose physical contact with him as he stands there, staring at you a bit confused.

“How do you know it’s not working if you don’t even give it a chance?”

“I gave it,” you snap, finally finding the courage to look at him. “That night when I was at your place, but it went to nothing when you disappeared for three days.”

“Y/N, I told you, that I’m sorry,” he repeats as if saying it again and again solves everything instantly. It’s obvious he has never had to work for anyone like this which kind of makes you proud of yourself, but you don’t let him know that.

“Saying that you’re sorry is not changing anything,” you tell him. “Not that anything should be changed, this whole thing was over before it could start.”

“Don’t say that!” he suddenly snaps, raising his voice. You’re quite taken aback from his reaction and it must be showing on your face because he quickly holds himself back, lowering his tone when he continues. “Don’t just give up on me so easily. Please.” Closing the distance between the two of you he throws the icepack to the side so both his hands are free to hold your face in them.

“Why don’t you give up on me?” you whisper feeling yourself reaching your breaking point. His forehead rests on yours, the physical contact is basically making you see sparkles.

“Because I know that I just can’t. I don’t know why. Please, just… give me one more chance.”

There is something in it when he starts begging. You don’t know if he is doing it on purpose or not, but it’s putting a spell on you whenever he says the magic word, please. Your brain wants to send him away, teach him a well-deserved lesson, but your heart takes over this time.

“Okay. But we need to lay out some rules.”

“Rules?” he asks, his face lighting up.

“Yes. And please, take them seriously,” you firmly say, wanting him to know that this is important for you.

“I will. Promise. Let’s talk about those rules, Señorita.”

  You make them clear and easy.

One, he has to let you know by the end of every day that he is alright. For this you finally exchange numbers, which just feels ridiculous if you think about how this should have happened at the very beginning if it was a normal relationship. You don’t ask for much, just a text is enough, the best if he comes by the diner, but you can’t expect him to spend all his time around you.

Two, no more sneaking into your house. You just can’t risk attacking him because you think it’s an intruder.

And three… Be honest.

“I’m already honest with you, Y/N,” he says narrowing his eyes at you, not really understanding what you mean.

“Uhuh, like the other time when you said you didn’t know those guys who started the fight. They called you by name, I’m not stupid, you knew them.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh he presses his lips into a thin line. You push yourself up, looking down at his lying figure on your bed. His side still looks horrible, but he keeps telling it’s fine even though you are pretty sure his ribs are broken.

“There are some things that are best if you don’t know about.”

This uneasy, bitter feeling is back. You sit up, turning away from him. You were dumb enough to think that he wants to change for the better for you, but it seems like he is not willing to leave his lifestyle back anytime soon.

“What did I say this time?” he sighs pushing himself up, wincing a little at the movement.

“Nothing,” you mumble, making your way into the bathroom. You pray he doesn’t follow, but you are out of luck. As you grab your night shirt you see him in the mirror, appearing behind you.

“Y/N, honesty goes for both of us. What’s gotten you upset?”

You refuse to look at him, just take your shirt and pants off, acting like he is not even there. You sleep in an oversized t-shirt, so you just throw it on and then take your bra off from under it. You see the smirk on his lips from your little maneuver and you know he is aching to comment on how he has seen everything under that shirt, but you’re glad he keeps it to himself.

“Y/N, please answer!” He turns you by your chin to face you and you are just silently fuming, not wanting to give the words into his mouth. “Baby, what did I do wrong this time?”

Why does he has to be so persistent? You know he is not letting it go and it’s obvious you are not getting out of the bathroom until you tell him what he wants.

“I just thought that you are going to give up all that dangerous stuff.”

You expect him to laugh at you. You feel ridiculous, so you are sure he thinks the same of you, but instead, his eyes soften at you as his hands slide down your side and to your waist.

“It’s not that simple,” he sighs, his voice laced with guilt. “I’ve tried to leave it all behind. Many times, but it’s not that easy.”

“But you can try at least,” you growl at him crabbed, taking a step back from him as you lean your back against the cold wall.

He stands there, clearly torn between two worlds. You hate giving ultimatums to people, it’d piss you off if it would be you on the other end, but Shawn seems to be calmer than what you expected. You could almost see the little devil and angel on his shoulders, whispering into his ears and you realize you are putting too much pressure on him. You can’t redeem the world in one day and he already agreed to a lot of other small things. Change doesn’t come over night.

Pushing yourself away from the wall you step closer to him, your hands slide up his chest to the base of his neck, the silver necklace rolling under your touch.

“I’m sorry, I was being greedy,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his. “I have to be more patient with you.” He closes his eyes, arms around your body and you swear he is sniffing you, but you let it pass.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better. For you,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowed. Your lips brush against his and he quickly kisses you before another word could be said.

You moan into his mouth once you feel his tongue against yours. His fingers tangle into your hair and he starts to push you slowly right until your back hits the wall again. When your hands wander down on his naked torso you make sure not to hurt him around his wounded side, but it’s a little hard to contain yourself when his lips are traveling down on your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your heated skin.

Desire is burning between your legs and you just want to forget about everything that happened today, but you both know Shawn is not fine enough physically to deal with your endless lust right now.

The kisses slow down, panting echoes in the small bathroom as you try to catch your breath.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” you whisper, barely finding your own voice. He nods and you tangle yourself out from him.

Lying on the bed you curl up to his healthy side as he wraps his strong arms around your figure, his thumb repetedly caressing your shoulder as you listen to his steady heartbeat.

“Shawn?” you speak up after a while hoping he is not asleep just yet.

“Mmm,” he hums as a reply.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

His fingers stop for a few moments before he holds you tighter to his body, kissing into your hair.

“I’ll try.”

“So, I haven’t seen Mr. Danger around here lately.” Rosie arches an eyebrow at you while you are counting the fat tip you just got, tugging it away into your apron’s pocket.

“Who?” you ask, pretending not to know who she is talking about, but Shawn’s handsome face immediately pops up in your mind, almost making you smile.

“You know who I’m talking about,” she gives you a look as she fills up three cups with lemonade, but she keeps looking out for Rob. Apparently, he told her that she is skating on thin ice with her working attitude and needs to put more effort into her work if she wants to keep receiving her paychecks.

“Why would he come here?” you keep up the act.

“Oh, cut the shit, Y/N. What’s up with him, have you talked lately?”

You sigh, giving in, not wanting to torture her any longer, but just when you open your mouth the door of the diner flies open, the small bell rings in warning and you both turn just in time to see Shawn walk in, his usual leather jacket on, hair perfectly messy from probably riding his bike and he unhurriedly takes his aviator sunglasses off, his eyes lazily looking around the place until they find you and a smug smile plasters across his face.

“Holy shit,” you hear Rosie mumbling under her breath and you show an elbow to her side, making her lose balance for a moment. She shoots you a look, but you shoot it back.

“Show your tongue back into your mouth,” you tell her as you walk out from behind the counter, meeting Shawn midway between the tables.

“Hey there, Señorita.”

His large hands immediately slide to your side, holding you firmly as you throw your arms around his neck, your fingers finding his soft curls at the back of his head.

“Hi,” you whisper as he leans down and kisses you softly, making you forget about everything else that’s around you in this moment.

“You hungry?” you ask as you lead him to his usual box.

“For you? Always.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, but you can’t push a smile down as you look down at him.

“Anything from the menu?” you ask, and quickly add: “I’m not on the menu.”

“What a pity,” he sighs. “Then scrambled eggs with bacon, please. When are you going on a break?”

“Um, in about twenty,” you say checking the clock across the wall.

“Perfect,” he grins at you as you turn around and go back to Rosie behind the counter.

You give the order to the kitchen stuff and face Rosie’s questioning and shocked face.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Um, you eyefucking with none other than Shawn Mendes, the Greek god of town.”

“Rosie, do you ever filter what you say?” you ask gasping. You definitely did not eyefuck him. Or… did you?

“Is this like an official thing now?” she asks following you into the kitchen as you grab a Corona from the fridge for table 4.

“Kind of,” you shrug, making it look like it’s not a big deal, but your inner self has been jumping up and down for days now, screaming in happiness.

“Okay, you are telling me everything on the way home,” she demands before disappearing from your sight, not even giving you the chance to protest.

Bliss. Utter bliss. This is how you can describe the past few days.

You can tell Shawn has been doing everything he can to make things work for you. He spent the night at your place a few times and when he couldn’t, he made sure to call you before you go to sleep, just asking you about how your day has been, genuinely interested in everything you had to say. You spent another day off with him yesterday, just lazily chilling in bed, watching movies and having some steamy and hot sex, which is kind of your favorite part every time he is over.

He refused to go to a doctor with his side though, said he has a cousin who’s a doctor and that he checked it out, gave him some pills and said it’ll be alright. You’re skeptical about that, but you didn’t want to start a fight about that. It’s starting to look better anyway and he is not wincing anymore when you accidentally touch it.

You still worry about him whenever he is away, not really knowing what he is doing and that’s just too troublesome for you, but you are learning to deal with your own dark thoughts.

You feel like a giddy teenage girl as you move around the diner, doing your job, but sneakily keep glancing at Shawn who has his eyes glued to you the whole time.

“I can’t work like this,” you sigh stopping at his table and he blinks up at you angelically, pretending to be the most innocent guy in the world.

“What? I’m not doing anything!”

“You are basically stripping me with your eyes,” you whisper leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You can feel eyes on you, some local women have been eyeing you enviously after seeing you and Shawn kiss, but you’re kind of enjoying it.

Yeah, bitches, take that! The town’s sexiest guy is all over me! You think to yourself.

“I’m sorry, but this skirt is just… making me feel things,” he sighs taking a good look at your work clothes. It’s a typical, light pink waitress uniform, the skirt might be a little shorter than the average, but Rob thinks that’s just bringing the tips in, so you don’t have anything against it. Apparently, Shawn shares the same thoughts as Rob, enjoying the view.

“I’m off in two. Wanna go outside?” you ask checking the time.

“Sure.”

You go back to the kitchen and grab your phone from the dressing room. You pull out the elastic from your hair, gently massaging your scalp where your bun was before.

“I’m going on my break!” you tell Rosie who is behind the register this time.

“Don’t want to hear moaning from the back, oh wait, maybe it might be hot. I like it, do what you want,” she smirks at you and you just give her a disapproving look.

“Filter, Rosie. Think about what you say before saying it!” you tell her walking away.

Shawn is already at the door, he opens it for you as the two of you walk out to the back of the building for some alone time.

His bike is parked by the wall, not far from the little bench you have there for those who smoke on their breaks.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into your neck, pulling you close immediately when you are out of the sight of the people on the road that runs in front of the diner.

“You mean in the twenty minutes that I had to work while you were staring at me?” you giggle, hands on his broad shoulders as you try not to moan from the way he is kissing your neck.

“Yeah. Hardest twenty minutes of my life.”

He backs you until you bump against the wall and he locks you there with his hands on each sides of your head. You hide yours behind your back as you blink up at him, biting into your bottom lip. His eyes are so much darker this time, lust burning in them as he takes his time looking you up and down.

“You are so fucking sexy, Señorita. You have no idea what you are doing to me.”

Desire laces through his voice, making your lower part catch on fire. Oh, how bad you wish you weren’t behind this building but home, in your bed, with no clothes on.

You tilt your head, your lips gently brushing against his arm, he smells like some kind of sweet cologne that you like so much. Pressing your lips to the inside of his arm you lightly suck on the thin skin, earning a satisfied moan from him, but it also throws him off the edge, dropping his hands to your waist and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

One of his hands travel up to the back of your head, holding you in place while the other wanders down to your butt, rolling your skirt up so his palm is touching your skin instead of the fabric of the dress. You blindly pray no one is around to see this, you wouldn’t want anyone else to see your almost bare butt but on the other hand you just don’t want him to stop.

The sound of a bike approaching makes you push him away, afraid it’s coming near you. You quickly roll your skirt back down, just in time. A redhead guy appears on a bike, similar to Shawn’s. You’ve seen him before, he is one of Shawn’s friends for sure, but his face is making your stomach churn, the expression is making you want to run because you are sure he has bad news.

“Brian, what are you doing here?” Shawn asks, one arm around you protectively. You hug his waist, eyeing the guy with suspicion.

“You need to come. Wade and his rats are at Connor’s, they are saying one of us beat Wade’s nephew up last night.”

“What?” Shawn snaps. “Everyone was at yours last night, it couldn’t be us.”

The mentioning of Wade Salazar makes you sick to the stomach. The guy is a walking criminal record, spent at least five years in prison by the time he turned twenty-five, the police has been trying to catch him for good for so long, but somehow he always slips out of their hands for the big stuff. The most serious thing they could convict him of is drug trading, but somehow he managed to get away with most of the stuff even in that case. You always knew Shawn is rivals with him, but you refused to think about him getting involved with such a monster as him.

“Yeah, try telling that to Wade,” Brian scoffs. “We need you, he wants to talk to you.”

“Don’t go!” you find yourself saying it before you could hold yourself back.

You feel Brian’s burning gaze on you, but you ignore it, only focusing on Shawn and his clenching jaw.

“Give us a sec,” he tells to the redhead and pulls you a bit farther from his friend.

“Shawn, please don’t go,” you beg, feeling the tears dwelling in your eyes. Something in you is just screaming to make you stop him.

“I have to. These guys are like my brothers. Wade wants to talk to me and if I don’t go he’ll rip off Connor’s place.”

You can see the guilt in his eyes and you know he would rather stay with you, but he is also too protective over his friends and there is nothing you can do about that.

“It’ll be alright, okay? I’ll smooth it out, no fight involved. I’ll be at your place by the time you get home.”

“You promise?” A hot tear runs down your cheek and his thumb catches it right before it could reach your jawline. He kisses you hard, holding your face between his palms as you grab a fistful of his shirt in your hands.

“I promise,” he whispers kissing your forehead before letting you go.

You watch him jog over to his bike, your knees are shaking as you see him get on it and start the engine. He glances in your direction one more time, giving you a promising smile as you try not to sob, before he and Brian roll out of the parking lot and disappear from your sight.

“Woah, you look like shit,” Rosie grimaces at you when you come back from your break.

“Thanks for the support,” you mumble. You managed make the signs of crying disappear from your face, but you are definitely not feeling better.

“What did the fucker do to you?” she asks, ready to go full tiger mode on anyone.

“Nothing. Can we just… work?” you request tiredly and probably for the first time ever, Rosie just nods without a word.

The rest of your shift feels like hell. You keep checking your phone if there is anything from Shawn and you find yourself staring at the door many times, hoping to see him walk in, but nothing happens. Thankfully Rosie decides not to question you about Shawn on the way home, she just hugs you goodbye, telling you to call her if you want company when she gets off the bus.

When you turn the corner and start walking down your street your stomach drops when there is no sight of Shawn or his bike anywhere near. As your last string of hope you pray he is inside, he just didn’t come with the bike this time though you know it’s impossible.

Opening the door the only thing you see is darkness. Gordon welcomes you with a lazy meow from the couch as he lifts his head up for your arrival. You can’t stop the tears from flowing as you shut the door behind you and collapse on the couch. Grabbing a pillow you bury your face into it, trying to suffocate your desperate sobs as Gordon sniffs you worriedly, not really knowing what you are doing. You reach to scratch his head gently as he stares down at you as if he is questioning if you are alright.

But you are not. Shawn promised to be here and he failed to show up again. It’s breaking your heart ten times harder than last time and you just don’t know what to do with the situation anymore.

Minutes pass by, your sobs come to a halt as you sit in the dark without moving, staring at the same spot on the floor. You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight not knowing where he is or if he is alright. Last time when he didn’t come you just gave up, but you don’t feel like you can do that again. You have to do something, you can’t just sit around and see if he ever shows up again.

You are going to find out where this Connor guy lives and go there yourself. Tonight.

[packsbeforesnacks]

Unbreakable Oaths || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Monday, May 25th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: The Outskirts PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: RIP Blanche Harlow, 1999-2020 WARNINGS: None.

Winn was lying on his back, in a small clearing in the woods near his home, sunlight casting shadows from the trees and onto his body. Meditation, all the latest psychological research showed, was effective in helping lessen symptoms of depression and anxiety in some patients. He wondered if the same was true for wolves. His stress levels, and his temper, were well-managed things. The easy-going, affable version of himself that he presented to the world — that was him. So, then, why, with Salva, had he…? Had he thought he could... kill. Winn didn’t have answers, none he liked. What he did have was standing plans with Blanche to spend part of Memorial Day “training.” Blanche needed to see a werewolf, up close, to see the shift, to see the movements of his body, to get a real sense for what she could be dealing with. She wasn’t a Hunter, not by a long shot, but every scrap of information she took in could prove useful if she ever found herself facing down the maw of another wolf. The best way, Winn figured, was the old-fashioned way, mock-fighting against him safely. So Winn needed, for both of their sakes, to be safe, to be calm. He’d already lined this up with his powers at their lowest. But, more than some, Winn knew things could go wrong in an instant. As Blanche approved, his ears perked up. But he didn’t rise. Not yet.

What a way to spend a part of Memorial Day. Blanche almost canceled on Winn. She almost told him that it was a bad idea, that she shouldn’t be trying to fight him off, that it was dangerous… But it was Winn, and she had seen Ariana shift at the beach to fight off that damn lobster. Honestly, it would be nice to blow off some steam. With Bea’s death, with Nell… Blanche had parked her car outside of Winn’s house, before hiking to the small clearing where Winn told her to meet him. Exhaustion clung to her, and she knew she would spend the better part of the night looking for any sign that Bea’s soul decided to stick around. There was nothing so far. And that was probably the most frustrating. Blanche squinted, coming through the trees as she concealed a yawn. “Winn,” Blanche called. Her tone was flatter than normal, and Blanche almost winced, trying to make her next words sound more enthusiastic. “What gives? Are we going to take a nap?” Actually, a nap didn’t sound bad.

The first thing that Winn noticed about Blanche was that she looked… tired. Guilt panged in his heart. He knew things with Adrien had been bad, but they’d talked about that, so… What new horror had this fuckin’ town decided to pull on Blanche? Winn stood, stretching out his still-human body and rolling his neck. Whatever had happened, he knew she’d open up slowly, so he went for the obvious ribbing: “You look like you need a nap, B. Hope you’re ready to get movin’! This ain’t your mama’s gym class.” Winn hesitated, a half-smile frozen on his face, considering… Safe. This was supposed to be safe. But… Would Blanche had even come if she wasn’t ready to do this? Probably not; they’d never had a problem cancelling this little dance party before, one thing or another popping up and throwing a wrench in their weekends. “I was takin’ a little doze in the sunlight, gotta get my beauty rest, after all.” He let the half-smile turn to a full one. “Alright, so, I’m gonna start you off… simple. Let you get acquainted with the wolf, sorry in advance for the sniffin’. Then, when you’re ready, we can move on to you tryin’ to land a blow on me, while I’m movin’... After that, well, maybe I’ll try to trip you up or somethin’, but I don’t want my claws anywhere near ya, dude, and neither do you. Just watch me and everything’ll go smoothly.” Hopefully.

“Watch it, my mom goes to jazzercise, and those bitches are mean,” Blanche responded automatically. She rolled her shoulders back, feeling them pop and ache. She’d been sleeping in Nell’s greenhouse for way too long, with what little sleep she was getting anyway. Blanche took a look at him a moment, considering. “You sure you don’t need a few more minutes in the sunlight for that beauty rest?” Blanche said. She was trying. At least she was trying. She needed to do something. Maybe this wasn’t it, but as Winn beamed at her, she wasn’t sure she could say no. It would be fine. “Good thing I showered before I came. You’re going to sniff me?” Blanche asked, raising an eyebrow at him, mildly amused at the thought. But she nodded. “Yeah, I saw one of you guys shift at the beach the other day when a karkinoid got a little too close to comfort. Don’t worry, I’m prepared.” Blanche would be lying if she said she wasn’t ready to watch Winn like a hawk. She had been a little too hypervigilant these days anyway. She doubted she’d even be able to land a real hit. What was she going to do? Kick him?

“Jazzercise,” Winn said, cocking an eyebrow at Blanche’s easy mention of her mother. Odd. File that away for a later conversation, if it actually meant anything. “Pretty sure some of the PTA moms go there, so, like mean bitches is, uh, accurate.” He shuddered, as per usual, at the thought of those women. It wasn’t that they were, like, the worst. Just the worst thing he had to routinely deal with. One good thing ‘bout the summer. “And, like, the sniffin’ just… happens, okay? Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s a wolf thing.” Speaking of wolf things… “Wait, who’d you meet on the beach? I might know ‘em. Don’t know all the wolves in town, but it don’t hurt for me to know more.” Instead of waiting for Blanche’s answer, he turned his back to her and let the shift come on. Closer to the new Moon, Winn felt the ache of it more. The ways in which his body was growing, adjusting to the beast within him. He stared at Blanche when he was done, waiting patiently for her to make the first move.

And there was the wince when Winn mentioned the PTA. Her mom was a PTA mother. Probably a bad thing to joke about, but she wasn’t wrong. The PTA moms were mean. Her stomach twisted a moment when she thought of Linda Quinn, the other star mother, and she had to shake it off. Maybe, Blanche decided as she remembered the horrible things Rio had shown her, all PTA mothers were evil. She sucked in a deep breath, and tried to focus on what Winn was saying. “I think you just like my scented body wash,” Blanche folded her arms over her chest, grinning. Oh, wait, she could tell Winn who she met. “Yeah, you do know her. It’s Arian—ah.” Blanche trailed off as Winn shifted. Well. There it was. She took an automatic step back as her eyes narrowed. Winn was less likely to attack her, but Blanche couldn’t believe Winn wanted her to just waltz up to him and punch him in the snout. And she sort of felt a little ridiculous. This felt a little ridiculous! Kaden and Adam would have simultaneous strokes if they knew they were doing this. That was fine by her, she supposed. “Okay…” Blanche said, slowly, “I’m going to try to hit you now.” It was fine. They didn’t have to find out. On the balls of her feet, Blanche jerked forward and really did try to punch Winn in his werewolf face.

Aaaand a miss. Winn hadn’t been expecting to take it on the snout, not with Blanche’s first punch anyway, but… well, he might have more work to do here than he thought. The wolf was front and center — calm, but mostly because it didn’t sense any threat from Blanche… at all. C’mon, brain, give her more credit than that. Maybe they should’ve started in human form? Get Blanche comfortable punchin’ Winn’s face before askin’ her to aim at the beast. But, well. They were here now, and Winn wasn’t gonna change back until he could get back to his house and tell B to cover her eyes. There were just things that you didn’t want your more-or-less-sister-figure to see. Okay. He’d stay… still. He wouldn’t move. He’d just let him hit her. It literally wouldn’t hurt. The wolf grumbled, unhappy with even being hit at all, but Winn powered through. He approached Blanche, slowly, so slowly. There was no way she could miss.

This was a goddamn waste of time. Blanche realized that as soon as they started. She wasn’t opposed to kicking the crap out of something, but this wasn’t it. She was too tired to be trying to punch a werewolf in the face. She wasn’t a hunter, this wasn’t her job. Why did she need to be prepared if something attacked her in the first place? She would just die, and then it would be over. Isn't that what happened to Bea and Nell? Nell walked away from it traumatized, but Bea was headless and stuck in some fucking freezer somewhere. Bea, who couldn’t be bothered to show up to her own fucking summoning. They continued for a while, back and forth, Blanche slipping each time before she finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Alright! Enough! I’m done!” Blanche snapped, frustration finally built up enough to snap, holding up her hands and then running them down her face, muffling her next words: “I’m just going to go home.”

To say that this was going… poorly was an understatement. It was clear that Blanche was more tired than she let on. Winn should’ve stopped, but his wolf-brain was in the driver’s seat. And the wolf wanted exercise. At its best, this was play-fighting, something that the two of them could look back on and laugh when Blanche eventually kicked his ass. When he had a player who just wasn’t getting it, there were two options: keep pushing or back off. So, he kept coming at her, and she kept missing. By the time she raised her hands in defeat, Winn was just about ready to let her throw in the towel. Had she kept her damn hands outta her eyes, he probably woulda. But that was fuckin’ dangerous and Blanche needed to— He couldn’t let her— This was safe. He was safe. But real life was fuckin’ dangerous, and if she was hell-bent on gettin’ into messes and putting herself at risk, then she needed to be prepared. All of this was in the back of his mind as he ran at her again, loud, loud thuds on the ground as he bounded up to Blanche, paws up in an obvious “Gotcha!” and a toothy smile on his maw. He’d just give her a little scare, and then they’d stop and come back at it again.

Winn scared the shit out of her. Blanche had just said she was done and was going to stop, but the next thing she knew was there was a wolf running at her, teeth bared. She panicked, scrambling backward, and screamed long and loud as she shoved her hands out in front of her as blood pounded in her ears. Like others before, Winn was thrown away from Blanche. The familiar energy under her skin burst from her as her adrenaline laced fear shoved Winn away from her. Blanche scrambled back, eyes wide as she watched Winn connect with a tree. Shit. Was he fucking stupid?! She said she wanted to stop! “Winn!” Blanche snapped, but things didn’t feel right. Like she had just lifted something that was far too heavy and carried it anyway. She staggered. “Shit—”

Winn remembered the force hitting him, his back connecting with a tree, and then—

The wolf crumpled to the ground, a low growl buried in the back of its throat, coming out slow and dangerous. Pain, like it had fallen down a mountain. Nothing was broken, it would be fine. But it would not underestimate this human again. It snarled, teeth bared, hackles raised, as it rose from the ground, eyes finding the human and narrowing. The human shouted something foreign to it, something in its own language, crude and loud. The wolf gnashed at the air, the tiniest of warnings. The Moon would come, soon, and it would stain the earth with blood as it bit. It always savored the snap of bone, the chase that it would give the human through the forest, its home territory. The wolf howled, rage bounding into the air, an offering to the sky. And then, it ran at the human. Nothing would stop it from its prey.

The only thing that Blanche could think of were Lauren Langley’s insides pouring out of her as she showed Blanche her true form. Werewolf attack. Kaden’s mother and father were mauled by werewolves. Blanche didn’t exactly register what was happening as she froze, eyes wide as Winn’s snarling face came crashing towards her. Blanche had never seen Winn like that — she had never been in this position. She was rooted straight down into the ground. She couldn’t even scream. She couldn’t move. Move you idiot, try to run! If she was going to die, why the hell was she going to die standing there like an idiot. She wasn’t going to be like all the other fucking stupid people in this town that just died. Inky black spots appeared in her vision and her knees hit the grass first as her entire body crumbled, arms going to cover her head.

Why was it not running? The wolf watched, almost in slow motion, as the human crumpled to the ground, far enough away from the thing that it had had plenty of time to run away from the wolf. Run! said a voice, in that crude tongue. But, as the wolf came upon the human, raised its claws to rend its flesh from its bones, it found it could not. The heartbeat was— A growl, now, but not from its own gut. But from its own throat? No. No, this would not do. It brought its claw down—

— and Winn stopped himself, coming back to his senses. His vision was blurry, his senses scattered to the winds. Fuck. What the fuck. He’d known Blanche could throw him, rationally, but to be actually thrown. It was awful, wild. It had pushed him to an edge, an edge he almost didn’t back away from. He had to… He had to go, to get away. What if he fucked up, what if he hadn’t been able to stop the wolf? Blanche was... It was safer, for her, if he left. He couldn’t be trusted, with a human life. Why the fuck had he thought he’d be safe for Blanche to fight? Stupid, idiot, useless motherfucker. He whimpered, soft at the back of his throat. Would she be... alright? She had to be. He couldn’t shift back, tried and couldn’t. Dammit, fuck. He… He had to go. He had questions, but no thoughts about where to find answers. Had Salva been right about him?

[iya5rt]

Kalopsia Project [Bakugo Katsuki x Reader – Tokyo Ghoul AU]

Chapter 8 – Fate Always Finds a Way to Make Things Worse

Chapter Summary: Midoriya has a theory on what might be happening to you. But… that should be impossible, right…?

Kalopsia Project Masterpost

Past closing time, Yuuei was usually silent. Its few employees who, sheltered by Aizawa, lived in the building of the cafe, would retire to their rooms and either spend their evening silently entertaining themselves with social media, studying, or perhaps even sleeping. That’s how it had been for years and, up until recently, everyone thought that’s how it was going to be for years to come.

Something had shaken up this silence mere days ago. It had been a welcome change. Yuuei was just a tad bit more lively these days. And no one complained.

Tonight, Yuuei was quiet for the first time since your arrival.

It wasn’t quiet because there was nobody to fill the silence. As a mater of fact, less than an hour ago the small cafe had been filled with frantic cries. Panic. Fear.

It was much like the first time you’d been brought here. Yet somehow, there was more at stake today. At least, that’s what it felt like.

Bakugo Katsuki didn’t even have it in him to pace back and forth, like all the worried relatives you’d see in movies everywhere. No, why would he be worried? He was just annoyed that there was all this buzz. That everyone was making it seem like a big deal. Surely it was nothing. Just some human girl with a cold. Why should he care?

…

That’s what he kept telling himself. And when that too failed, he let the faint buzzing of the freezer downstairs and the muffled but indistinguishable voices from the neighboring room drown out the rest of his thoughts.

He was frustrated. With everyone who just stood by and watched. With those who panicked and only made everything worse. With damn Deku for not being fast enough. With those four freaks you had been talking to for taking so long to just get the hell out of the cafe. With Aizawa for even letting you work here in the first place.

With you for pushing yourself, for being so reckless.

And most of all, with himself. He had never felt so conflicted before. And he hated feeling conflicted.

All of that, over some random human getting sick, being dumb and not resting enough, only to just lose consciousness out of nowhere.

Had there been signs? Should he have known? Was it worse than it looked?

He suddenly recalled that sinking sensation from earlier. But what proof was that? Strong or not, intuition proved nothing.

Though Midoriya had offered him to come in, saying there wasn’t a problem, Bakugo had voluntarily declined. He needed time to sort out his thoughts, and staring at your unconscious form and Deku’s annoying face wouldn’t have made things any easier on his raging thoughts.

Following the sound of quiet footsteps, the door he sat beside slowly opened. It suddenly dawned on him that he had sorted out nothing, after all. Guess his thoughts were going to bother him longer than he’d hoped they would.

Out the room came out Midoriya and though Bakugo only spared him a brief glance, he could already tell he looked troubled.

Great. As if he’d needed any more reason to worry. Not that he was worried in the first place-

He scoffed, grumbling through his teeth.

“How bad can a goddamn cold get!? Humans are so fragile.” He finally gave up and turned to face Midoriya. A decision which he immediately regretted, upon noticing that the greenhead had stiffen at his words, his eyebrows scrunching even further. Compared to how he had looked after treating your quite literally life-threatening injuries, one would think you had died or something.

Midoriya opened his mouth a few times, as if he was hesitant. Unsure. Finally, he sighed and quietly asked.

“Say, Kacchan, have you or anyone else seen [F/N]-san eat anything lately?” Bakugo cocked an eyebrow – that was not what he’d expected to hear. He shrugged and leaned against the wall, training his eyes on a single spot. He hoped that would ease those conflicting feelings.

“I haven’t – she said something about the cold killing her appetite. I don’t know – her and her human problems. Dunno about the rest though.” Midoriya’s breath seemingly stopped for a second, as he proceeded to start pacing back and forth between the two ends of the small hall, running a hand through his messy hair, only making it look more disheveled.

“This should be impossible…? It can’t- it… It makes no sense!” He stopped, rubbing his face a few more times, before his shoulders slumped. He turned to face Bakugo and pulled up his sleeve, pointing towards his forearm. “When [F/N]-san fell, she dropped the tray and the mug with the hot cocoa shattered. I noticed one of the pieces had cut her arm quite badly.”

Bakugo didn’t even nod, glaring at Midoriya instead – it was his “friendly” sign to stop blabbering on and on and just get to the point already. Midoriya rolled down his sleeve and motioned for Bakugo to come into the room with him.

After quietly opening the door, so as to not startle you in the odd case that you were already awake, the two remained still, at first looking at your sleeping form, one in all his uncertainty and worry, the other in a knowing pity. Then Midoriya finally locked eyes with Bakugo, holding his glare until it turned into a look of anticipation instead.

“It’s gone,” he said.

They remained silent for a few seconds.

Midoriya seemed to know something. Yet Bakugo was simply confused. That made no sense. No, that really was impossible.

Unlike him though, Midoriya had connected the dots already.

“Think about it. Her cut healing mysteriously. The lack of appetite. Even her odd scent you mentioned when she first came here?” Midoriya’s brows were scrunched in worry. “I… I can’t say for certain. I’ve never seen anything like that. They don’t really teach you that stuff in med school,” he chuckled nervously. “But if I had to guess, she must be...”

He didn’t finish. He had already noticed how Bakugo’s eyes had also widened.

“We have to take this to Toshinori, Kacchan. This might be serious. No, this might be something no one has seen before-”

“No!” Bakugo snapped back. “It’s always ‘Toshinori, this’ and ‘Toshinori, that’ - don’t any of you realize he comes from the CCG! I don’t care how much you trust him – this could easily be beyond all of us, and he’s no exception!” Midoriya panicked at his raised voice, though before he could motion for Bakugo to keep quiet (they were, after all, still in your room), two more people walked in. Two pairs of eyes turned to them, only for one to widen in surprise, while the other narrowed in a glare.

“This time Midoriya is right,” Aizawa said. Bakugo’s glare only hardened. Why couldn’t any of them see the problem here!? Aizawa glanced at Todoroki, who nodded back and began.

“You see, my dad was the one who lead that massive raid of one of the CCG Research Facilities a few years ago,” he explained, earning back a few more nods. Everyone had heard about it – a big group of ghouls had attacked the facility, taking down many CCG researchers and investigators. At the front of it all had been Endeavor – nicknamed that for defeating All Might – one of the CCG’s best investigators, who had been in the leading positions of the defense.

And though they all knew that, they also knew that Todoroki wasn’t one to bring up his father just like that. No one at Yuuei liked to pry, but they were well-aware of his disdain for Endeavor. If he was talking about his father, there must have been a damn good reason for it.

Todoroki took the growing silence as his cue to continue.

“It seems like inside the building they discovered an odd room. It looked like they were experimenting on something. Humans and, according to him the size of the equipment made it seem like they might have even been experimenting on children. They didn’t recover any of the files but he said he caught a glimpse of the name “Kalopsia Project” somewhere.”

“Think about it – this is the CCG we’re talking about. If anyone has access to any information about ghouls, it… it has to be them. What if, and I hope it stays an ‘if’, [F/N]-san had something to do with this? The raid was a while ago. She would have still been a child. We all would have.” Midoriya explained, looking somewhere off to the side. None of this was right. None of it.

The conversation he had had with you just the previous day resurfaced in Bakugo’s mind. Your parents’ involvement with the CCG, the mysterious circumstances surrounding their death.

He didn’t say it out loud though.

It all fit together too well. And if he said it, it would have become all the more true.

He didn’t want it to be true though.

Why didn’t he?

What was wrong with him!?

Why did he care? What did he want? What, what, what.

That was the only word on his mind for the past two hours.

Damn it.

Damn it all.

What mess had he gotten himself into now…?

***

Not long after, Midoriya, Todoroki and Aizawa returned downstairs to brief everyone else on the situation, as well as make the call Bakugo still wasn’t all too pleased with. If only he hadn’t approved of Yuuei taking you in, none of this would have been happening.

Or would it have still happened regardless?

What if instead of having everyone else there to help you through it, you had had to suffer through it all alone?

Then again, whose fault was all this in the first place?

Wasn’t he just trying to pin the blame on someone else…?

Hasn’t he been doing that all along?

Because in reality…

It was him that had decided to save you. It was him that had decided to bring you here. It was him that had decided to insist on keeping you alive.

It was him.

It was him all along.

So why did he keep fooling himself like this? What good was that going to do?

Was it his fault this was happening to you too?

There was no way to know for certain yet. He would just have to wait to find out.

He sat beside the bed you were resting on and gazed at your peaceful face. How much longer was this peace going to last though?

Did you have any idea what kind of screwed up shit you had been subjected to, whether willingly or not? Did you have any idea what was going to happen now? Did you have any idea how hard your life was suddenly going to become?

No… You most likely did not. And neither did he.

***

This was the second time in just a week you were waking up without any recollection of what might have happened for you to even be asleep in the first place. This really wasn’t a habit you should have been developing.

Not only that, this time you felt groggy, nauseous even. This must have been the worst sleep you’ve ever had. It was like you hadn’t slept at all. You briefly recalled something about a cold and everything started making sense – you never slept well when you were sick anyway. As if your life hadn’t been messed up enough already.

You decided there was no point wasting time in bed right now, especially with how thirsty you were, not to mention the hunger that was slowly creeping up – and here you thought the cold had killed your appetite. Though with a few grunts from how stiff your entire body felt, you somehow managed to push yourself up and sit in the bed, reaching a hand to move all the stray hair away from your face.

Only now did you notice Bakugo beside the bed, as he seemed to suddenly perk up. Instead of doing or saying anything though, he froze, eyes locked on you. The heavy silence lasted a few more seconds, until it dawned on you.

“Oh god, I fainted, didn’t I!?” you exclaimed, hands flying to your face yet again. “I am so, so sorry! Everyone must have been so worried, oh no… Someone had to bring me up here too, right? Damn it, Midoriya-kun probably had to deal with me again, I am so sorry, I can’t believe I keep causing so much trouble… for you.. guys...” You trailed off. Bakugo’s brows had furrowed and he had let out a long sigh, hunching forward to rest his head on his hands, as he contemplated. With a shake of his head, he muttered something.

“If anyone should be worried right now, it should be you.”

Your brows furrowed too, though it was more so due to confusion. While you remained silent, he seemed to be reasoning with himself. In the end however, he decided to be blunt.

“You...” His crimson eyes looked up, meeting yours. “[Y/N], you’re turning into a ghoul.”

“...”

“...”

A heavy silence fell upon the room yet again. And then…

You chuckled.

“I know I’m a little drowsy still but this probably isn’t something you should joke about, Bakugo-kun. At least make it something more believable next time, jeez,” you pouted, turning to look at Bakugo’s reaction to one of his rare jokes getting totally busted. What you saw however, made your smile fall a bit.

“No, you don’t get it...” he managed through gritted teeth.

“It’s okay, Bakugo-kun. Bad jokes happen to the best of us, don’t worry-”

“No, don’t tell me not to worry!!” He had raised his voice. “This is not a joke, [Y/N]! Don’t laugh about it – don’t you understand!? Your life’s been fucked over, can’t you grasp that!?”

Seems like being yelled at first thing after you woke up did not lead to you thinking things through and reasoning with Bakugo though.

“What’s your problem!?” you snapped back. Who was he to say things like that!? “This is ridiculous, can’t you hear yourself? You’re right, this isn’t funny, so stop!”

“And you don’t wanna believe me!? See for yourself – you haven’t eaten anything lately, you’ve been attacked by all sorts of weird creeps, your scent’s not normal – something is wrong!!”

You looked down, gritting your teeth too. Didn’t he realize that none of what had happened lately was all too pleasant to you?

“You say this… But do you really think, Bakugo-kun…” You looked up to meet his eyes again. “Do you really think any of this would have happened then!? If what you’re saying is true, how would any of this have happened, huh? Do you have any idea how scared I was that night? I thought I was going to die!!” You had both unknowingly leaned closer, each trying to convince the other they were right. “Do you know how much it hurt!? How much pain I felt while I was trying to run for my life!? If I really was a ghoul, do you think I would still have this damn scar on my shoulder!? That scar that hurts every time I even move!! Do you-”

Your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo, who had even looked remorseful for a second there, now blinked as you suddenly went quiet and your eyes widened.

“No. No, no, no. You have to be kidding me, t-that’s ridiculous, it can’t be, i-its’ impossible, I...” you continued mumbling in disbelief, rushing to pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt. And no matter how desperately you looked, it… “It’s… not here… Oh god, it’s really gone… The… The scar is… it’s gone…?” Your voice cracked.

But how!? You saw it there just this morning when you woke up. It didn’t look like it was going to heal any time soon, if it ever was even going to heal in the first place. So then what had happened? No human could heal just like that.

…

No human could…

Suddenly the reality of what Bakugo had said all came rushing at you.

How…?

You didn’t have it in you to cry. Not now anyway. No, you couldn’t even begin to grasp the thought. It was too much. Too confusing. Too sudden.

As you stood there almost motionless, Bakugo put a hand on your back. It was warm.

It was so, so warm. And any other time, maybe that would have meant something. Maybe it would have made you tease him, laugh, smile, feel all warm and fuzzy yourself. Set off those butterflies in your stomach perhaps?

Today, Yuuei was silent.

Today, you couldn’t even bring yourself to really feel that warmth.

Today, everything was going wrong.

“Though we’re not sure what to do yet, Aizawa said we’re going to have to pay a visit to that mysterious guy you keep hearing about. It seems like he knows something.”

You laughed. It wasn’t funny, you just… weren’t sure how else to react.

And here you thought you’d seen it all. Here you thought you were prepared for anything.

“Knowing isn’t the same as helping… What’s…What’s going to happen now…?”

Bakugo shook his head. He had no idea either.

It was a bit of a funny scene. To be asking a ghoul of all things about that.

You thought back.

To that first night when it had all started. To how it had all started.

Suddenly you wondered, where had things gone so wrong…?

***

[CLASSIFIED INFORMATION]

Protocol K78152112

Subject #36

Real Name: Toga Himiko

Background: Subject was found trying to attack a pair of helpless ghouls, despite not being a ghoul herself; said she was abandoned by her parents; seems to be mentally unstable.

Results: Blood structure changed; Subject suffered major blood loss;

Full sync with the kakuhou was achieved in a few hours. Subject lived and showed no further signs of deterioration.

(scribbled in pen) And here I was, thinking three was the lucky number. They keep getting better and better but they’re all screwed in the head and can’t do anything without orders. Might have to tweak that a bit…

***

Author’s Note: Haha. Fun chapter, wasn’t it?

I wasn’t kidding when I said the plot was picking up. Whenever something major happens, know that I’ve tried my best to hide small clues about it throughout the story. Reader-chan’s peculiar scent, as noted by Bakugo in chapter 2? Well, now you have an explanation. The title of the story even? There’s a bit more about it later on but today was the first ever mention of it in an actual chapter!

Anyway, I had the sudden realization that the reader getting sick happened to coincide with what’s happening all over the world right now too. So for today, I would love to know what you thought about this new development! Did you see it coming? Does it explain some things? Or does it just raise more questions?

But I’d also be curious to hear – what measures are being taken where you live because of the virus? Here, schools are completely off-limits and our classes have moved online – it’s an interesting experience because most of our teachers can’t even grasp how to use the different platforms we need. Alas, that’s how it is, I guess.

So thank you all so much for reading!! I appreciate it a lot and I’m so excited for all the foreshadowing to finally pay off! I’d also love it if you dropped a comment and shared your answers on those questions – I’m super curious to know about them! I’ll see you all next Wednesday! Bye~

(Psst, @afuckingunicornn  @creativedogs  @chims-kookies  - you know the drill by now - thank you for the support and here is the next part!)

[kenzieam]

Not Happening, Doll - Chapter Three (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, eventual smut, angst, slow burn)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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If I missed any tag requests, I apologize!!

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

*****************************************************************************

Levi and Bucky cannot stand each other (or rather, the former Winter Soldier cannot stand to be around the Avenger’s newest member and, like the ass he is, he won’t divulge why) and of course, they get teamed up for a new mission. It’s deep cover this time and not only do they have to work together, they have to pretend they’re MARRIED.

Heaven help them….

****************************************************************************

This is turning into a much slower burn than I thought……

***************************************************************************

The town looked quiet and Bucky was immediately suspicious. It looked too good to be true, too clean and when he voiced this, he was surprised to hear Levi agree with him, her gaze sharp as she navigated the wide streets, following the direction of her phone’s GPS. A few random people were out on their lawns or in front of garages with open doors, and they shaded their eyes and watched these newcomers, raising a slow hand in greeting that Bucky returned only after Levi hissed at him to.

The house chosen for them was tidy and neat, a large deck out front; cookie-cutter identical to the other houses on the street, different from its immediate neighbors only by color and choice of ornamental bush. As they looked closer, they noticed the startling incongruity of the front door, a bold red color.

“Think that’s a sign?” Bucky asked dryly as Levi parked in front of the garage. “They’ve already made us?”

“Well, you’re the one who wouldn’t wave.” Levi replied, perhaps even more dryly. Grabbing a suitcase from the back seat, Levi continued to the front door, fiddling with a set of keys she’d pulled from her pocket.

Bucky appeared at her side, waited until she’d unlocked the door and pushed it open before asking flatly. “You want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“Wouldn’t want you to get my ‘cooties’, Jackson.”

The ‘movers’ had been and gone; and boxes were scattered hither and yon, random bits of furniture in equally random corners. The house smelled clean but empty, not musty yet but definitely disused; Levi wondered if Jackass would object to her essential oil diffuser. Probably, asshat.

Bucky reappeared from outside, carrying the last of the ‘luggage’ and set it to the side. Rubbing a hand through his hair, grimacing as he did so, he glanced Levi’s way.

“Want to get something to eat first-“ he was interrupted by knocking at the door and a hollered ‘Hello?’

His grimace deepening, Bucky sighed and stage whispered. “Showtime.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Levi strode to the door and pulled it open. A Stepford Wife stood outside, updated for the new millennium but still a robot.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” She trilled, her spit glands showing in her joker grin.

“Thank you,” Levi struggled to remember her manners in the light of this artificial sun. A dish was shoved into her hands and Levi clamored for a nerve-racking beat, almost dropping it.

“I’m Tiffanie! The unofficial, official neighborhood Welcome Wagon! I saw the moving truck earlier and just knew you’d be here soon, so I whipped up a casserole for you!”

Her words died on her tongue and Levi was momentarily struck dumb. Bucky appeared, pulling Levi to his side and she leaned stiffly against him, fighting to look natural.

“Thank you, it looks delicious.” Bucky leaned over and inhaled the dish, flashing a panty-dropping smile at Tiffanie who all but cooed and swooned in return. “I’m Jackson Harper and this is my wife, Madison.”

Finally finding her tongue, Levi wrested the dish to one hand and shook Tiffanie’s. “Please, call me Maddie.”

“Oh, aren’t you just precious!” Translation: holy shit, this man is totally hot and you’re totally out of your league, Madison. “Do you work at the Company?” She continued, reminding Levi of this peculiarity she’d been warned of, the townspeople’s habit of referring to the corporation as if it was it’s own entity. Interesting.

“I do,” Levi answered and, in a movement she certainly didn’t plan and would spend the next few hours analyzing and internally shaking her head over, snuggled closer to Bucky, wrapping her arm around him. Bucky hid his surprise well, only a faint tightening of his fingers on her hip giving him away, but Tiff was too dazzled by his face to notice. “Jackson works from home.”

“Oh,” Tiffanie cooed, eyes roaming none too subtly up and down Bucky. She turned, keeping a coy gaze over her shoulder. “See you both around then.” She tottered away, throwing another look over her shoulder to make sure Bucky was still looking.

Bucky stepped away and back like Levi stunk and she shut the door before turning to face him, the casserole heavy in her hands. Bucky picked irritably at his left hand; lip curled in annoyance.

“Leave it alone.” Levi scolded. “The glove is delicate, remember?”

Bucky threw her a look that clearly invited her to fornicate with herself but he dropped his hand, flexing his fist with a grumble. Stark had furnished him with a lifelike skin-t0ne glove to hide his metal hand, but it was less than perfect camouflage and didn’t fit exactly, prompting Bucky to pick at it like a hangnail. It would do for long distances, but he probably wouldn’t be able to fool anyone if they actually grabbed his hand and looked closely.

Levi glanced once more towards the door and batted her eyelashes like Tiffanie. “You have an admirer,” she teased.

Bucky’s answering grumble was louder and he muttered something almost totally inaudible, but Levi thought it sounded like ‘not the one I want’. He turned and stormed away, throwing irritably over his shoulder. “Don’t fumble like that next time, I might not be there to save your ass. Remember your goddamn lines.”

Levi couldn’t help it and stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.

****************************************************************************************** “Hey, you home?” Levi called, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Where else would I be?” Came the flat reply.

“I don’t know,” Levi snarked, leaning against the doorframe and looking inside the guest room, now commandeered as Bucky’s ‘office’. “Maybe at the hospital finally getting that stick out of your ass?”

Bucky glowered briefly at her but didn’t respond and Levi snorted in frustration, pushing away and continuing towards the master bedroom, her bedroom

“Hope you don’t hog all the covers, doll.” Bucky grumbled, moving to stand beside Levi.

She glanced at him in mingled surprise and exasperation. After telling her to ‘remember her goddamn lines’ earlier, Bucky hadn’t bothered to say anything since, choosing to organize his ‘office’ like a bull in a china shop, swearing and muttering under his breath as he tried to make sense of the mess of equipment set up for him by the ‘moving company’. Some of it was for show, in case anyone ever wanted to see what a children’s book illustrator did, but most of it was uber-top secret; monitors and speakers and other such accoutrement to aid in their spying of the neighborhood.

Levi busied herself with organizing the rest of the house, making faces at some of the shit that had been chosen as their cover, including skillfully doctored and supposedly joyful wedding pictures; Levi and Bucky, no sorry, Jackson and Maddie gazing into each other’s eyes, dressed casual at their trendy beach wedding, sharing a kiss; posing on an empty country rood in cream colored fisherman’s sweaters and L.L. Bean Boots, the stereotypical ‘autumn’ photo set.

Thankfully, some forward-thinking agent had stocked the fridge and freezer, and with minimal burrowing, Levi found a frozen dish to reheat for supper. There was no way in hell she was going to sample Tiffanie’s casserole. It was probably laced with arsenic… or laxatives.

Bucky hadn’t commented beyond a grunt when she’d called him for supper, or rather, had poked her head in his ‘office’ and snapped ‘supper, asshole’ at him; and he’d been no more loquacious the rest of the night. Only once Levi started preparing for bed did he reappear like a damn whack-a-mole with his ‘don’t hog all the covers, doll’ comment.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Levi snapped. “You’re not sleeping in here with me.”

“Why the hell not? We’re ‘married’.” He made little air-quotes with his fingers.

“I’d rather have a razor-blade enema.” Levi growled. She pointed out the door. “The other guest room has a bed, sleep there; dream of Steve or Tiffanie or who-the-fuck-ever, just stay the hell away from me.”

Something flashed in his eyes, too fast for Levi to catch, then he whirled and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

“Anything interesting?” She called, pulling off her button-down shirt, wishing she could snap off her bra as well and fly free, but she didn’t want any snide comments from the peanut section, or even more strange, a long, silent appraising glance like she’d caught Bucky giving her every now and then. Still shirtless, she shimmied out of her pencil skirt and reached for a pair of yoga capris. Snagging a tank top, she headed back down the hallway, pulling the shirt over her head as she re-entered the doorway.

Bucky stared at her, his hungry gaze missed by Levi as the shirt temporarily covered her face, then turned blankly back to the monitor before Levi could see him ogling. She stepped in further and leaned close, eyes fixed on the monitor Bucky was himself trying to focus on. Her scent surrounded him, and he unconsciously held his breath, held in the involuntary moan that Levi’s proximity seemed intent on drawing from him.

“Not much.” He finally answered, staring directly at the monitor, his hand moved, tapping at the screen and bringing up a new feed. “Finally got one planted at 1411.”

“Good, the Kramer’s.”

“Yeah, whoever.” Bucky’s hand tightened in his lap and he cleared his throat. “What about work, you hear anything?”

“Not much, just the usual gossip. Did you start anything for supper?”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s after 5?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Levi snorted and pushed away; as she left the room, she threw over her shoulder irritably. “It’s not going to emasculate you, he-man, to enter the kitchen once in a while. This isn’t the Forties anymore.”

Bucky bit back an angry reply, embarrassed because Levi was right; he had dropped the ball today. After planting that elusive bug at the Kramer’s, he’d found himself caught up in daydreams as he sat in the office and monitored all the feeds. Dreams of Levi had stolen his attention, visions of her naked and glorious spread beneath him, straddling him and riding him like a warhorse; fuck, even just smiling at him the way she smiled at Steve. Jesus, it pissed him off, to be ensnared like this, a slave to his mind and body. She didn’t want him that way, and even if she did-

“Hey! Did you hear me?” Levi appeared in the doorway again, annoyance darkening her hypnotizing eyes.

“What?!” He snapped in return, focusing defiantly on the screen.

Levi sighed and there was such an edge of sadness in it that Bucky jerked his gaze up her, unable to disguise his concern as fast as he wanted to. But Levi didn’t seem to notice, and if she did, she didn’t believe it.

“We just got invited to a barbeque tonight, can you stand to be that close to me for a few hours?” The sadness was gone, replaced with a healthy dose of sarcasm and Bucky felt about two inches tall for making her feel that way.

He cleared his throat again before answering gruffly. “Yeah, sure… whatever.”

Levi rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. “Fine, be ready in 15 minutes.”

******************************************************************************************* As soon as they were out of eyeshot from the Hayden’s backyard, where the barbeque was still in full swing, Levi dropped Bucky’s arm like he was on fire. Stinging from the rejection, Bucky attacked.

“You managed not to fuck up tonight, good job.”

Levi took a full step to the side and threw him a dirty look. “You too, although I’m sure if you’d smiled at Tiffanie any wider, she would have dropped to her knees and blown you.”

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.”

“Madison, Jackson! Welcome!” Another Stepford wife trilled, fake lashes creating their own breeze with each blink.

“Alison, thank you for inviting us.” Levi replied, working to lighten her voice and force a believable smile. Bucky’s arm encircled her waist and he extended his other hand at the hostess, another panty-dropping smile on his face.

Alison giggled and flicked a gleeful glance at Tiffanie before shooting a coy glance at Levi, who smiled vacantly back as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that these two women were eyeing her man.

Levi was pulled towards a cackling group of hens while Bucky was dragged towards the suburban male equivalent and for the next hour or so, they were blessedly free of contact with each other.

“Maddie, how are you settling in?” Tiffanie cooed; eyes drawn once again to the direction Bucky had been taken. “Jackson seems to be enjoying himself?”

Hardly.

“It’s great here,” Levi replied, trying briefly to emulate Tiffanie’s coo and just as quickly abandoning it, she’d never achieve that level of vapid. “Y’all have been so welcoming!”

Y’all??

Levi was almost pulling out her geometric black bob by the time Bucky found her, the tightening at the corner of his eyes the only indication that he too was as thoroughly done as she was. A wave of relief, yes, that’s all it was, relief, flooded Levi as he moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear.

“Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“Yes.” She hissed back, lips brushing Bucky’s skin. His shudder of revulsion was unnecessary, however.

They managed to hold onto their smiles until they’d left the backyard, until Levi had pulled her arm away from his.

“Christ, I need a drink.” Bucky grumbled as he fumbled with the door key.

“You can’t get drunk.” Levi pointed out.

“So, it’ll be fun to try.” Bucky retorted, finally pushing the door open so hard it crashed against the wall.

“Whatever, live it up.” Levi grumbled, striding towards her room.

“Wait-“ Bucky reached out, snagging her arm, not even sure what he was going to say himself until it tumbled out of his mouth. “C’mon, it’s pretty pathetic drinking alone, stay up and have one too, huh?”

Levi eyed his hand on her arm before directing her hard gaze on his face. She studied him for a long beat, eyes boring into his before nodding stiffly. “Okay, give me a minute.”

Biting his lip to disguise his grin, Bucky nodded and moved into the living room, pulling open the liquor cupboard and selecting a bottle and two rock glasses. Levi returned, wearing pajama pants, a tank top and housecoat open over top and Bucky sneaked an instantaneous glance, taking her all in, from her graphite-grey pedicure to the cute little top-knot she’d managed to pull her hair into.

Grinning mischievously, Levi pulled something out from behind her back and brandished a bottle that Bucky immediately recognized, drawing a wide grin on his face.

“Where’d you get that?”

Levi had the grace to blush. “Might have ‘borrowed’ it from Thor’s stash.”

“Hand it over,” Bucky reached for the bottle of Asgardian mead and popped the cork, pouring two-fingers worth in each glass before holding one out for Levi to take; nodding her thanks, Levi accepted it and sat on the wide sectional couch, crossing her legs and leaning back into the sumptuous cushions.

Bucky sank down into the armchair opposite, resting one ankle on his knee and studied the amber liquor before taking a small sip. It burned in the best way.

“Mmmm, good.” He murmured, eyes flicking up to Levi, watching hungrily as she too took a sip, eyes closed in pleasure, head tipping back for a moment and smooth column of her throat open for Bucky to see. He looked away quickly as she opened her eyes, head dropping forward again.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” Levi asked quietly, picking at a cuticle.

“I don’t know… we haven’t really uncovered anything yet, just a few whispers, nothing concrete.”

“Maybe there’s nothing here to find.” Levi’s eyes were dark like bruises in her face.

“Or maybe we just need to dig deeper.” Bucky countered quietly.

They fell into silence again, staring reflectively at their glasses and Bucky was hit with a sudden compulsion to speak.

“Levi, I-“

Levi inhaled sharply, something akin to fear in her eyes. They flicked to the wall clock and Levi suddenly stood, setting her glass on the table with a loud clink. “I forgot; I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should get some sleep, good night Bucky.”

“Hey, Levi-“ Bucky began, standing and turning to face her retreating back but Levi continued down the hallway, her door shutting behind her.

Anger hit him then, abrupt and hot; what? She couldn’t even stand to be around him anymore? Fine, what-the-fuck-ever.

The glass creaked in his hand and heat flamed his cheeks. Why was he so furious, and why was he feeling so disappointed at the same time? Fine, doll. You want distance, sure.

[magioftheseas]

Take Me Back, Back, Back

For @bidoofgodofdestruction

Summary: One minute he's failed to convince Hinata Hajime against the Kamukura Izuru Project. The next, he's in a hospital bed with Hinata Hajime leaning over him. In a scene that he could've sworn already happened months ago.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Violence both implied and explicit albeit minor and not super graphic. Also this entire thing circles around a time loop so there are implicit character deaths in it, too. And angst. Lots of angst.

Notes: I got commissioned to write time loop KomaHina where Komaeda tries to prevent Hinata from signing up for the project! It’s set, however, in bidoof’s Ultimate Despair fic so you need to read it for context. It mentions band stuff. The band stuff is important. It’s also super angsty. This and that fic because...obviously. Wheeeeeeee.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

He first remembers a dead phone line. The ground rippling and sinking below. It’s cold. It’s dark. He still can’t move. His heart pounds on the inside of his chest.

Let me out, let me out!

It’s screaming. Inside, it’s all just screaming.

Let me out! Let me see him! Please! Please! It can’t end like this!

“It’s not use,” Matsuda Yasuke had told him. “He’s too far gone.”

Hinata-kun.

He laughs. His trapped heart sobs between its screams.

Hinata-kun!

And he wakes up, jumping as Hinata yelps.

“H-Hey, easy, easy there!” Hinata grips his shoulders as he thrashes, squeezing and frantic. “Calm down, it’s just me!”

He stills. He’s panting. He’s in the bed of the nurse’s office. There’s sunlight filtering through the window, catching onto Hinata Hajime’s worried face. His furrowed brow. Komaeda stares.

The next onslaught of memories leave him limp and breathless. Hinata exclaims something. Is quick to embrace him so that he doesn’t slip. Quickly spills out bland reassurances. Komaeda’s heart is still pounding, but it’s not asking him to be let out.

“Hinata-kun.”

Hinata rubs his back awkwardly, nearly choking out his response as if he were shaken up, too. “Y-Yeah?”

“What just happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” Hinata stammers. “I mean, we were having band practice. You were swaying. Mioda thought it was to the music but you looked a little paler than usual and then—uh. You fell. Tumbled off the stage, too. How hard did you...?”

Not being an Ultimate, Hinata’s hand groping his skull for the implied bruise was uncomfortable and awkward. Komaeda still leaned into the touch. It hurt like hell, but he’s been through worse. So much worse.

“Aw, jeez.” Hinata quickly retracts his hand. “Yeah, that’s a bump. Don’t think we can continue practicing like this.”

“Ahaha.” Komaeda remembers, now, and just like before, he shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine enough to sing. I can just sit down while I do if you’re worried about my balance.”

“Are you sure? There’s no shame in taking a break while you’re injured.”

“There is shame in disappointing others, especially when they’re Ultimates.”

They’ve had this conversation before. It’s all familiar.

When his feet touch the ground, he feels the rippling.

Was that—all really just a dream?

Hinata’s expression is strained and conflicted. It’s clear he wants to argue. Komaeda remembers being irritated with him. Bristling and telling him off.

He feels different now.

“I’ll be fine. It’s fine.”

“If you...say so.”

He says all that and when Hinata pulls away to let him stand, his heart thumps in protest.

No, no, no.

“A-At least help me up,” Komaeda mutters lamely, raising his hand. Hinata shorts, but he doesn’t hesitate. He takes Komaeda’s hand. He smiles just a bit.

He squeezes, and Komaeda’s heart soars.

--

There were more moments of familiarity. Conversations and banter that he had been through once before. Flashes of the future pushing at his skull before they’d happen in front of him. Building and building until a fateful, undoubtedly significant moment.

It was Hinata’s birthday. He showed up to give him a present. He hadn’t seen anyone else in weeks. It hadn’t been any easier the supposed second time. He felt a little sick, honestly.

And then, Hinata Hajime asked him—

“If you had the opportunity to be gifted talent...would you take it?”

“What on earth are you saying?”

His initial response was the same, but his heart was pounding in his ears.

“You’re fine as you are.” The words spill out before he can stop them. “You don’t need talent, you’re already worthwhile.”

“H-Huh?! That’s a complete 180 from your usual behavior.” Hinata straightens up, but he seems attentive. Komaeda wonders. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

It occurs to him, then, that he’s gripping Hinata’s hands tight. Tight enough that his own might break.

“You’re fine as you are,” he presses. “You don’t need any sort of talent! So, just—forget it! Forget all about it!”

“H-How the hell am I supposed to forget?! Oi, Komaeda, let go!”

“Hajime, don’t go—!”

Hinata shoves him away. The words keep spilling and spilling.

“Hope and talent still can’t be manufactured—no matter what they do, no matter what you do, it won’t matter. All you’re doing is killing yourself. What’s the good in that? You’re reducing yourself to a husk for—for what? For just the idea that you could be talented?!”

“W-What are you—you don’t know what you’re—argh!” Hinata clutches his head, and he screams. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Hajime, I-I’m just saying...”

“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!”

“H-Hajime, please—!”

Hinata removes him forcibly. He threatens to call the police when Komaeda bangs on his door. It’s an empty threat. The police won’t care, especially not the campus cops. But Komaeda freezes, seizes, and then—

Through blurring tears, he wakes up again. Hinata is by his side again, fretting over him.

“W-What’s wrong, Komaeda?! Komaeda?”

“I-I... I... A-Aha... Haha... How...!” Throwing his arm over his eyes, he wheezes in grief and euphoria. “How lucky—! To get not just a second chance, but a third!”

“Komaeda!”

--

That’s the delight about his luck, you see. Luck is when something happens in spite of the odds. As long as there’s that non-zero-percent chance, there’s a way. And his Ultimate Luck worked that very way.

Wasn’t that wonderful? Wasn’t that amazing?

No matter how many times he tried over and over and over and over and over and over again, as long as there was a chance of success—none of it mattered! None of it at all!

Even when—

“Look, Komaeda, I know you mean well, but—I’m not in the mood, I’m sorry. I don’t think—I can talk to you anymore.”

And when—

“Y-You’re getting kinda creepy, so like...can you just leave it alone...? I don’t need you patronizing me.”

Especially when—

“I don’t know who told you about the project, but if it gets out, it’ll be bad for Hope’s Peak. Sorry, Komaeda-kun, but we just can’t take the risk, even if it’s with you. But you’ll understand, won’t you?”

When—

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, open your eyes! Komaeda! Komaeda! NAGITO!!”

--

“Hey, can you hear me?”

He wakes up, dazed and dizzy. He still remembers the cold stream of blood running down his temple. Hinata shakes his shoulder a bit.

“You with me? That fall was—pretty bad.”

So bad it killed me, he thought drearily. But it’s okay. I’m still here. I still have—a chance. But what should I do this time? What’s even less? How should I—?

“Maybe I should get you ice?” Hinata wonders, almost idly. “Komaeda, how are you feeling?”

I’m so frustrated.

“Like shit.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s blunt. Guess you did hit your head pretty hard.” Hinata shrugs it off. He goes to the freezer to fetch an ice pack. “Yeah, I’ll tell Mioda that we’ll have to stop band practice early today. And I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

What can even be done about you?

He does come up with an idea. One that’s sure to make Hinata Hajime hate him. He knows going to Hope’s Peak staff is a dead end, figuratively and literally—he supposes, then, all he has left is burning the bridge entirely.

“Actually, Hinata-kun.” He manages his usual smile as Hinata hands him the pack. He doesn’t feel the chill seeping into his skull as he presses it to the bump there. “I’ll just tell Mioda-san that the band isn’t an option anymore.”

Hinata Hajime blinks at him rather dumbly.

“You...don’t think you can recover at all?”

Aha. You’re so cute.

“I can’t accept it. You in a space for Ultimates. Associating with Ultimates. Reserves like you—that level of cockiness should be considered a crime.”

Hinata Hajime blinks again.

“...seriously? This again? You’re going to throw another tantrum now? Y’know—you’re just going to upset the others. Mioda, Saionji, Tsumiki, like—they don’t deserve this shit. Just rest. Recover. But if you want to drop out, I’m not going to stop you. It’s your own damn problem to deal with.”

“Ahaha. You make me sound so selfish.” Maybe I am. You’re just one person. The loss of someone like you shouldn’t be significant. And, yet. I want to prevent it. “It’s not just me, I swear. It’s you. All you. Hinata-kun, I—think you should go back to your last high school.”

“Well, I refuse. Sorry.”

Right now, Hinata Hajime looks at him as if he were the scum of the earth. He should be used to that.

It still hurts. But, compared to everything else—this meager self-centered pain is—

“Haha. Hinata-kun, you’re such a piece of work. You’re so pathetic, trotting after every Ultimate’s heels. You’re even latched onto someone like me.” He laughs. It hurts. It’s cold. “Do you think that if you cling hard enough that you’ll be taken in? Like a stray dog?”

“That wasn’t why!” Hinata exclaimed. “You—I just got dragged into this from the start!”

“I doubt it’s that.” The ice is set aside. Komaeda swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I really do believe you think it’s that easy to be accepted. Just to wiggle your way in. Like a naughty cuckoo. But, don’t you know? Birds aren’t all fools. They can spot the fakes. They reject them. It’s going to be the same with you. So.” He pokes Hinata’s sternum. There’s a flutter. “It’s best you just leave before you’re dropped, Hinata-kun. It’ll hurt less that way.”

Hinata slaps his hand away.

“Fuck you.”

Komaeda slaps him across the face. The response is immediate. Hinata seizes the collars of his shirt, pulls him close, and—

Komaeda screams.

The response is immediate.

Hinata drops him in surprise. A passing teacher rushes in. Komaeda points. Hinata pales.

Hinata tries to stammer out his name. Komaeda doesn’t look at him.

“Teacher, this reserve attacked me.”

Hinata shouts at him before he’s yanked away. It could’ve been out of rage. Confusion. It could’ve been a plea. Komaeda doesn’t really remember that part—but he does remember Hinata Hajime’s expulsion soon after.

--

The days pass.

The world still ends.

Komaeda Nagito can only laugh until he bursts into tears.  He passes out soon after and hopes he doesn’t wake up again.

[sungxmin]

Stress (m)

» pairing; sungjin x fem!reader » genre; PWP / fluff » word count; 4.7k » synopsis; sungjin has been under stress lately but thank god he has you. » warnings; grinding, blowjob, the reader being horny notes; this is my first one-shot for day6 and its literally just smut lol, but I hope yall like it. 

Sungjin was such a sedulous leader, staying up late in the studio, working on lyrics for the group's next track. Brian had told Sungjin countless times to not push himself past his limits, how he should be relaxing when everyone else was. Of course, the sweet male smiled and brushed off his stress as if it were nonexistent, but the concern each of the other members had never faded.

Sometimes they would force him out the building so he could see some damn sunlight. Why he wanted so badly to come up with unrivaled themes to match the deep libretto that embodies the group, no one knew. Some might say he was a bit of a perfectionist, but even so, that much pent up stress he bore needed to be released.

So here you were, pulling up a chair besides Sungjin and making sure he could see the frown marring your face. You could see him nervously swallow the lump down his throat as he avoided your keen gaze on him. "Five more minutes," he spoke up over the suffocating atmosphere that seemed to form as your eyes on him was unyielding. "You said that five minutes ago." you countered.

"I'm serious this time..."

"Damn it Sungjin, you said that too."

He opened his mouth to speak but recalled his earlier spoken words and closed his mouth before pressing his lips in a thin line.

You propelled your body forward, forcing the chair even closer to Sungjin until your legs were practically tangling with his. "Babe, I'm almost finished with this."

You rolled your eyes at his cute whiny tone. He knew you were usually a soft sucker for when his voice would get small, though when you showed that you were done with him putting off rest for one day, he started to stall.

Sungjin sighed and turned his body to face you. He cupped your face in his warm hands and leaned down to press his lips against your nose, giving it a sweet Eskimo kiss. When he pulled away, he looked down to gently caress your cheek, noticing how you relaxed under his touch. "Five more minutes," he said and you slapped his hands away.

"Five more minutes my ass." It was like he was stuck on repeat. An annoying cycle. But you weren't going to let him waste potentially gratifying hours only to finish writing something without a deadline printed on it. No, he was going to leave this depressing studio and you were going to make sure of that.

You abruptly stood to your feet, the rolling chair you previously sat on now rolling backward behind you. Sungjin's brows knitted in confusion until you suddenly pulled his hand toward you, trying to get him out his chair. But alas, he was too heavy for you to lift.

Realizing what your motives were, Sungjin stifled a laugh. Oh, how cute he thought you looked right now. You put more distance between your feet and slightly squatted, thinking it would give you an advantage. It did not.

Then Sungjin pulled his hand back, causing you to stumble forward, the chance of accidentally bumping foreheads with him becoming eminent scaring you. In swift movements, the brunette male maneuvered your body to smoothly land on his lap. Your face flushed from being inches away from his smirking one. That suave fucker...he was always so quick to turn from playful to smug.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer in his chest. One whiff of his cologne alone made you melt on his lap, the savory aroma clouding your senses for a moment. He smelt so good and you wanted to stay in that position, but you had to remind yourself the reason why you barged through those doors an hour ago and it was not to banter for almost thirty minutes nor was it to cuddle in his unnaturally comfortable arms.

Once back in reality, you detached yourself from him. You pointed a stern finger at him and then motioned to the door, "Out. Now."

The smirk never left his face even as he crossed his arms in amusement, "Make me."

You huffed before giving him a faux smile. "Fine then, I will."

After saying that, Sungjin raised one eyebrow at you and you dashed to go behind his chair and with all your might, you yanked the leather material with enough strength to drag it backward. He didn't expect you go try to drag him out -literally- by his chair. Despite his arms reaching out to grab on something sturdy, you had already pulled him back far away from his desk and anything strapping.

You turned your head back, the creek in the door was all you focused on. So close to getting him out this room that you didn't care about what you would do first once he was out or at least in the hall. You'd probably get back up there if any of the members were even in range.

Your back was almost against the door to push it fully open when suddenly your ass was met with the solid ground and the chair was released from your grip, rolling off somewhere else. You hissed at the pain forming on your cheeks and you looked up to see an extremely contrite Sungjin.

"Oh no, baby, I didn't think you'd fall!" he bent down to try help you up but you swatted him off you, upset that he got out the chair.

"Well, did you think I would fly?" you retorted, a frown taking place on Sungjin's face because of your sarcastic reply.

You could visibly see his hurt in the pout he had, but he couldn't see the hurt on your rear. He didn't mean for you to fall hard as you did- or fall at all, only planned on getting up so you wouldn't get him out.

And like any other girlfriend would in your situation, you used his guilt to give yourself an edge.

"Ah ah..." you feign hurt, causing Sungjin to panic.

"Does it hurt that bad? Damn, ___, I'm so sorry!" he continued spewing out apologies, his hands ever so gently gripping your shoulder. You placed your pointer finger to his lips, the action momentarily shushing him.

"I think I bruised my tailbone." A clear lie. There was barely any pain leftover.

When Sungjin wanted to rush you to the hospital, you had to convince him that it wasn't that grave but kept him thinking there was a hint of soreness in you.

"You know, I'd probably feel a lot better if we went to the break room to put some ice on it," you soften the look in your eyes and held your arms out to him, "carry me?"

Sungjin nodded and turned around so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders and he'll give you a piggyback ride to the break room. You did as he wanted, fake wincing each time you moved and his hands extended back until they found your thighs to bring you close to his body as he stood up.

Sungjin wasn't the type of guy to hit the gym daily, although that didn't mean he completely shied away from it. You knew that and you definitely won't forget it every time you touch his body which was quite often.

When he didn't have you writhing beneath him in pleasure, there would be a chance of him doing a fitting exercise or slaving away at work. And quite recently he has been working a lot, leaving you with your own pent up frustrations.

He'd try to make it up to you with gifts and going down on you for hours, but he hasn't lately and the ache between your legs craved him. Just breathing in his scent is making you reminisce of how you begged him to fuck you harder. Damn, you missed the stars he'd have you see.

Sungjin arrived at the break room and bent down to allow you to slide off his back. The room was empty of other living souls - clear as the day everyone had gone back to their house or carried work home with them. You started to amble to the counter normally then it hit you that you're supposed to act bruised. Then you limped slightly, letting out pseudo groans with each slow step until you reached the counter. "Honey, can you get the ice for me, please?" you asked sweetly.

He heeded your request, fishing an ice pad out the short freezer in the corner and handing it to you. "Can you do it for me?" you bend over on the granite surface, the cold top kissing your skin cooly as you purposefully stuck your ass out. "Please?"

Sungjin swallowed thickly, darting his tongue out to wet his dry lips before asking, "Whe- Where does it mostly hurt?"

You smirked at how he stuttered and turned your upper body around enough to reach for the hand that gripped the ice pack a little too tightly and brought it to press on the part between the small of your back and the top of your ass. "Right there."

You 'accidentally' let out a moan upon the feeling of cool sensations the pack managed to give you, despite the layers of clothes in its way. So you kindly asked Sungjin if he could be a dear and move your clothes out the way to properly feel the ice soothe your ache.

Doing as you wanted very much turned on the male. He suppressed his hormones the most he could as he raised your shirt far enough to display your waist and pulled your pants, and panties, down by the waistband only about an inch.

He bit down on his lower lip, his eyes eating up how good you looked. He'd gladly pull your clothing further down and bury his dick so deep in you that you choke on your sobs. But he didn't do that. Sungjin simply pressed the cold pack on your hot skin and tried his best to ignore how you whimpered at the feeling.

Oblivious of how you schemed him out his studio, his mind concentrated on other things. Right now you wanted to rile him up to the point where he fucks you inside the public break room though that wasn't going to happen since he still believed you were in agony.

Albeit, that didn't stop you from moving backward until the pants that hugged your figure met with the front of Sungjin's jeans. You pretended like you didn't know what you were doing, playing it off as nothing as you shifted on your feet and your ass swayed in front of him. Salacious thoughts flooded his mind and as he was about to ask what you were doing, someone else beat him to it.

Sungjin snapped to the side, away from your bent-over frame. You rolled your eyes in chagrin at the sound of Jae's voice. Without even looking you could tell he was sniggering. Sungjin scratched the back of his head, the tip of his ears showing a new shade of pink. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, ___ got hurt and she needed ice on it," Sungjin explained, repositioning his stance to hide his hard-on. The tightening of his jeans making it difficult, however.

Jae hummed, knowing that his presence had interrupted something from potentially happening. He skipped away from you two, opting to wait until later to get a snack out the break room. You straightened your posture and Sungjin's eyes widen in shock when he didn't notice any sign of pain or soreness in you. "How did you--" He was about to interrogate you because you seemed fine but you got a hold of his wrist and talked over him.

"Don't be dramatic, I'll explain later," you said, dragging him out yet another room, "Let's dip."

Sungjin was puzzled at first. From when you hauled him out the massive building with a superficial injury to your tailbone to when you forced him to ride in the passenger seat of your car. He kept prodding with questions like "Doesn't it still hurt?" and "How are you walking fine?" and even "Are you magic or something?"

Only when you approached where you wanted to go did you explain how you might have exaggerated the pain. Sungjin began to whine about how he thought he accidentally broke you and then you glanced sideways to give him the 'are you serious' expression, your orbs happen to catch a peek at Sungjin's lap.

He had both hands above his lap, barely covering the bulge in his jeans. You licked your chapped lips, images of what you'd do to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling he's having right now. However, you stopped yourself from imagining. Why? Because you had already pulled up to the beach.

Part of you knew that Sungjin wanted nothing more than to be at ease (but you gave him a boner) and you felt sort of guilty for making him stress more by thinking he hurt you. So, you pushed away your horniness and decided to give him respite. He deserved it so much.

You both end up spending the day galloping in the sand, ordering sundaes from nearby ice cream carts and sticking y'all feet in the water while splashing the salty sea onto each other. The ear to ear grin that was accompanying Sungjin's handsome features was making your chest warm with giggles streaming from your lips every time he got playful. God, you missed this. It was such a perfect sunny day outside and he was going to miss out on all of this if he was still cooped up in that stuffy building.

You hadn't heard that deep, throaty laugh of his in what seemed like weeks. He was enjoying himself, the strong breeze in the air-kissing his body as it flows by. The wind was pushing back his hair, his forehead showed more and fuck, you loved seeing that. You could slowly feel the build-up of heat spreading between your thighs, creating that ache that would coax you to jump on him and fuck him so nicely.

"What's on your mind darling?" Sungjin's question brought you out your daze. Focusing back to him, he was sitting so close to you that his scent engulfed you in its heavenly fragrance. Your cheeks started to gain a tinge of color, knowing that you can't tell him that you were imagining him dicking you down at the public beach. Only because there were so many people around, you both would get caught almost immediately. The fervent scenarios circling your mind about possibly getting caught riled up your zen to jump into his lap.

"Oh, nothing..." you lied through a forced smile.

"You sure? Are you tired baby?" Sungjin scooted closer to you, sand marking his jeans but he didn't mind. His hand ascended to cup your cheek, his thumb lightly caressing your skin and you breathe out a shaky breath. Sungjin liked doing this. His hand alone held so much warmth that your core burned with the need to be filled. He was also so hot, even in cool weather. God, you were horny. "We can leave if you like?"

You nodded your head hastily, intertwining his hand that once held your cheek so lovingly with yours and yanking him towards your car.

The car ride was silent except you could hear the pounding of your heart against your ribcage. The cause? You were so amorous for something, anything to push you over that blissful edge. And what made matters worse was Sungjin's hand on your thigh while the other was steering the wheel. Goodness. You tried so hard not to clench your legs together even though you wanted to.

Today was meant to just get him out the studio and have a leisure-filled day. You wanted to give him a break except all you could think about is having him pull over to the roadside and relieving yourself with his fingers, but you had to remember that this is his day off and you'd gladly palliate him of his tangible built-up stress.

It was about five minutes later and Sungjin pulled up to the place you call home. You led him inside, he locked the door behind him and was about to chill in the living room where he thought you wanted to go cuddle until you abruptly pushed him against the wall to connect lips with yours in a desperate kiss.  

He was baffled at first at your impetuous actions but soon he melted in the kiss, his arms finding their way around your lower half, bring you closer into his chest. Wanting to feel you better, Sungjin swiftly turned you around, your back coming in contact with the wall with a thud sound.

You felt the cheeky grin he had against your lips and both your hands traveled up his lusty structure to tug on his short, brown curls, earning a soft gasp from him.

The kiss got messier, sloppy movements as Sungjin's wet tongue eagerly prod against yours, needing to taste more of you. His left hand descended, finding the soft flesh of your thigh and gripping it towards him as he grinds against you. The cotton fabric of your pants and Sungjin's jeans allowed for little friction. Sungjin noticed this and held a growl in his throat.

In quick movements, Sungjin lifts your other thigh, taking you off the ground and settling you on the couch. His tall build hovered over you. He broke the kiss to hook his hands inside the band of your pants, panties and all and only managed to pull it down no more than two inches off your hips before you halted his actions.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, shocked that you made him stop.

"Uh, I..." your cheeks grew hot as you gazed into his eyes that held worry in them. He thought he had done something he shouldn't have and Sungjin would not ever want to do anything that would make you feel uneasy.

He was always tending to your needs before his, wishing to pleasure you first and foremost. Sungjin was that type of guy and you appreciated him so fucking much.

"Sit right here." you pat a spot on the couch and despite being addled at the moment, Sungjin obeyed, tugging his tight jeans away from his body as he sat down. You sat up from your lied down position and moved to kneel in between Sungjin's legs. As you reached forward to undo his jeans, Sungjin caught on to what you were doing and placed his hands over yours. "Baby, what are you doing?"

As if your face couldn't get any hotter, it just went ablaze. "I- I just want to...please you." The last part came out in almost a whisper, but he heard you.

You weren't looking at him this time, your head was cocked to the side in embarrassment. You've never gone down on him before, so you couldn't help but feel shy at his words. Throughout your relationship with him, Sungjin has been willingly eating you out with every chance he got. That proficient tongue of his always managed to get you off, sometimes without the use of his fingers because you were already squirming in ecstasy as your release washed over you so satisfyingly. Now you just wanted to return the same blissful feeling to him.

"You know you don't have to." The tips of his forefinger and thumb gently grasp your chin to turn your head towards him. A soft smile and gentle eyes were so comforting from him, but it did not make you feel reluctant to do what you were planning to do.

Okay so a big part of you really wanted to suck his dick and being only inches away from his prominent hard-on was not going to diffuse your thirst to taste him. "But I want to," you said through a slight pout, pulling on his zipper.

Sungjin still tried to reassure you that you don't need to go down on him if you're not comfortable with it or if you felt pressured by him he's sorry and continued rambling on with nonsense about social norms so you had to shut him up.

"Christ Sungjin, just let me suck your dick!" The words had already flown out your mouth, making the sitting male swallow hard and undo his jeans for you.

You smirked in victory as you watched him lift his hips off the couch only high enough for him to push the clothing material down to pool at his ankles. The underwear he was still sporting showed the divine outline of his dick.

This wasn't the first time you've seen his dick, obviously, but the sight always makes you shiver with arousal. Speaking of which, your panties were practically soaked and you clenched your legs together. You expected Sungjin to pull his boxer briefs down but he didn't and when you glanced up, you saw his head shyly tilted to the side, arms stiff at his sides.

You then placed one hand on his thigh, moving his legs further apart to move in closer. WIth your other hand, you palmed him over the smooth cloth, garnering a stuttered jerk into your hand. You pleasantly observed his reactions, his ears were red, matching his cheeks, and his eyes were tightly shut. As you continued to slowly knead him, Sungjin grew impatient, craving more than what you were wantonly giving him.

"___, at least don't tease." He breathes out a silent beg and god did you not hesitate.

You used both hands to hook the top of the fabric to pull down and his throbbing cock came into view. The engorged tip was an angry red, lightly wet with pre-cum. You swallowed a nervous lump down your throat, preparing it to be able to take his length.

Sungjin's shlong was impressively above average but not too big to make you think he'll rip you open. He had your preferred length in a guy with a lush girth that always provided you with a delicious stretch.

You grasp his cock in your hand, a light grip on it as you brought it to your lips and darted your tongue out to take a kitten lick. Sungjin pressed his lips together, his body involuntarily slouched a bit down and his dick pressed against your lips. You took this as an encouragement to open your mouth and take all of his head inside.

Your mouth was hot and wet, causing the male to have a sharp intake of air. He didn't expect your mouth to feel so good; he had to clench his fist to stop his keen desire to thrust upwards and watch you choke on his dick.

He wanted you to take your time even though he would've loved to be buried in your beautiful throat.

You licked all around his head then sucked fervidly and kept repeating those movements while slowly taking more and more of his cock each time you pulled away. Sungjin was going mad, his chest heaving as he lets out subdued groans. The tip of his dick finally grazed the back of your throat and you couldn't take any more of him so you used your hand to give him languid strokes where your mouth couldn't reach, spreading your saliva to make the glide more pleasurable. That's when he lets his hips snap forward, causing you to pull back with a choke.

"F-Fuck, shit, sorry." he stammered and when he opened his eyes to look at you- lips puffy with soft pants leaving them, eyes so pure it conceals the tinge of color on your cheeks, and a thin thread of your spit connecting from his dick to your lips, a sight so erotic he swears he could almost cum from it.

His cock twitched in your hand and his hips started to thrust, trying to make up for the lost simulation he so desperately craved. You accepted his apology by descending your head once again and taking more of him this time, tears beginning to swell up in the corner of your eyes. A ragged breath was forced out of Sungjin and when you started bobbing your head again, he couldn't suppress his moans of bliss. He watched your cheeks hollowed as you passionately sucked him, creating obscene noises as you did so.

"God, ___, where did you-- ungh- learn to do this?" Sungjin reached forward and kept the strands of your hair from falling on your face and blocking his rapturous view of you sheathing his dick in your mouth so perfectly.

You moaned around him as a response, not able to talk with your mouth full and all. The vibrations sent him into a frenzy, his hips instantaneously driving upwards and his hold on your hair tightened. He controlled the movements and speed of your head and you forced your eyes to stay open and gaze at him.

You could tell he was close by his expression. Mouth agape, nostrils flaring and the overflowing lust in his eyes as he held eye contact with you. Even though he manipulated your mouth on his thick meat, he didn't force you to take all of him all at once, only bringing your head down on half of him before pulling you back up.

Sungjin moved his other hand up to gingerly cup your face and use his thumb to carefully wipe away the tear that never spilled. His thrust started to stagger, curse words cascading from his lips in guttural moans while never tearing his eyes away from you. "Shit, ___, baby I'm gonna cum."

With that warning, you removed his hold on your hair and started roughly sucking on his tip, swirling your tongue around it so lewdly as your hand pumped the rest of his length. One last growl ripped from his throat, his cum shot into your mouth and you moved your hand slower, helping him ride out his orgasm as his hips kept jerking sporadically. You continued stroking, swallowing his creamy load until you milked it all out of him and he pulled your head off of him, the sensitivity was too much for him to bear.

Sungjin swallowed dry after seeing you slurp up his cum like it was your favorite juice. "Damn..." he chuckled, feeling his coyness come back.

You weren't feeling shy any more though, finally had the chance to get him off. He surely wasn't stressed like he was prior in the day when you tried dragging him out JYP building.

"I didn't know you were so good at that." he continued to praise you and then his expression turned serious. "About earlier today, I was just worried about our music and how if the fans didn't like it, they wouldn't like us anymore. I let it get to my head, I'm sorry." As Sungjin apologized, his forever warm hand still cupped your face and his thumb was rubbing soothing circles on your soft skin. You took his hand in yours and planted a kiss on it.

"I forgive you, but next time when I tell you to take a break, you will, yeah?"

Sungjin nodded in compliance, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his hearty smile came on to show. "Yeah."

"Good," You said, standing up off your sore knees, taking your pants off in the process and crawling onto his lap with your legs at his sides. You started to grind on him, Sungjin's heart rate picking up once again as he felt your arousal through your panties. "You know, I could use a little break myself, wanna help me?" Your voice was sultry with words seemingly innocent but was nowhere near it.

He responded by gripping grabbing your ass and rutting upwards, his dick already pulsating for another release. You smirk at how hard he got already and leaned down to press your lips against his. A mewl emitted from you when you felt his fingers rub your clothed heat before hooking the material with his forefingers and pulling it to the side. Your slick juices coated his cock and your insides burned, ready for what's coming next.

[ilovemygaydad]

title: thievery and trickery

the unneeded sequel to yeah, no

summary: (again, a totally cursed crack fic) as deceit’s things start to go missing, he must venture into the light side to retrieve them. unfortunately, a former acquaintance is finding it the perfect opportunity to make him uncomfortable

pairing: one-sided roceit

warnings: spoilers for dwit, deceit, remus (once), ambiguously sympathetic deceit (it could go either way tbh), lots of sexual innuendos, suggestive language, swearing, frustration, yelling, anger, teasing, intentionally making someone uncomfortable, virgil is a major asshole, caps, implied sexual attraction, embarrassment, and possibly something else

@royallyanxious, since you asked to be tagged

special thanks to @fandomsandanythingelse for being my consultant on this

consider buying me a coffee (god knows i need it after this)

---

Deceit didn’t entirely remember why he had needed to venture into the lighter side of the Mindscape in the first place. It had been something to do with Virgil, that much was sure. Probably retrieving something that had been taken to the Light Side without permission that Deceit had tasked himself to retrieve. He couldn’t remember.

He did remember that he had entered the Light Side and immediately went to the nearest door to find good old Anxiety, only to find the room devoid of the side. Naturally, Deceit had gone further in, hoping to catch Virgil to complete his task. As he walked down the long hallway to the stairs, he checked the game room and the memory vault in case Virgil, for some unknown reason, had decided to skulk around like the emo disaster that he was.

Still nothing.

Deceit had sighed. He loathed having to go into the Light Sides’ common room. They were all, quite frankly, very rude to his person, and Roman was always there being his usual, pretty annoying self. However, he had a goal that needed to be fulfilled, so he trudged down the stairs with only a bit of a pout.

And the second that Deceit stepped into the commons, he knew that he was absolutely, royally fucked.

Because of course Roman chose this day of all days to drape himself on the couch like a god damned living painting. Sure, Creativity was in his normal outfit, but that didn’t make Deceit’s mind go any less haywire. For the briefest moment, Deceit’s mind flashed with all of the other, much better places that he’d like to see Roman in that position, but he put a harsh clamp over them faster than he could say his own name. He’d been assaulted by Remus enough for merely flirting with Roman in the courtroom doing his job; there was exactly zero way in hell that his ass wouldn’t get kicked if any of his stray thoughts ended up in Remus’ hands.

Not to mention that in the corner of the room, staring right at him was Virgil freaking Sanders with the same shit-eating grin that Deceit used to love seeing. The sickeningly sweet smile that foretold mischief.

Yeah.

Deceit was fucked, and he wouldn’t even have finished whatever the hell it was that he’d come to the Light Side to do!

“I don’t need something from you, Virgil,” he said regardless of his forgetting. There needed to be a reason for him to come here, or the others would get suspicious. Lying was what he did best, after all.

“No, of course not,” Virgil said. “You need it from someone else.” His eyes flicked subtly to Roman, who wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation, and back.

Deceit flushed. “That is what I meant.”

“No? I suppose it wouldn’t have been a need so much as a want, right?” He smirked; darkness glinted in his eyes with every word. “My mistake.”

“Oooh!” Roman said suddenly, looking up at the two. “Virgil messed up?”

“Wha—Do you only ever listen to make fun of me, Princey?” Virgil’s smirk turned into a scowl.

“I was merely surprised that you admitted to a wrongdoing. That’s a rare feat.”

“Dude, whatever.” Virgil stood up and walked to the stairs. “I’m gonna do some activities to work out my newfound frustration.” Then, just as he passed by Deceit, he winked and whispered innocently, “Maybe you should, too.”

“I will never understand him,” Roman sighed as he watched Virgil climb the stairs. “I do hope that he paints today, though. His pieces are always more interesting when he’s worked up.”

“Yeah,” Deceit laughed weakly. Without another word, he turned and left.

---

Life had a really fucking funny way of messing with Deceit. Hilarious, one might say.

To him, it was genuinely devastating.

Not three days after his little incident with Virgil, he was forced to go back to the Light Side because another one of his things went missing, and the first still hadn’t been returned. Undoubtedly, Virgil was making some attempt at payback for the courtroom by stealing his precious belongings (you didn’t just steal a guy’s heated blanket--that was cruel). Deceit just wished that he’d get his fill of revenge in a more tasteful way like salt in the sugar bag or bugs in his pasta.

Once again, Virgil wasn’t in his new room, and Deceit was forced to go to the commons. Where, once again and just to his luck, he was greeted by Virgil and Roman. Creativity was sitting on the floor, flipping through a book of jungle animals, and Virgil was next to him, pointing at the ones that looked cool. 

Deceit was unsure if either had noticed his presence until Virgil placed his hand on a page with a yellow and black snake. “What do you think about snakes, Ro?”

“Oh! I think they’re rather magnificent creatures! A truly misunderstood and beautiful animal indeed.”

“Uh huh. Y’ever touched one?”

Roman squinted his eyes, obviously trying to scan his memory for a time that he might have. His eyes seemed to have finally noticed Deceit, and he sent a small wave over before replying, “No, I don’t believe that I have.”

Deceit moved to the kitchen. He didn’t want Roman to think that he was staring or being weird.

Virgil looked over his shoulder at Deceit with a smug expression. “Do you want to touch one?”

Deceit had never been so close to dropping dead on the spot.

“I mean, why not?” Roman said, starting to flip pages again. “Their scales look so smooth, and I’m sure that they’re lovely to hold. Oh, and they do that little blep thing, which is just terribly adorable.”

“I’m sure that snakes would think that you were adorable, too.” The smile on Virgil’s face held a saccharine sweetness as he mouthed ‘Don’t you?’ at Deceit.

Roman cooed, and the anxious side turned his head at the exact second that Roman glanced back over at him. “Aw, Virgil! That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he muttered, feigning embarrassment.

“No, it’s really nice of you to say. Even Deceit would agree, right?” Creativity turned an eager smile to Deceit, who nearly flinched at the sudden attention.

“No. It isn’t nice,” he managed to choke out.

“See! You’re a nice guy, Virge.” Roman turned back to his book once more.

“Yeah.” Virgil innocently grinned at Deceit. “I guess that I am.”

---

The other things, Deceit could cut his losses and live without. He had extra blankets, and he had extra socks, but this? This was just plain criminal. 

What the fuck kind of a guy stole someone else’s snake?!

And it wasn’t just the snake herself! Virgil had taken the entire terrarium, all of Deceit’s supplies, and the entire freezer’s worth of food. If he weren’t so fucking pissed, Deceit would have been proud of the scheme.

“Virgil,” he growled as he pounded on the anxious side’s door. “Don’t give her back.”

The door opened, and Deceit almost lost it when he saw Virgil with Daisy on his shoulders, smiling softly. “What’s that?”

Angry venom dripped from Deceit’s words. “Don’t. Give. Her. Back.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Yeah, of course.” He snapped his fingers, and all of the snake stuff that had been littered behind him disappeared. 

Deceit was infinitely jealous that the laws of reality didn’t hit as hard in the Light Side as they did in the Dark Side. The only one who could summon things while in the Dark Side was Remus, and no one wanted to ask him for things. It had taken Deceit three weeks of fighting tooth and nail to get Roman to give him Daisy. It had been the worst three weeks of his entire life.

“And the snake?”

Virgil shook his head, softly. “Yeah, sorry. I thought you’d want to take her home with you, so I didn’t snap her with.” He gently lifted Daisy from his shoulders and placed her in a small heap in Deceit’s hands.

Deceit knew that he should be happy. His baby had been returned with little resistance, and he could go back to some normalcy, but at the same time, something was up. Virgil hadn’t been this cordial in... well, ever. 

“Right...” He looked at his wrist as Daisy slowly curled her way into a sentient serpentine bracelet. “Well, I’m gonna--”

“Oh my goodness! Is that the snake I summoned for your room?”

Virgil gasped, but Deceit could see the mischief in his eyes. “You summoned this cutie? I was just about to ask Deceit where he got her.”

No, you weren’t, you lying bastard.

“I almost forgot about her. How is she? Does she have a name?” Roman’s voice was gleeful, and it just made Deceit want to run away.

“Her name isn’t Daisy,” he said as he turned to speak to Creativity. “And she’s doing terribly.”

“Wow.” Roman looked completely starstruck. “Wow. I’ve never held a snake before; can I hold yours?”

It was subtle—it could barely be construed as something even minutely sexual—yet Deceit saw Virgil’s surprised smile at the unknowing bait. With full intentions to rush away, he stuttered, “Oh, um, I don’t know...”

“Hush,” Virgil drawled, pushing just a bit too hard on Deceit’s shoulder to be considered friendly. “Let him hold your snake.”

“She’s just too cute, Deceit! Please?”

Slowly, the side in question nodded and slipped Daisy off of his wrist. With the utmost care, he placed the coil in Roman’s hands. It honestly couldn’t get any worse.

Daisy lazily slithered her way up and around Roman’s arm, raising her tiny head right in front of Roman’s. Her little tongue darted out and touched his nose. Roman let out a tiny giggle.

The moment was swiftly ruined for Deceit by Virgil saying, “You know, I’ve never seen her like that except in Deceit’s hand. She just isn’t that perky on her own.”

“Ha ha,” Deceit said with fake enthusiasm. “Virgil, you are so funny! May I please have Daisy back so that I can go back to my room?”

“Of course,” Roman murmured as the snake was taken back. “She’s beautiful. May I visit her some time?”

Virgil latched his arm around Roman’s shoulders. “I’m sure she would be very happy if you did! Right, Deceit?”

“No.”

“Perfect!” Virgil began to lead the prince away. “Goodbye!”

“Bye...”

—-

“Roman, I need to be honest with you,” Virgil said a few minutes later. They were on the couch watching reruns of Parks and Rec, and Roman was still being very happy about his new snake friend.

“What about?”

“Well...” Virgil didn’t exactly know how to break the news. “The last few times that we’ve hung out, I was using you—“

“What—“

“Just to get back at Deceit! It was just so I could make him uncomfortable, okay?”

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Make him uncomfortable how?”

“He has this massive crush on you, and I found out about it right after the courtroom thing, so I’ve been using you and your pretty, unaware face to form, uh... innuendos? I was stealing some of his stuff so he’d come to our side of the Mindscape, and I made sure to be with you.” Virgil laughed awkwardly, hoping Roman wouldn’t hate him forever for his evil scheme.

“You... you’re kidding, right? Deceit is thirsty for me? I mean, I know that I’m a snack and a half, but him?”

“Yeah.”

Roman looked at Virgil with a disbelieving expression. “And you used me to get into his head?”

“Mhmm. A couple of well timed questions here, your idiocy sprinkled in every so often... Poor guy was outie in less than five minutes.” Virgil smirked, resting his head on the back of the couch. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Man,” Roman laughed. “I can’t believe we vanquished Deceit so quickly, and all it took was him having a simple crush on me!”

“SO HE DOES WANT TO FUCK YOU?!” Remus screeched from his new perch on top of the kitchen table.

The two sides on the couch screamed. Well, nothing was truly a perfect solution...

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Four

summary: Two unexpected visitors, one with an apology, one decidedly not. word count: 6k warnings: Men being held accountable for their actions, can I get a hell ya a/n: Hey guys! This is the second to last chapter! Next week will be the Christmas epilogue, so prepare yourselves! This one is actually one of my favorite chapters, so I hope you enjoy.

[ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

Christine’s sling came off two weeks after the incident. She would have partied, or cried, or done something to celebrate. Something more interesting than going to work. But after what had happened with the spray paint and the missing candy, she was already on thin ice. If she wanted to keep her job at the Hawk, she needed to show up to work. 

Still, Anthony had been kind enough to switch up her duties. The sling was gone, but she was still on crutches, which meant it was still hard for her to get around. Joey was taking over the concession stand and cleaning duties, while she sold tickets and ran the projector. She knew Joey wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement, but complaining made him look like a dick. You couldn’t be mean to a cripple. 

So that’s where Saturday morning found her—in the front booth at the Hawk, selling tickets to the new comedy they’d just gotten in. Hawkins was already getting colder, and Anthony had grudgingly allowed her to wear a plain black sweatshirt while she was upfront. It was the best she could do while she waited for her new uniform to come in. Her shirt and bowtie had never been collected from the school. 

Christine tapped her pencil against her head, trying to decipher the physics notes in front of her. Steve had been attempting to take notes while she was out, and had kept it up for the last two weeks. She could tell he really was trying, but his handwriting was crap. He also kept misspelling words like “electromagnetic,” “gravitation,” and “field,” which added a whole layer of mystery to the subject. So she was going back over the papers to amend and copy them. This way they could study off something that actually made sense. 

She was just erasing one of the bullet points when a familiar, gruff voice spoke through the glass. 

“Uh, hi. Can I get one ticket to…uh…whatever the hell you’re playing this week?” 

Christine did not look up. She jabbed her pencil to her right, gesturing to the giant movie poster on the wall. 

“Oh. Right. A Christmas Story. Sounds great.” 

She rang up the ticket and passed it through the window. She still did not look up. 

“How much?” 

She tapped on the top of the cash register at the numbers that had popped up. There was a grumble from the other side of the window. The money came through the slot, and she counted it out to make the change. It was company policy to end transactions with, “Enjoy your movie!” Christine decided not to follow company policy. 

“Just curious,” the voice started again, determined. “When are you guys gonna get something new?” 

Christine held up two fingers. 

“Two…? Two what? Two days? Two weeks?” 

She shook the two fingers again. 

“Fine. And what’s that gonna be?” 

She pointed her pencil at the opposite poster. 

“Huh. Christine. How about that? Not about an annoying babysitter is it?” 

Christine finally lifted her head, glaring at Chief Hopper through the glass. 

“It’s a horror movie about a haunted car. Will that be all?” 

“Horror movie,” Hopper said, with the minimum amount of interest. “That the kind of stuff you’re into?” 

“Why?” 

“Just trying to have a conver…” 

“Why are you here?” 

Hopper stopped, narrowing his eyes at her. “Just came to check in. See your arm’s out of the sling. How’s the leg?” 

“Still broken.” 

“And uh…any…any unexpected visitors?” 

“Who wants to know? You or the Department of Energy?” 

Hopper frowned. But he didn’t deny it. That was good. If he had, Christine might have landed her arm back in the sling trying to punch him through the glass. 

“Forget it,” he grumbled. “I’m just here to watch the movie.” 

He tapped his ticket on the counter and started to walk away. 

“You know the worst part?” Christine blurted before he’d gotten too far. “I actually thought it was gonna be Mrs. Byers. I figured, desperate mom looking to find her kid. What if she decides to make a trade for Will? But Joyce doesn’t have it in her. She never would have done that to Eleven.” 

“Hey!” Hopper stormed back to the glass, looking frantically up and down the street. “Keep your damn voice down, kid. Do you want to end up in a lab cell, too?” 

Christine’s heart nearly snapped in half. 

“Is that where she is? At the lab?” 

The chief’s face furrowed in frustration, and he leaned heavily against the counter. 

“No. No, she’s not at the lab. I’ve been keeping an ear out, but it doesn’t look like she’s anywhere.” 

“Good. Wherever she is, I hope it’s far away from you.” 

“I did what I had to to save Will Byers.” 

“Yeah, and El paid the price. You just gave her up as collateral, after everything you said. All that bullshit about not letting a kid go back to a prison like that. And I was actually stupid enough to believe it.” 

“I tried, okay?” he said impatiently. “How do you think the cops got there so fast, huh? I sent in the tip to cut the agents off.” 

“And look how great that worked out,” she spat. “The kids had no one to help them, and Eleven had to go up against the Demogorgon alone. Whatever happened to her after that, that’s your fault. If she’s…If she’s dead? That’s on you.” 

Christine abruptly cut herself off, staring blankly down at her physics notes. She had no idea what she expected to get out of this conversation. It wasn’t going to bring Eleven back. It wasn’t going to change anything. She couldn’t have been the only one who put the pieces together. But for some reason, none of them were talking about it. Like they were so grateful to have Will back that they wouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth. Well, if no one else was going to put up a fight, she would. She would punish Hopper in every way she could. Even if that was only with extra sass and overpriced movie tickets. 

He was still hovering on the other side of the glass, his massive form casting a shadow on her notes. It was very annoying. 

 “You tell the kids any of this?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because they’ll probably do something stupid, and I’m hoping Dustin can make it through middle school without jail time.” 

“Right. So if someone eggs my house, I should assume it’s you?” 

The sound of his chuckle filled her with fury. This was Eleven they were talking about. A real girl, who was really lost, all because of his really stupid decision. And he was laughing at her. 

It made her reconsider breaking through the glass. 

But Chief Hopper seemed to sense the storm he’d stirred. He held up his hands before Christine could open her mouth. 

“I deserve worse, I know. But try and keep it hypothetical, huh? Sure your folks want you to make it through high school without jail time, too.” 

Christine clenched her newly freed fists. “Enjoy your movie, Chief.” 

He nodded and backed away from the counter. She turned back to her notes, which seemed even more incomprehensible now than they had before, but he wasn’t done annoying her just yet. 

“What’d you feed her? When she was living with you?” 

It was so out of left field, it took her a second to respond. “…Why?” 

“Just curious.” 

Christine frowned down at her homework. Her pencil hovered over one of Steve’s doodles, where it looked like he’d been playing tic tac toe against himself. She traced a circle around the grid, unable to restrain a smile. 

“Eggos, mostly. She really liked waffles with whipped cream.” 

Hopper didn’t respond. She heard the door open, and when she looked up, he was already gone. 

Whatever the chief had wanted out of their conversation, Christine hoped he’d gotten it. All she’d gotten was the uneasy sense of being watched, of being in the dark. She’d been confused a lot over the last month, but somehow it still felt like she didn’t know everything. She was still reeling when Claudia came to pick her up at the end of her shift. Thankfully, her spaciness was easily disregarded. If there was one thing her cast was good for, it was excuses. 

Claudia drove her to Big Buy, and together they did their grocery shopping. Even then it was hard to put Eleven out of her mind. The automatic doors at the front of the store had only just been replaced, and there were still fragments of glass that refused to be swept off the sidewalk. The manager, Robert, had spent the first week telling anyone who would listen that a little girl had broken it with her mind. After business had taken a hit, he changed his tune. It had just been a malfunction with the door wiring, and everything was all fixed now. 

Christine smiled wryly at the thought. She grabbed her own box of Eggos and dropped it into the shopping cart. 

It was a pretty light trip to the store. Christine had to limit herself to three bags if she wanted to be able to walk. Claudia was more than happy to help, but Christine always waved off her offers. There were only two people in the Walcott house, and neither of them ate as much as they should. She could manage the groceries on her own. 

“Hey, Dad! I’m home!” She smacked the front door closed behind her, and limped her way into the kitchen to start putting away the food. “I just got the basics. Mostly cereal, bagels, more Pop Tarts. There’s some chicken in the freezer if you wanted to do that for dinner. Otherwise it’s Chinese or pizza. Or burgers, I guess, if you wanna make the drive. What’re you feeling?” 

Not for the first time that day, Christine didn’t get a response. 

“Dad…?” 

She put the essentials in the fridge, then poked her head into the living room. Her father was, in fact, home. He was sitting in an armchair, newspaper held up in front of him. 

“Dad, did you hear me? I asked what you were feeling for…” 

“There is a boy in your bedroom.” 

Christine stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“There is a boy in your bedroom,” he repeated. He folded the corner of the newspaper, briefly checking his watch. “He’s been in there for about…oh, thirty minutes.” 

“…okay…who is it…?” 

“I don’t know. He didn’t care to introduce himself.” 

“Right.” Christine nodded, still not following. “And you just…let him into my room?” 

“Oh, I didn’t let him anywhere. He climbed through your window.” 

Christine choked on air. Her father, on the other hand, just continued to stare at his newspaper. 

“I’m sorry, he—he what?” 

“Climbed through your window. I watched him try and sneak around the house, trip in front of the living room window, and stop outside yours. Took him a good five minutes to get it open.” 

“Uh huh.” Somehow, Christine was still waiting for a punchline. “And you just decided to…to not do anything about it, huh?” 

“I wanted to ask you about it first. See if you were expecting any visitors.” 

“Uh, no. Definitely not.” 

“I see.” Her father casually turned the page in his paper. “Gotta say. That answer does not feel as reassuring as I hoped it would.” 

Christine rolled her eyes, and was halfway to another quip when a thought occurred to her. Unexpected visitors… 

“I’ll handle it, Dad,” she said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just one of the kids playing a pranks, so uh, don’t go for the shotgun yet. I’ll let you know.” 

“Okay. And be careful! It sounded like he knocked over a stack of your cassettes.” 

“What? Oh. Yes. Yeah, uh, will do.” 

She hurried down the hallway, fast as her crutches would carry her. Could it really be her? It wouldn’t be the first time she was mistaken for a boy. And if she was sneaking around—she should be more careful. Coming here, especially when Hopper was looking for her, it was entirely too dangerous. 

Christine nearly tumbled into her own room. She looked around, out of breath. But she did not find what she was expecting. 

“Steve?” 

“Sh, sh, sh!” Steve sprang up from where he’d been sitting at her desk, and hurried to close her bedroom door. “Keep it down, alright? I had to sneak in through the window. Your dad doesn’t know I’m here.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Uh, nothing. I just…you know. I…wanted to check up on you.” 

“You just…?” Christine gaped at him. “And this required breaking into my house when I wasn’t home?” 

“Well, now—hey,” he said defensively, holding up his hands. “I didn’t know you weren’t home. I know you usually get off work around now, so I was just guessing, and—and I didn’t break in, okay? Nothing is broken.” 

Her eyes strayed over to her dresser, where several of her cassettes had been scattered across the top. Steve grimaced. 

“Technically, those are not broken. I just…knocked them over when I tripped. Sorry. I uh…I hope you didn’t have them in any specific order.” 

“I did.” 

“Ah, okay, well uh…if—if you want help putting them back or something, I could…help?” 

She stared at him, still trying to wrap her head around the image. Steve Harrington was standing in her bedroom. His face still horrendously bruised, and wearing a green T-shirt that matched her carpet. He was just standing there. There was her poster of Indiana Jones. There was her poster of Han Solo. And there was Steve Harrington. There was her closet, still open from her morning’s search for a black sweatshirt. There was the towel on the floor from her shower. And there was Steve Harrington. 

 Christine gulped. He’d been waiting in her room for thirty minutes. Alone. The thought filled her with panic, though she had no idea what she might be hiding. 

“Did you touch anything else?” she demanded. 

“What? No! No, I didn’t—I barely even looked. I didn’t look. At anything. Sorry.” 

His nervousness had the curious effect of calming her down almost immediately. If nothing else, Steve looked just as uncomfortable in her room as she felt to have him there. Which only begged the question further. 

“Seriously, Steve. What are you doing here?” 

“Right, yeah.” He nodded and, right on cue, ran a hand through his hair. “Can…Can we talk?” 

She nodded without really processing the question. She let Steve help her over to the bed. He grabbed the desk chair he’d been sitting in and dragged it over. Steve did not sit down. He paced back and forth behind it a few times, drumming his fingers on the back. Christine had only seen him this nervous one other delightful time. 

“Look, Steve,” she said flatly, “if you’re here to talk about Nancy, I can’t help you. She’s dealing with a lot right now, and I don’t know what…” 

“Nancy?” he asked absently. “No, this isn’t about Nancy. Nancy doesn’t even know I’m here.” 

“She doesn’t?” 

“No. Well, she doesn’t know I’m here right now, but she knew I was coming.” 

“She did?” Somehow, this was even more baffling than the first statement. “You told Nancy you were coming?” 

Steve stopped pacing abruptly, and plopped down into the desk chair. “How’s your leg?” 

“Oh it’s…fine…” She stared down at the cast, almost surprised to see it. “I mean, it’s still broken.” 

“Right,” he said with a small grin. “So your leg is about as fine as my face.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 

“No, I know it is. You can be honest.” 

“Oh, I meant my leg,” she said cheekily. “Your face still looks like shit.” 

Steve gawked at her for a moment, then choked out a laugh. “You—jeez. Alright. Pulling no punches, today.” 

“Hey, you wanted honestly.” Christine smiled, looking at him expectantly. “So…?” 

“Your leg, right.” Steve leaned forward in the chair, his elbows propped on his knees. “Well, seeing as you still can’t ride your bike, I was thinking I could give you a lift to school if you wanted.” 

“…Seriously?” 

“Yeah, sure. You’re only a couple blocks away from me anyway. And then I was thinking, you know, since you still need someone to carry your shit, Nancy and I could take turns walking you to class. This way she can stop freaking out about missing so much school.” 

A heavy, knowing feeling settled in the pit of Christine’s stomach. 

“Steve, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he said jovially. “I don’t care about missing class.” 

“No, I mean any of it. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” 

“Oh.” He paused, looking crestfallen. “Why not?” 

Christine wet her lips. It made it slightly less painful when they split into an incredulous, wounded grin. 

“Because I don’t love being used, Steve. If you wanna patch things up with Nancy, that’s great. Good luck. But don’t use me to get your redemption. I don’t need your pity. Either of you. I honestly thought we were past all this.” 

“What—We are!” He nearly jumped forward out of his chair, waving his hands in front of him. “Chris, I’m not here because Nancy asked me. And—And I’m not here to make it up to her.” 

“Oh, right. You just had some completely unrelated conversation with her before you came to my place. Honestly, Steve, I know I’ve been dumb, but I’m not that dumb.” 

She tried to slide off of the bed, but Steve forcibly pushed her back into her seat. 

“No, no, no. Look, Nancy doesn’t even know about the carpool thing, okay? That’s all on me. I went to her to ask for permission to talk to you about some other stuff.” 

“Permission?” Christine echoed. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or outraged. “Why the hell would you need permission?” 

“Because…Because Jonathan was right. I know you and Nancy were fighting, and yeah, a lot of it was because of Barb or the Upside Down or Jonathan or whatever. But it was also because of me. Because I was being a colossal shithead, to both of you. And I wanted to talk to you, but…I didn’t want to start anything on accident.” 

Steve sat back down in his seat, his hands folded in front of him. He was watching her anxiously. It looked like he was waiting for her response before he went any further. 

“Oh,” was all she could muster. “That’s…thoughtful, I guess.” 

“I’m trying,” he said earnestly. “Also, I didn’t want one of you badasses to beat my face in any more than it already is.” 

Christine bobbed her head slowly. “So, what was the other stuff you wanted to talk about?” 

The question made him look almost as nervous as the Demogorgon had. But Steve swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“I meant what I said that night. About wanting to make things right. I’ve done…a lot of shitty things, to a lot of different people. I went to Jonathan’s to apologize about his camera, but…obviously things didn’t go that way. And now with his brother home, he’s got more important things to worry about than whether or not he wants to forgive me. 

“I apologized to Nancy, for…well. The thing at the Hawk. It was dumb, and I was hurt and overreacting for absolutely no reason, and I know I can’t erase it. Well…like I literally erased it, but it doesn’t…yeah. And she says she gets it, but that she still needs time, which I totally get. So I asked her if she thought I could talk to you without making things weird, because…I’ve been going around apologizing to people and…and I still haven’t apologized to you.” 

He was quiet for a worrying amount of time. He was just looking down at his hands, perfectly still except for the rise and fall of his chest. Christine nearly kicked him to make sure he was still awake. But finally, Steve looked up at her. He almost looked bashful. 

“I just wanna start by saying that…I honestly don’t expect you to forgive me at this point. Which is kinda why I’ve been putting it off. It’s a pretty long list of bullshit so…if you’re gonna punch me, just try and wait until the end, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly. 

Steve wiped his hands down his face, and started from the top. 

“Alright, well, first off—I’m honestly not that busy with basketball. I lie about that all the time to just about everyone so I can get out of chores and homework and everything else. I just hate physics. I don’t understand it, and I know you’re really good at it, so I let you do all the work so I can get a good grade without having to do anything. I lied because I knew that you’d do it for me. And I did the same thing when I invited you to Jenny’s party so I could hook up with Nancy. And when I invited you to my party so Nancy would come too. And when I asked you not to talk to the cops about the beers so I wouldn’t get in trouble. And…when I asked you come talk to me at the Hawk so Tommy could spray the building. 

“All of it was—I was wrong on so many levels. I was a manipulative son-of-a-bitch. I was self-centered, and—and arrogant, and honestly—I just really liked knowing that you would do things for me if I asked. I guess it…I don’t know. It made me feel good about myself. So…So I used what I may or may not have known about…how you may or may not feel about me, just to get what I wanted. Which is like, super fucked up. And I don’t know if it counts for anything, but…I’m sorry. And I don’t want to be that guy anymore.” 

None of this was news. Logically, Christine had known everything he’d said. She’s known Steve had been using her. She’d known he’d been doing it on purpose. She’d known that he had to have been clued in to something about her if he realized how he could manipulate her like that. 

But somehow, hearing him say it was so, so much worse. Having to listen to him say the words, “how you feel about me”…she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more mortified in her life. 

She felt about ready to vomit. But she was still in a cast, and Steve was sitting nervously between her and the bathroom. It probably wouldn’t be good form to excuse herself to upchuck before they finished the conversation. 

Christine smiled, knowing it was supposed to suppress the human gag reflex. 

“Hey, it’s a two-way street, right?” she said, awkwardly. “I let you do it. It’s not like I didn’t know what was happening.” 

“You knew?” 

The thought honestly seemed to surprise him. Christine laughed for real, still dangerously close to tears. 

“Yeah, Steve. I knew. You’re not that smooth.” 

“But…if you knew it was a load of bullshit, then…why did you keep playing along?” 

She must have given him the bitch face to end all bitch faces. She’d explained a lot of simple concepts to him in the past few months as his lab partner. She was not about to explain that. 

Steve’s face dawned with realization, and he grimaced. 

“Sorry, that’s…I’m a fucking idiot. In case you haven’t noticed.” 

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.” 

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She’d meant it as a slight, to mean that he was such an idiot, it was impossible to ignore. But in her mouth it just sounded like another compliment. Of course she’d noticed he was oblivious. She noticed everything about Steve, from his GPA to his cologne to his favorite breakfast sandwich. What hadn’t she noticed when she’d been spending all her days watching him? 

Thankfully, Steve was just oblivious enough that he didn’t pick up on her tone. 

“I am an idiot,” he agreed, with a smile. “I just meant that—you know, you’re way too cool to be taking orders from a douchebag like King Steve.” 

That one threw her for a loop. 

“I…what?” 

Steve stared at her, seemingly just as surprised. 

“Christine, you’re awesome. Just this month I’ve watched you finish four science projects, hold down a job, empty a shotgun into a monster and then jump into a hole in the ceiling to save a kid you barely knew. You got thrown into a wall—hell, even just the fact that you punched Tommy H! I mean, maybe you haven’t noticed, but…you’re kinda a badass.” 

Her stomach could not digest the butterflies fast enough. It was infuriating. 

“Shut up, Steve,” she said, shaking her head as he laughed. 

“No, I’m serious! You’re a badass, you’re a genius, and you’re just…a really good person. And if by some miracle you don’t want to deck me, or jump ship and tell Mr. Austin you’d rather die than try and read my handwriting again, then…I’d really like to put in the work as your lab partner. And maybe be a better friend.” 

Friend. Christine had to stow away her bitterness before it shone through. It was what she was going to get. Steve liked Nancy. Nancy liked Steve. Christine would not stand in the way. After all, it wasn’t all that different than it had been before. She would do what she had to if it meant spending time with him, and preserving her friendship with Nancy. She’d get over him and get used to it, because that was life. Sometimes, you had to put your own feelings aside. 

“Friends, huh?” Christine stroked her chin dramatically. “I don’t know. Friends with Steve Harrington. That’s a pretty exclusive club.” 

“Oh yeah,” he said, with an exaggerated nod. “So exclusive that membership is currently running at about oh, uh…zero. So, we could use the numbers.” 

“Well, I guess that settles it.” Christine pushed herself closer to the end of the bed, extending her hand. “Consider me member number one.” 

Steve beamed. It looked weird, with his broken face, and his eyes that were still a little too bloodshot to be normal. His mouth couldn’t make it all the way up on the right side, because his lip was still split. Still, he grinned like none of it could bother him, and clapped his hand into her own. 

“So I’ll drive you?” he asked, even sounding hopeful. 

“If you want to,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t want to make you look bad. I mean, Tommy will probably wonder why you’re riding with Psycho Bitch…” 

“Screw Tommy. He’s an asshole anyway, and if he ever calls you that again, I’ll make sure his face looks worse than mine.” 

Christine raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but decided not to comment. As his friend, it probably wasn’t nice to tell him he would lose that fight in a heartbeat. 

“I do have one condition, though,” Steve added with a grave look. 

“Besides my forgiveness?” 

“Yeah. We are not listening to your music in my car.” 

“Excuse me?” Christine’s jaw dropped and she glowered at him. “What’s wrong with my music?” 

“I know! I’m sorry! It just—It seems kind of limited.” 

He got up from his chair and circled around the bed, heading back to the dresser where her cassettes were still scattered. Christine grunted, and had to barrel roll clumsily on the bed to keep him in sight. 

“I only got a quick look when I was picking up the tapes, but come on! Look at this! Piano Man, Billy Joel. Cold Spring Harbor, Billy Joel. Elton John, well, Elton John. Blonde on Blonde, Bob Dylan…that actually doesn’t sound bad. Oh look! Nylon Curtain, Billy Joel. Night at the Opera, Queen—that can stay. And, what a surprise, we’re back to Glass Houses by Mr. Billy Joel. I mean, where’s your Blondie? Where’s your MJ? Where do you get this stuff?” 

She smiled. “A lot of it’s my mom’s.” 

“So what? She makes you listen to all her stuff? I’m gonna have to sneak you a mix or something cause this collection is…phew!” 

She decided to wait rather than say anything. It wasn’t long until he realized what was wrong. He was holding one her tapes up to the light, squinting at the tiny font. The squint ebbed away until he was finally staring at it with eyes blown wide. Gently, he put it down on the dresser again. 

“Christine, I’m—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” 

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “You can’t know if I haven’t told you.” 

“Yeah, but you did. You did tell me. At Jenny’s party, you said it was just you and your dad and I…I just don’t listen. Sorry.” 

“Guess we can work on that too. That and your handwriting.” 

Steve laughed politely. Christine was still smiling, and she beckoned with her hand. Steve dropped the Billy Joel cassette into her palm, and hesitantly sat next to her on the bed. 

“She got sick when I was about four,” Christine confessed, flipping the tape in her hands. “In and out of the hospital with kidney problems. Eventually we had to move out of New York so she could get around the clock care. She couldn’t move a lot, so she’d just listen to a massive amount of music. I remember the nurses used to yell at her for singing too loud…and then, um…she died when I was six. That’s when Dad and I started doing the whole move around the country thing.” 

“This guy her favorite?” Steve asked, tapping the tape. 

“Yeah. He’s from New York, so she was always really big on him. State pride and whatever. He only had two albums out at the time, so the rest are mine. It just makes me feel closer to her, I guess. Like maybe it hasn’t been ten years.” 

“Hey, I get that. It’s not the same thing, but I don’t feel that close to my mom either. I don’t think I could even tell you what her favorite artist was. Just the stuff my dad has us listen to.” 

“Which is?” 

“Beatles, mostly. It’s not the worst, but…it’s kinda like the movie theater, you know? You listen to the same thing every day and…” 

“And suddenly ‘Blue Skies Forever’ is the worst song ever created,” Christine finished with a grin. “Yeah, I get you.” 

Steve plucked the tape from her hands, inspecting it with renewed interest. “So he’s your favorite too, huh? You got any recommendations?” 

“The Stranger,” she said without missing a beat. “1977. Not a miss track on it. I’ve probably got to get another copy soon, I listen to it so much. It’s in the other stereo though, cause…I was playing it for Eleven…” 

Her sentence trailed off, but Steve just nodded in understanding. She wasn’t sure how much he knew about what had happened the other week. She supposed it was a conversation he’d have to have at some point, but if felt like something Nancy should do. She was the only reason Steve had gotten involved anyway. 

 He nudged Christine’s knee with his own and gave her a bracing smile. “You’ll have to make me a copy too, huh?” 

“Hm…no. I don’t think so.” She enjoyed watching his face contort with shock, and couldn’t contain her smirk. “Make your own copy, Harrington.” 

Steve laughed too loudly, which died instantly when there was a knock on the door. Panic shot across his face, and he jumped up from the bed. 

“Shit! Shit, I’m—can you stall him? I can just head out, or—or hide in the closet, or…” 

“Yeah, Dad, come on in!” 

The door swung open, and her dad took his time stepping around the corner. He was wincing, afraid of what he might find inside. Christine wished he wouldn’t play it up so much. She was in a cast for Christ’s sake. How much trouble could she get into? 

“Hi,” her dad said awkwardly. “Are…we still having dinner?” 

“Yeah. I tried to ask what you wanted before but you never answered me.” 

“Right. I was…a little preoccupied.” 

His eyes shot to Steve, who was standing stock still in the middle of the room. Realizing he’d been spotted, he quickly composed his face into a smile. 

“Uh…h-hey! You—You must be Christine’s dad. I was just…just asking about some notes for school, so I thought I’d…” 

“Sneak in through my daughter’s window?” her dad finished coolly. 

Steve’s face flushed with terror once more. 

“Relax, Dad,” Christine scolded. “Steve, this is my dad. Dad, this is Steve Harrington. My lab partner.” 

“Your…lab partner,” her father repeated, turning to her with a knowing look. “Right. Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“Likewise,” Steve said quickly. His voice was about two octaves too high. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Walcott. Christine is…she’s like super smart. Probably the only reason I’m passing physics.” 

“I see. And…will you be joining us for dinner?” 

“Oh! No, I don’t want to be—I should probably just…” 

“Yeah, Steve,” said Christine, enjoying his discomfort. “We were just trying to decide between pizza, burgers and Chinese. What do you think?” 

It was hilarious how betrayed he looked. 

“Um, I don’t—no, I don’t think—you know, ha! Who am I to…?” 

“Come on,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve been living in Hawkins your whole life. You must know where all the best take out is.” 

“Yeah, but my parents…” 

“Would probably want you to study so you can start passing your physics tests instead of just your physics labs.” 

Steve glared at the thinly veiled threat. His eyes bounced nervously between Christine and her father, each more amused than the next. He ran a hand through his hair, and deflated. 

“Uh…burgers sound great. There’s a diner on the north side that does pick up.” 

“Great. Dad can call it in, and we’ll go pick it up.” Christine grinned, and herded Steve toward the door with her crutch. “We can listen to some Billy Joel on the way.”

[asphalt-cocktail]

Heat Wave

A/N: For @if-n0t-l8ter-when‘s 400 follower writing challenge! I know it is late and I’m sorry, but it took me forever to come up with something to write. Congratulations on 400, hun! If you don’t follow them and want some quality content on your blog, then make sure to follow right now! 

Warnings: Smut! Porn with absolutely no plot, unprotected sex, oral (M receiving), unedited because it’s 2 am

Word count: 2100

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Prompt: “You’ve got ice cream on your cheek... let me get it” Bolded in text

Summary: In the midst of a heat wave the air conditioning breaks in Stark Tower, consumption of sweet treats ensues as well as something sweeter. 

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You would think living in a multimillion-dollar tower, the air conditioning would work consistently, wouldn’t you? Well that wasn’t the case during this week at Stark Tower, which was also one of the hottest weeks this summer. You sat sprawled on the couch in just a sports bra and a pair of small cloth shorts; the goal for today was for to get away with wearing as little clothing as publicly possible. You groaned and brought the box fan closer to you and wiped your sweaty forehead “Why is it so fucking hot.” You groaned adjusting your position on the couch.

“It’s the middle of July, would you expect it to be 50 and cloudy?” You turned and caught a glimpse of Steve as he walked into the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes “No, I just expect this big fancy building to have an air conditioner that doesn’t go out for a week.” You answered getting up from your position and walking into the kitchen, you opened the freezer and pulled out a red popsicle, you turned and saw Steve, in just a pair of athletic shorts, eating out of the tub of ice cream, your face flushed seeing his well-defined chest and hair messy and sweaty as opposed to it being neatly quaffed.

He made a face at you “What?” He asked, “Are you going to tell Tony on me that I’m eating out of the tub?” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes “Not as long as you don’t tell Nat that I stole one of her popsicles.” You said turning back to your seat and sprawling out once again. Steve wandered over shortly and joined you on the couch.

The two of you sat in content silence, you slipped the popsicle between your lips that were red from the cold and dye and sucked on it, moving it in and out of your mouth, unaware of Steve contently staring at you. Once you felt his eyes on you, you turned towards him “Take a picture, I’ll last longer.” You said frowning.

He quickly turned away, caught red handed, and focused on his tub on his lap.

You caught the flush of his cheeks and saw your reflection in the mirror and finally noticed what he was staring at. You shifted your position and continued to slip the popsicle between your lips back and forth and swirling your tongue around it. Steve couldn’t help but turn his head and watch you, feeling himself grow hard against his thigh. You slyly smiled at him and slowly slid most of the popsicle into your mouth and pulled it back out, he bit his lip trying to suppress a groan.

Oh, you knew where this was going to lead. It was path you had been hoping to go down since the day you met Steve, there was just something about him that made you wish he would break your back like a god damn glow stick. You swallowed thickly “Stevie?” You said putting your popsicle down on the table not even caring about the sticky mess that it would cause. Steve hummed in response, there was a knot building in his stomach and he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opened it. You scooted closer to him and cupped the side of his face, “You’ve got ice cream on your cheek… let me get it” using your thumb you wipe some stray ice cream away. You brought your thumb up to your lips and licked it off.

“Thank you,” Steve’s voice cracked from dehydration and nervousness.

You smiled softly at him, still not having moved back to your original position. You studied his face as the two of you stared at each other and waited to see who would make the first move. His cheeks were lightly tinged red from the sun and you could see the perspiration on his forehead from the intense heat. A silence accompanied by the hum of the box fan you left near the couch fell between you two. Neither parties were bold enough to make the first move.

Who would do it?

Well that question was quickly answered when Steve hesitantly reached around the small of your back and pulled you flush against him, thus closing the space between the two of you. The touch of each other’s skin was searing and stuck together from the tacky sweat; you gasped at the sudden force and put your hands on his bare chest. His brows furrowed as he looked down upon you in frustration and cupped your face, his thumb began tracing your lower lip and you let out a shaky breath at the lingering and ghostly touches he left. You dipped your head and allow his thumb to slip between your lips and began lightly suck and swirl your tongue around it, he let out a soft groan and quickly replaced his thumb with his mouth with a firm kiss. He pushed you back on the couch and used his arm to hold himself up on the arm of the couch as the two of you became a tangle of limbs and tried to awkwardly fit on the couch. Steve didn’t seem to care though, he eagerly began to leave a trail of open mouth kisses down your neck and shoulders, leading down to your chest. Steve paused, “Do you want to take this somewhere other than the living room?” He asked.

You nodded your head and the two of you quickly scrambled to Steve’s room which was the closest. He playfully pushed you back on to his bed and you fumbled with your sports bra and peeled it off your skin. Steve was quick to engulf each of your breasts, licking and sucking until the nipples were hard, causing soft mewls to escape from your lips, and kissing down to the top of your shorts. He tugged on them and with your help was able to get them off, “No panties?” Steve asked.

You shrugged your shoulders and pushed yourself up “It was too warm I wanted to wear as little as possible”

Steve smiled and shook his head “It seems like you’ve achieved that goal.” He said and soon after he discarded the remainder of his clothing. You sat and stared at Steve in all his glory, perfect smooth skin, rippling muscles, and his now half hard member, you licked your lips and laid your head back on the edge of the bed in font of where he stood. He hummed “Let’s put that mouth to work.” He said, and you promptly opened your mouth allowing him to slide into your mouth with ease. He let out a low moan and began to thrust into your mouth at a slow pace, each time testing how much deeper he could go before you gaged, causing your throat to constrict around his cock. You reached down between your legs and began to rub at your clit, slowly circling it, causing you to let out a string of moans as Steve continued to thrust into your mouth. Your hips began to writhe, and you began to squirm, nearing your peak, but not before Steve pulled out of your mouth and pushed your hand away “I want to be the one to make you come.” He said firmly and brought your fingers wet with your arousal up to his mouth and greedily licked them clean.

He quickly flipped you over onto all fours and ran his hands over your bare ass before leaving a playful, yet crisp smack on your cheeks. You jumped from surprised and pushed back towards him, Steve smirked and began to tease your wet folds, brushing the tip of his erection between them and watching you squirm beneath him. He liked having this kind of control over you; “Just fuck me already.” You said impatiently.

Without warning, Steve inserted himself into you and began his brutal pace, you gasped and arched your back as the sudden fullness between your legs, he didn’t give you any room to adjust to the unfamiliar stretch. “Oh fuck,” You said pushing back against his thrusts.

The feeling of your skin sticking together from sweat some how made the encounter all the more arousing as Steve reached and grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled your back against his broad chest and continued to ruthlessly rut into you. You let out a breathy high-pitched moan and scrambled to find something to grab onto. This new position was hitting places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Your legs began to shake as Steve reached around and began to rub your sensitive and swollen nub in tandem with his thrusts. Your hair stuck to his shoulder and sweat dripped down your back and forehead, your moans and grunts laced with the sound of skin against skin was primal to say the least.

You knew you were going to come hard and your legs would give out upon your impending release “S-Steve?” You were out of breath “I- I can’t kneel like this anymore, I’m going to come” You practically sobbed your words.

Steve release his grip on your hair and slowed his thrusts “It’s okay,” He hummed “I’ve got you doll.” He said as he effortlessly turned you onto your back, the sight before you was almost enough to make you come right then and there. Steve’s hair was wet and pasted to his forehead and his chest glistened from the accumulation of sweat both from the heat and sex. His pupils were blown with lust while his lips were swollen and red, you sighed in content as Steve reentered you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He continued his relentless pace and loomed over you, biting his lip as he watched your breasts bouncing with each thrust and your chest heave. You were close and the both of you knew it, Steve hovered over you with one hand intimately cupped your face and the other was supporting him and he whispered filthy words to you.

You felt the knot building in your stomach about to burst at any moment “Fuck me harder.” You said while digging your nails into his shoulders and dragging them down his back causing angry red marks in their wake.

Steve sat back up and gripped both of your hips, he looked at you as if to make sure you were ready, the look on your face gave him the answer he needed. Quickly he began to drill into you and cause the headboard of the bed to continuously slap against the wall, the bed jutted and let out a loud groan before it slumped to one side, signaling that it had broken from the force, but neither of you seemed to notice. “Come on, sweetheart,” Steve said through gritted teeth “I want to feel you come all over me.” As if on queue your back arched and your body writhed as you finally achieved your release. You let out a slur of unintelligible words as Steve came shortly after, spilling within you, and nursed you both through your high.

Steve pulled out and laid beside you, you sighed as the warmth of his body left; the two of you laid in comfortable silence.

You were the first to break it “I’m sorry we broke your bed.” You said letting out a laugh.

Steve joined in the laughter “It’s okay, it was bound to happen.”

You rolled over and faced him “Breaking your bed, or the sex?” You asked

“Both?” Steve answered sheepishly, it was an interesting contrast to his brutish nature during sex.

You smiled and moved closer to him, “Maybe Tony can make you something stronger, for next time…” You said trailing off hoping he wouldn’t catch on to your last words.

“Next time?” Steve asked.

“Unless you don’t want one.” You answered him, getting defensive.

Steve furrowed his brows “Of course I want one, I’ve wanted one since you first moved in here.” He added.

You didn’t know if his thinking was skewed from the heat wave and dehydration, or if he was serious. You tried to push the negative thoughts aside and smiled “Me too.” You said, “I hope this isn’t the dehydration talking.” You added.

Steve grinned and pulled you into his chest warmly, both physically and emotionally, “It’s not I promise��� and with the reassurance needed you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep