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mushroommanstan · 2 years ago

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Spin the bottle

College au Tenko x reader

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Tenkos stomach twisted in anticipation, and he discreetly checked his breath for the umpteenth time before quietly taking his place amongst the drunken bimbos and himbos, all clumsily seated in a circle.

He couldn’t stop himself from scratching at his neck raw nervously, skin flakes and little flecks of blood fluttering down and landing on people who were stupid enough to sit too close.

He didn’t care that everyone was pressed shoulder to shoulder into each other as to give him enough space so that they don’t accidentally make contact with him. He didn’t care people were looking at him judgmentally before turning to one another and whispering something into their ear. No, he only cared about one thing, and one thing only.

Tonight, this blessed night, he’s gonna kiss someone.

Yes, the good old fashioned spin the bottle. The judgement free game that grants any player to brush off any mistakes or embarrassment as a joke. A game that, while he knew he was invited to as a joke, resulted in him losing all his clean pairs of socks before the party, leaving him with no choice but to show up in sandals.

Like he said, he knew he was invited as a joke. It was painfully obvious since, while he was being invited, a girl was play-slapping the inviter on the shoulder and begging them not to do it infront of him. But, they did anyways, laughing their ass off as they walked away, and now he’s here, squirming a little in excitement at the idea of kissing someone.

He really doesn’t care who, he swings both ways and even if he didn’t, he’s pretty damn desperate. But if he had to choose it would most definitely be you.

He’s had his eyes on you for a while now, literally, and couldn’t help but fantasize about you specifically when watching some cheap pornos. God, you were just great. He wondered what your lips would taste like. Hmmmmm…

“Alright y’all~” some blonde bimbo slurred. “We ready to start…?” She could barely keep her balance making her way to the center of the circle and carefully plopping the empty bottle down on the carpet. How it didn’t shatter, he does not know.

Excited murmurs and variations of “yes” erupted from them, and with that, the game began.

His heart leapt when the first spin was made. He was smiling in excitement, the same wide, creepy smile his countless foster parents would urge him not to make or try to control. But he couldn’t help it, he was so excited! And he didn’t care how scared that made the other players when they saw how he looked at them. Finally, finally he’s gonna taste some spit that wasn’t his own….

That didn’t come out right. But he meant it all the same.

The bottle came to a stop quite quickly due to the friction of the rug, landing almost perfectly opposite of him. That’s fine, he’s patient. He can wait.

He’ll wait for as long as it takes.

Round and round the bottle went, lips touching lips, none of them his as he waited in agony for his turn. It was torture, watching other people enjoy themselves while he had to just sit there and wait.

He had gotten excited when the bottle looked like it had landed on him, but was shocked when the bottle moved on its own, angling to his right where a hot blonde bimbo squealed in delight, puckering her lips. He knew the spinner had a wind quirk, and he could feel the cool breeze the guy has used to discreetly turn the bottles hull. But he said nothing, his face straight as he masked the hurt he felt from being cheated the kiss he so desperately wanted.

Finally, the time had arrived. He squirmed a little anxiously as he watched the same blonde bimbo depart from her own chosen kiss, lips puckered as she giggled innocently.

Then, as soon as he had reached for the middle, his fingers bracing for the touch of the cool glass, the guy next to him intercepted him, taking the bottle himself and spinning it without a care.

“H-hey! It’s my turn!” He stated, trying not to lose his temper else he makes a scene and gets kicked out.

The guy hesitated, stopping the bottle before looking around the circle, eyeing people’s reactions as if to gain feedback for what to do.

“O-oh, sorry…” he mumbled, backing off and taking his place. Tenko huffed, before taking a deep breath and reminding himself what was important.

He made contact with the bottle, feeling lightheaded and not being sure if it was due to the blood loss from his new neck injuries or from the excitement of this new opportunity, but either way it almost made him feel like he could pass out.

One look around the room would tell you everyone else felt the same; They all had pale faces and crossed fingers as if they were playing Russian roulette. But once again, he didn’t care.

Round and round it spun, the glass clunking around carelessly before settling down into a smooth spin. The tip flew by many faces, until eventually, it landed on you.

You didn’t have a chance to react as he sped across the floor on all fours, only stopping until he was mere inches from you.

You pursed your lips, ready to get this over with and just give him a small, quick peck. But unfortunately, he took initiative, grabbing you by the back of your head and, before you could react, pulling you in for a surprise make out session.

Tenko figured, to hell with it, if this is gonna be his only time kissing someone he’s gonna make the most of it.

He didn’t wait for entry, his tongue badgered against your lips until they gave way and infiltrated your mouth. Girls squealed and guys guffawed, but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was how good your spit tasted. How warm and soft your mouth was, how his tongue glided over yours with ease.

You were shocked at the feeling, not at all expecting him to be such a good kisser. You even found yourself moaning along with him occasionally as his tongue danced with yours.

Momentarily forgetting who you were with, you slowly reached over, cautiously resting your hand against the back of his head as well. He jerked at the contact, almost choking on your tongue, before somehow further intensifying the kiss, smooshing your faces together more until it almost hurt and crawling into your lap.

You both were so enthralled by the shockingly euphoric sensation that was the kiss that you hadn’t noticed when you fell over, now having Tenkos body fully on top of you. But you didn’t care, you just grabbed the hem of his hoodie and pulled him closer as he worked his magic in your mouth.

Distantly, you heard people murmur as the shock faded. “Oh my god they’re still going.” One said. “Jesus Christ what the fuck he’s really going at it.” Said another. But you didn’t care, neither of you did. You both just kept going, rubbing your hands along each others backs and softly moaning. You hadn’t even realized when you began to grind a little on him.

Eventually, people had had enough. Assuming you were being forced against your will (because why else would you be doing this), one particularly bold (and drunk) male grabbed Tenko by his hair and pulled him off of you, a small trail of spit still connecting you two for just a moment.

Tenko had no time to think, only guided by the feeling of being forced away from his dreams, his fight-or-flight reflexes, and the sensation of his scalp burning, which resulted in him clenching his fingers into a fist and punching said guy in the jaw before anyone else could blink.

Unfortunately, the guy still had Tenkos hair in his grip, causing a wad of hair to be ripped out of his head as he stumbled backwards and making Tenko cry out in pain along with him. He rubbed his head, and the guy his jaw, before the screams of nearby girls had helped reality strike Tenko and he realized what he had done. Immediately his face went red with embarrassment, and he swiftly left after mumbling a quick apology but not before taking a bottle of Tequila for later.

You were still panting, rubbing your thighs together as you whined in disappointment as he left. People gathered around to see if you were ok but you shrugged them off, racing after him. You knew this was a bad idea, it obviously was, chasing after the well known (but not proven) serial killer. However maybe it was the booze in your system, but no one had ever made you feel like that. You never knew he could be so… passionate.

And if that’s just a taste of what he can give you, then damn what the others will say, you want to chase that high even for just one night.

Just before he climbed into his car you shut the door infront of him. He avoided making eye contact with you for multiple reasons, expecting violence both physical and verbal, and didn’t notice your matching red flush.

“D…d-do you” you stuttered out, not being able to force the words out.

“No, it’s ok, I’m sorry, please just… it won’t happen again. All of it, all of it won’t happen again.”

“N-no! I-“ you shouted, before returning to your shy mumbling.

“D-do you maybe wanna come back to my place for some ‘seven minutes in heaven’?” You rushed out, avoiding eye contact.

He just blinked at you, his mind literally unable to process what you just asked. He looked behind him, confused before pointing to himself to which you nodded.

His back hit his car, leaning on it as he tried to process what you were proposing. You were joking right? With him? What are you, masochistic?

That, and the fact that he’d been popping a boner over just getting kissed. You can’t tell him now he’s gonna lose his virginity! But you weren’t just telling him. You were pushing him against his car, opening the door to the backseat and pushing him in as this time, you were the one who invaded his mouth.

You both didn’t even wait until you were back in your place, and let me tell ya, you thought his kissing was good, you were in for a treat when you saw what he was sporting downstairs.

#shigaraki tenko #my hero academia #shigaraki fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #tenko smut #tenko shimura #bnha smut

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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hello there i wanted to request #4 with ACOTAR Azriel? love u !!!

A/N - How cute for Azriel! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Join Me?

Summary - Tending to the sickly Shadowsinger was no easy taste, unless it was his mate.

Warnings - Just some fluff!

“Thank you again for the dinner, Elaine. Sorry we missed your dinner party—“

“It’s okay! I know how busy you two are, no wonder Az got sick from working too much! Just make sure Azriel gets something to eat, okay?”

“Will do!”

You waved goodbye as Elaine walked out of the townhouse, her mate Lucien waiting for her by the front gate with a tip of his hat to you. You waved, watching Elaine link with her mate’s arm as they walked down the cobbled street. Sighing, you closed the front door of the townhouse and looked down the hallway, into the spare bedroom that was on the first floor.

Azriel of course was sick, but he wasn’t going to say he was. Being the stubborn Shadowsinger that he was, he worked day and night for the past two weeks with missions that he completed. But because of that, there was no time for him to unwind and calm down, to get the proper rest that he knew he needed. Sure enough, a day prior, he came down with a nasty stomach bug and was bed ridden, not to mention the stress he was having made the sickness much worse.

Madja came over to check on him as soon as you sent for her, seeing him on the bed and look pale as a sheet she huffed at him. After a few minutes of examining him, she spoke to you right outside the spare bedroom he was confided him.

“No work for him for the next week! I’ll tell High Lord Rhysand if I must! He may be a Spymaster, but he’s no God.”

Unfortunately, that meant you had to cancel the dinner party you were invited to by Elaine and Lucien. You and Azriel were looking forward to it for weeks, knowing Elaine was an excellent cook and loved to host parties at her new little home. You are glad that Elaine was understanding, binging over two plates for you and Azriel, along with a batch of homemade soup that would help with Azriel’s illness.

Walking down the hallway, you already sensed Azriel’s stubbornness. You’ve dealt with his stubbornness before, plenty of fights of being going into danger or taking missions that were a risk to his life. There was never one time you would tell him he was pushing it too far or going beyond his limit, yet Azriel took those times to heart. He was cruel or cold about it, yet he knew what he could handle.

So this time was new to him: being bedridden on Madja’s orders.

You tapped the door, poking your head in and seeing Azriel perched up in one of the lounge chairs next to the bed. He looked a bit better, the color was slowly coming back to his face and under his eyes. The sheets were already changed thanks to the magic of the Townhouse, looking tidy and neat as if no one was laying there. But he was perched on the lounge chair next to the bed, two papers in hand and his eyes were scanning the writing. Seeing him shirtless and in his gray sweatpants would have been lead to another kind of night for you two if he wasn’t sick, but that would have to be another time. You sighed, closed the door behind you and placing the tray of food on the dresser.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” You reminded your mate as he sighed and rubbed his temples briefly.

“Madja told me to rest and put my legs up, not to be in bed,” He explained, though he saw you give him a hesitant look as he placed his papers down. Holding out his hand, he gave you a soft smile, “Join me?”

“And have you get me sick? Doubtful,” You replied, though seeing him sprawled out on the lounge chair was already temping since he was in his sweatpants. He cocked his head at you, the smile he knew would tempt you was evident on his face as you finally rolled your eyes. Walking over and taking his hand, he pulled you into his lap. Tucking your feet under your, you eyed with with carefulness as your eyes scanned his face.

“You look better, my love,” You voiced to him, reaching up to trace his face with your fingers, “Although maybe this be a lesson to you to not overwork yourself,”

“Lesson learned,” he replied, kissing the palm of your hand when he was next to his lips, “I feel as though I am no match for sickness and being bedridden like this.”

“Poor batboy, not knowing when you quit,” You teased, seeing him stick his tongue out at you while you giggled at him, “Be thankful that Madja is not the one to be tending to you here at home, or should I call her instead?”

“You wouldn’t dare do that to your mate!” Azriel said in a mocked challenged tone, you just smiling as he grinned widely, “I’ll be good, my love. And yes, I shall ease up on my workload,”

“You better, I wish for my mate to be in good health always, for I don’t think I could ever be in this world without you,” you reminded him, making it sound light. Yet Azriel read between the lines, even when you were trying to hide it.

You knew the dangers that came with being with Azriel, the lingering thoughts that he may not come back to you if something went wrong on a mission or doing one of his spying duties. You tried not to think about it a lot, but with a few close calls in the past and you thinking of the worst, you could only hope that you never had to be in this world without Azriel. He brought so much love and peace for you, and you knew you brought the same for him.

You two would be lost without each other.

Azriel cradled your face in his hands, you feeling the scars along your jawline and his palms against your neck as he stared at you intensely.

“I’ll never leave you alone in this world, I swear to you,” he promised, then kissing your nose and cheeks with ease as you felt that promise deep in your core. You then moved out of his hold and got the tray of food, walking back to sit in his lap again and see his eyes go rather large from the view of the food right under his nose.

“You better be thankful that you have a loving mate that will be able to feed you,” You teased, taking the spoon in hand and scooping up a bit mouthful of the hearty soup. Azriel, grinning like he won some kind of prize, leaned over to take the bite and swallow it down. Watching him melt a bit from the taste and the sensation in his throat made you laugh.

Caring for the deadly Shadowsinger may have ben terrifying to others, but it was another day as his mate for you.

The End.

June Spring Prompts

#azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger x reader #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #fanfiction #writing

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yeahponcho · 1 year ago

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IGNORE IF THIS IS TRIGGERING

TW: NEGLECT, ANIMAL ABUSE (by previous owner)

We just got a new boy today as a surrender and he is absolutely gorgeous. His name (unofficially still) is FlashBang!!! You can't see it very well because of his lamp but he's a banana boy with tangerine stripes and white lines down his back. He's super malnourished which I'm absolutely devastated about but I'm planning on spending as much time with him as possible. He's a year old and he's only 8 or so inches including his tail which rocks me out to my core. His nails are also double the length but he's a temperamental little glunkrus so I know that's gonna be a challenge. If you have any tips on anything regarding his care PLEASE let me know. I already plan on getting him a salad bowl, ceramic heater, big water dish, and a decent hide that he can grow into. He was sprung on us tonight around 8:30pm and it's now 1:30am the next day so he's definitely getting used to everything and I couldn't get out to a pet store since they were all closed :// ANY advice would be mega appreciated

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oh he's SO small for a year old... poor little guy's been through a lot. I'm glad he's with you now, it sounds like you're committed to doing right by him! I'm just gonna go over a bunch of things I can think of, so apologies if you might already know some of this!

he is malnourished but be sure to introduce food to him slowly, smaller portions at first to let him adjust to having food in his belly. too much at once can be detrimental, too. make sure to be dusting with calcium and a vitamin supplement at least a couple times a week. I like Repashy Calcium Plus personally. here's a great chart I use for food item safety and adding variety to the diet: http://www.beautifuldragons.com/Nutrition.html

I wouldn't worry about his nails right now, let him get settled first. I would recommend taking out the reptile carpet and get some slate tile, especially if its textured on one side he can start to file his nails down naturally just by walking on the tile! repti carpet is very difficult to clean, holds odor and bacteria, and they can get their nails stuck in it. you can get slate tile at hardware stores like Lowe's, and sometimes they can even cut it for you

a hide or two will definitely be excellent, chances are he's gonna be skittish at first while he adjusts so having a place to hide where he feels safe will help him.

try to spend a little time with him each day, talking to him and offering your hand, but not necessarily touching him if he gets worked up. I would also recommend putting his enclosure in an area where he will see you and others walk by, that way he can get used to your presence. even if you just watch TV in the same room where he can see you, it helps normalize your presence in his life. he likely didn't have a whole lot of socializing, so it may take some time, but I think he'll come around.

if you need any advice for lighting, I recommend the T5 fixture and Arcadia 12% UVB https://www.reptilebasics.com/arcadia-desert-12-uvb/arcadia-d3-12-uvb-t5-bulb-22/

this one will be for UVB only! ^

for heat, I recommend a ceramic dome fixture. for the bulb... I've used a variety of things. flood lamps from walmart, fluker's bulbs, etc. as long as you can get a temp range of 95-105 on the basking spot, you should be good.

this is something I learned only recently, but make sure you dont screw the bulb in too tight!! I was told this contributes to premature death of the bulb. I had no idea this entire time. you're only supposed to screw it in just enough that it's not wobbly or going to fall out.

a vet checkup couldn't hurt for this guy, either. if you can get a poop sample in to check for parasites, that'd be really good.

hopefully some of this is helpful to you, and I wish him well! I'd love to see an update on him after he's settled in and doing a little better. I'll be keeping the little guy in my thoughts <3 I know what it's like to have a beardie just given to you randomly and having to scramble to get the right stuff, that's how it was with quinnie. but he's come a long way and he's a lot more friendly than he used to be.

#submission #sodapopsky

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hurrakka · 1 year ago

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oh man. theoretically in a l4d au luis would've helped develop the green flu yeah? sure it's a naturally occurring virus in l4d canon (maybe. we're not really sure where it comes from cus ceda doesnt say shit but ellis mentions the government using bio-bombs in one of his keith stories so it could be a bioweapon?) but this is an au we can do what we want.

anygays im just imagining leon getting infected. we know better-safe-than-sorry-guy (i call him scout cus his va is the same as scout from tf2) is human when we first find him but experiencing extreme paranoia and some compulsions then a few minutes later he fully turns, going from able to speak and function to choking and growling and fully mutated (either into a hunter, boomer, or smoker) so there's always the possibility of a rapid transformation too. im thinking leon falling behind a bit while theyre walking because he's coughing and chokin and shit n he falls to his knees and luis is all like "bro whats wrong!!" and he gets to watch as leon Turns Before His Eyes. even better if he turns into a hunter cus if you look closely at their models they don't have eyes. we can't be exactly sure what Happens to their eyes when they turn but the two most popular headcanons are both equally brutal-- either Luis has to watch Leon's eyes quite literally melt out of his skull or he gets to watch him claw his own eyes out. Fun!

BUT there's graffiti in one of the safe rooms arguing over how long it actually takes to turn-- whether it's 20 minutes, 2 hours, overnight, or some other wacky chunk of time. so there's also the thought of Leon turning slowly. progressively becoming irritable and irrational and confused and him slipping in and out of conciousness for days until Luis goes to check his temp one day and he fucking Lunges.

and if leon turns and luis makes it out alive imagine the Guilt. he feels awful enough in re4 canon when there's a cure,,, but the green flu mutates too often to develop a proper cure for it. if leon gets infected and he isnt immune then he's just. done. theres nothing that can help him at that point. and luis already feels so goddamn guilty about the millions of people he's killed and now leon's gone too and he cant help but visualize every single person who had somebody ripped from them by his hands.

oh man and if luis has to put leon down? its joever. that man would Never recover. i dont even know if he'd keep trying to survive at that point. maybe just for that shred of hope of developing a cure (even though he knows it'd be damn-near impossible but it's the only thing hes got, dammit) and stopping this whole disaster.

coughs. sorry for the rambling i simply have been obsessed with l4d for going on 12 years now so <3

I had to lay down for a moment bc of the feels and potential outcomes in the event luis lives on while leon well...yeah (thinkin abt how buddy from re damnation would jus turn as well since leon is no longer there and that made me big sad dgkrnekhbfgnjklh) Since the re verse has like morbillion viruses, the green flu existing would be plausible so its just another stonks moment for umbrella lol. But yeah luis would absolutely be devastated. He probably doesnt have the guts to pull the trigger, least he can do is to restrain leon for a while and tries to find whatever humanity he has left in his nonexistent eyes. Tho in my witch!leon hc I think luis may have a chance to keep leon around??? Since witches seem to have the most humanity among the infected (and thats not saying much) he could probs observe him a lil bit without getting eaten right away. It would just be a warm bodies scenario ngl (i just watched that movie recently so this is huge copium dksfghbshgndfh) Honestly Im glad l4d fandom still alive after all these years. That game will always be goated and it was one of my high-school obsessions. I used to do crossover stuff back then and Im back to doing it now. Time rly do be a flat circle

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writingpracticeonly · 1 year ago

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I've Got You - Clint Barton x Peter Parker

A Request for Clint X Peter Safe NSFW (bromance, nudity, rectal temp, spanking, hand job) Peter is sick, thanks to a villain. Clint's turn to watch him. He helps Peter get undressed and takes his temp in his bottom. Clint loves Peter's butt and playfully spanks him, which gives Peter an erection which means Clint has to get rid of it with a hand job. They're not together. More of bros helping bros.

The younger Avenger had tried too hard to prove himself again. Peter had ended up being slung into Manhattan Bay and needed picking up by Tony. Tony flew over and picked the kid up after clearing up the mess he inadvertently made against Rhino.

Peter had been shivering since that fight and Tony suggested he stay at the Avengers tower to help warm up in case anything happened to him. Even though Peter had a stronger physiology than most people he was still able to get hurt and sick. The older Avengers took their time to watch over Peter as he was kept wrapped in a heated blanket and drying off. Initially, it was Steve, who was all too keen to give Peter a talk about being a responsible hero and trying to work together as a team, to not take too many risks and become another Tony Stark. Peter wondered what Tony was like before the Avengers joined, was he really that bad?

After it was Thor, who boasted about their battle and he spoke about how he was able to come in after ‘Parker’ was kicked across the water like a pebble. Peter felt embarrassed enough as it was getting kicked out across the water with the Avengers having a full view. He wanted to be able to prove himself and wound up in this situation.

Peter thought he was through with everything as it was starting to get late until Clint walked into the room and waved at the kid, “How you doin', champ?” Clint asked, Peter visibly relaxed at the sight of the playful archer, the two had been getting closer as friends recently. Clint had recently volunteered to work with Peter more and help him train and guide him through the hero life, “I’m okay, just feeling like I let the team down,” Peter’s brow furrowed together as he stood up, pulling the blanket around him tighter, something he forgot about until now was that he was naked under the blanket. His suit was soaked through so Tony took it to get cleaned through properly, “You didn’t let us down, you’ve been doing this since late high school right? And that’s what? 4 years ago, you’re still learning and experiencing life, don’t be too hard on yourself,” Clint smiled at the hero, he’d not long turned twenty, so he was still young to most.

Clint watched the young man walk around, he’d always admired Peter’s strength to never give up, he would keep going despite the odds, and his positivity was something the team also needed. It was something a lot of the older heroes needed… a spark of positivity… Clint watched his friend shiver as he walked around, a small frown of concern for him visible on his features. “Let me take your temperature,” Clint spoke, Peter froze and looked at Clint, “A doctor did that when I got in,” Peter spoke quickly, “What? Afraid I’ll stick it up your cute ass?” Clint smirked, Peter looked away, Clint chuckled, “Well, actually I’ll have to as that’s the best way to check your temperature given the circumstances,” Clint admitted, Peter froze and looked at the ground. The idea of his friend performing the procedure caused a small stir in his stomach.

Peter and Clint were close friends, they helped each other out with a lot of things, but was this overstepping? Or did Peter actually like this idea… as he was still young and experiencing his sexuality, the idea of an older man caring for him piqued his curiosity.

“I’m okay with that,” Peter spoke, a small pitch to his voice, uncertainty, or excitement, the older hero couldn’t tell but smiled reassuringly, “Hey, I’ll make it quick,” Clint smirked and locked the door, “We’re bros, I’ll help you out what anything you need,” Clint added as Peter nodded. Clint watched Peter pull the blanket open and saw he was naked, he moved to the kit on the side and pulled out the thermometer and prepared it for a reading, looking at the notebook next to the medical pack he made a note that another reading was being taken.

Peter moved onto the bed that he had previously sat on, it was more comfortable than the small mattress he had back at his apartment. Peter moved to lay on his side as he did for the doctor earlier today. Clint prepared with some petroleum jelly on the thermometer and after putting on a glove he gently rubbed some on Peter’s ass all while admiring the view. Clint put the thermometer gently between Peter’s cheeks and into his ass, Peter seemed to relax at the feeling but then felt the adrenaline run through him as Clint moved the thermometer gently and out of his ass. Peter’s face burned as Clint lightly slapped his ass with a chuckle, “Wasn’t too bad, was it?” Clint smirked as he moved away to clean up the thermometer and wrote down the number, he was returning to normal temperature so Peter would be fine after a few more hours.

Clint looked back around and saw Peter sitting on the edge of the bed covering himself, he noticed his hands trying to hide his erection. Clint smirked at his friend, “Need a hand?” Clint smirked, Peter’s face burned brightly as Clint moved in front of him, “That looks difficult to hide,” Clint smiled at his friend, “I’ll be okay,” Peter nodded, “Hey, I know that was torture, so let me repay in kind?” Clint smirked as the hero sat on the bed.

Peter hesitated, he looked down at his crotch, the idea made his cock twitch, and his brain fogged over with questions. Clint was offering to give him a hand job. Peter slowly removed his hands, allowing his hardened member to finally stand. A single drop of precum sat proudly on the top of its head. Clint grabbed the jelly he used before and rubbed some between his hands, “I’ll make it quick” Clint smirked as he clasped Peter’s cock, using the same phrase he did earlier, a gasp left his throat as Clint’s thumb rolled over the top and collected the little bead. Clint’s hand slowly moved down to the base; eye contact was kept between them.

Clint moved his other hand to gently grasp Peter’s balls. The moans that left Peter’s throat were sweet and soft, his heart began to race. Clint could read Peter’s face like a book, figuring out that he liked the tip of his cock to be gently caressed while his balls were gently rolled over. The older hero had the experience, that was obvious. Peter’s eyes closed, his mind clouded in bliss and euphoria, he never imagined this was how today was going to wind up.

Clint felt Peter’s balls tense, his hand slowly picked up a pace and Peter’s breath and chest increased in speed. Clint leaned in over Peter’s shoulder and smirked, “You’ve done good today, we all learn from our mistakes. Now be an even better boy and cum,” Clint instructed, Peter whimpered at the command, it was unexpected, Clint was showing a new side to him. Peter gripped onto Clint’s jacket as his release was close, “I can tell you’re almost there,” Clint smirked, Peter could only nod as he groaned.

Peter’s head flew back as he moaned, the older hero held the base of his cock and then slowly pumped the remaining few drops out from Peter. Peter jolted at the sensitivity, Clint smirked at his friend, his semen had landed on his hand and over Peter’s legs and stomach.

“There you go, that should help you rest,” Clint smirked, he grabbed some towels from the side and wiped his hand. Once Clint had cleaned up he gently cleaned Peter up who had lay back on the bed, “Thanks…” Peter spoke, breathlessly and was unable to process any other thought. Clint chuckled at his friend, “What are friends for?” Clint asked, Peter looked down and propped himself up on his elbows, “Don’t go falling in the water again though, that was silly what you did today,” Clint scolded Peter who could only chuckle, “Well, I might just have to do it again now anyway,” Peter smirked, Clint rolled his eyes as he finished cleaning Peter.

“Rest, and when you’re better have a hot shower, you’ll be back to normal soon,” Clint explained, his friend nodded and grabbed the thermal blanket again, as he lay his head down Clint looked at him. “You know I’ll be there to help you with anything, you’re my bro,” Clint added, Peter smiled at the sentiment, “I appreciate that, and this,” Peter smiled, “Night,” Peter nodded, “Good night,” Clint dropped the towels in the wash basket of his room.

#Spiderman #Hawkeye #marvel #requests open #request #writing requests #spidermanxhawkeye #clint barton #peter parker #clint barton x peter parker

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jujujournal · 2 years ago

Text

The H's

It’s Christmas eve day. I signed up to work a few hours tonight. That will be the first part of my ‘socializing’ for the holidays. The second part will be tomorrow night - when I signed up for another short shift. New Years day has a full shift available - but it’s in a facility and I don’t know that I really want to do that. I’ve learnt that I don’t particularly like working in a facility. I prefer the autonomy and one on one of hospice and home health. This is a weird time of year for me. I long to be with family and friends but if invited I would likely say no. I don’t want the stress of carrying on conversations and dealing with everyones’ drama. The weather here is out of the teens - I know we will get another cold snap before it’s all said and done but I am grateful for the reprieve. So glad I bought my electric fireplace, I can only imagine how cold it would have gotten in here without it. I want more but I have so much more than many others.

The morning before the arctic temps blew in I sat here absolutely horrified knowing there are people living on the streets that would have nowhere safe to get in out of the literally life threatening temperatures. My friends and coworkers offered all the platitudes and comforts of the city offering warming stations and how the salvation army is open 24/7. That’s right, they’ve never been touched by homelessness - they don’t understand that that isn’t enough.

People with pets won’t be allowed in shelters. People not in areas of warming stations don’t have the option to hop in their car and drive there. I can pass out blankets and hot drinks and try to make myself feel as though I’ve done a small part, but it won’t change what I know - that there are men, women, and children out there without access to any of these assistances that are being offered. So there is the contradiction of me, I want to do more to help but I don’t trust people so I can’t/won’t open my home to them. I don’t have fancy things to steal, but I have my peace and I have my pets and those are the things most precious to me. I have adult children whom I’d give anything for but they don’t live here so are not part of that decision making equation. So what do I do? Donate to shelters? Yea, I know someone who stayed at a homeless shelter one night. He left his bag of belongings in the courtyard and the facility threw them away. They didn’t take the clothes and wash them for those who might need them, they didn’t hold them so that someone who had nothing could reclaim them, they threw them away - all while begging for donations. I can’t wrap my head around that. Drive around and pass out supplies - I do, at least as much as I can afford, which is really less than a drop in a bucket when you look at the grand scheme of things. Not to mention time constraints, if you get there ‘too late’ they can’t help. They have curfews - I get it, but that doesn’t help people who miss the cutoff. Check in is 7pm - 10pm, and you have to be out by 7am. Even if you make the cutoff and they have room for you there are still 12 hours a day you have to keep yourself safe. Homeless aren’t welcomed in most places so that means on the streets, but not too close to a home or business because then they are loitering.

I’m not saying that some people haven’t landed themselves in these situation but making poor life choices - but a lot of them haven’t. SO many people out there are just one paycheck away from being at risk for homelessness.They aren’t bad people, they aren’t drug addicts, they aren’t wasting money on electronics, gambling, etc. They’re working full time jobs struggling to make ends meet. Cast all the accusation you want and make all the excuses you need to for your lack of compassion: there are programs to help, they should have gone to college to get a higher paying job, etc. As far as I am concerned you are only giving yourself justification and an excuse to not care. I see people on street corners begging, and I sometimes roll down my window and offer what I have - be in a little cash, food, jackets, blankets, bottled water, whatever - but then I’ve seen those people throw away anything that isn’t cash and drive off in their cars and head for their homes. Now that isn’t on me, that’s on them. That’s their karma. I don’t understand though how you can have a roof over your head, food for your belly, and stand on a corner stealing from those who truly need help - making people second guess helping at all because they don’t know whether the person asking for help truly needs it or is just another scam artist. I disassociate, I turn off my emotions to a large degree, I am guilty of those things, but I can’t turn off my compassion. I cannot see someone with less and think how easy it would be to take from them so I would have more. I was reading through a page in my local area that helps homeless folks, specifically a post on social media. A comment caught my eye “Look at all that debris”. This person didn’t see the struggle, didn’t see the people camping under old carpets trying to stay safe and warm, they only saw the debris. Is it horrible that their is filth and trash, of course it is. But how is it not worse that there are people that this is their best option?!?!

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embe95 · 2 years ago

Text

Saturday

Synopsis: Mac's a good guy, okay? Well, I mean, he's the only one who cares about me... right? But then along comes Felix, who just changes everything.

Felix, again... He's just lovely to write for, idk man. This took waaaaay longer than I thought it would. And it is LONG. 6,800 words, jeepers.

Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship (reader has a toxic ex), cursing, talk of sex (not explicit) but yeah, here we are

Late again! Fuck… fuck Y/N, you can’t keep doing this!

I cover my face with a pillow, groan and stagger up quickly even though my body begs me to catch up on my sleep some more. Late… I’m late. Again. Minho is going to slice my head clean off.

Where- oh right, there…

”Y/N?” I hear his groggy voice from the messy bed. It’s covered with regret from corner to corner.

Fuck. Not again.

”Mac! You’re up!” I turn, grinning with panic, arms still flailing around to try and grab my clothes.

Mac leans up on his elbows, toned biceps flexing, hair a mess, and so it all comes back to me.

I’m at his house again. Why, why, why do I keep doing this?

I pull on my sweats, grateful that some part of me must have considered the fact that I have practice today.

This is not at all surprising. I came here after an anxiety attack and we had sex. Disappointing, yes, both as a decision and as an activity, but not surprising.

”You have practice again?” Mac’s voice sounds like a chain saw, but his tone is nonchalant. He’s gonna ask when he can see me next. I’m already bugged by the question.

”Mhmm… yeah.”

Where is the damn- oh yeah, there.

I pull my shirt on.

”When can we meet up?”

”Mac, listen, this was fun, but I don’t think-”

”Yeah, yeah, just stop. You say the same shit every time. Just face it, it’s not like you’re gonna find someone better. What we have is fine.”

”What we ha- You know what? Not now. I’m late. We’ll talk later.”

Mac’s reply ”see you tonight” rings in my ears as a disheartening taunt, a threat, a promise and, unfortunately, most likely a fact.

The city streets are filled with people who just can’t seem to understand that they are in my way and not moving quickly enough. The ride on the bus takes longer than it usually does. Seoul flies by, colours, sounds, smells all mixing together. What if I don't see Mac tonight? What if I do? Will he be angry if I'm alone? If I decide to be by myself will I end up going back anyway?

My body is tense and I check the time every few seconds, half waiting and half dreading the famous message I’m about to receive.

| What degree would you like me to set the air fryer to?

Actually, no. That one would be Minho when he’s not in his all-consuming choreographer mode, but when I’m just late for a coffee date etc. Nah, the text I’m about to get is from the team.

*Ping*

Called. It.

| Jinnie: What temp should Min set the air fryer to?

| Felix: I’ve hidden it, don’t worry

They’re hilarious.

| Y/N: eta 3 min

I’m usually late when I sleep over at Mac’s. It feels like a cycle, an unhealthy one at that. Are cycles ever positive? I digress.

We officially broke up over three months ago. Why did we do that again? Did we ever really? Bitch, please. I’m the one who called it off because I felt like there was a rhino sitting on my chest whenever we were together. But then… I don’t know. The rhino became a constant presence, and without another body close to mine it wiggles and jumps and dances. Sex is a distraction. But it’s never quite what I need. Maybe I'm the problem? Maybe I'm too much in my head? Maybe I'm bad at it? It’s more of a sport, really. At least dancing makes me sweaty and satisfied.

Speaking of.

After what seems like 3 hours to me, the packed bus finally glides to my stop and I squeeze myself out from between two suits smelling of expensive Sauvage. The perfume stays with me as I speed to the studio on the 10th floor.

Almost there. Already sweaty.

I toss my bag and jacket, bow as deep as I can without falling over and join the warm up.

The next half an hour is grueling.

”Hey you,” Felix sighs as he slumps down next to me. He’s panting nearly as hard as me.

Thank goodness it’s not just me being out of shape, Minho is really working us today.

I wish I was focusing on him, his freckles and that incredible blonde hair that’s sticking to his forehead and neck. Instead I’m stuck staring at the luminescent rectangle in my hand, at the text underneath a number that should’ve been deleted long ago.

| Can you grab some toilet paper on your way over?

”You alright?”

”Yeah, I’m fine,” I sigh and discard the phone back into my bag. Airplane mode on, obviously, no phones during practice.

Felix stays quiet, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie.

”What’s up with Hyung today?”

”Right?” I leap at the opportunity to distract myself from the message I just received, but its effect on my mood is evident.

But Felix is his gentle self and doesn’t push it. He knows it’s not the time or place. He knows I don’t much care for talking in general.

”Break’s over! C’mon!”

We’ve been a dance team for a while, me, Felix, Hyunjin, Jisung and Elle. Three months to be exact. Minho focuses on the choreos but sometimes the formations he comes up with require pairings, and so he hops back in to where he originally began; dancing with his friends. I met them all during Minho’s classes, Hyunjin first at contemporary, Elle and Felix in street styles.

When my dear friend opened his dance school a few years back I attended it as more of a ”supportive friend” sort of thing, but ended up loving it so much there was nothing to do but become a standard fixture in Minho’s classes.

Then one September evening after a particularly sweaty contemporary class Min asked if I’d have the guts to try out for a team he was putting together. I almost started crying because of how touched I was that he wanted me to join so desperately.

It felt like magic, the way we all just clicked. We have ambition, Minho’s choreographies and just a shit-load of fun together. I didn’t even completely comprehend how far Minho’s reputation had spread before I found out that Felix had flown all the way from Australia just to attend his workshop. And now, here he is, next to me, practicing the most difficult combo I’ve ever witnessed Minho do.

I have the best time with all of them, no matter what we do. But Felix… he’s so kind and bright and pure like a fresh summer breeze. While my humor is more on the dark side (thank you, Min), we get along much better than I dared hope. My only ”problem” is that he never seems to be in a bad mood, and I don’t trust people without a dark side. He’s competitive, absolutely, and gets a little frustrated when he doesn’t learn a choreography as fast as he’d like. But according to him, when I compared his outbursts in those situations to mine or Elle’s, he just shrugged and smiled, stating that he’s a slow learner and that’s okay.

What gets him mad? What shakes him up? What makes those dark eyes darker? Maybe I'll find out some day.

”Min, one more time, please?” Elle pleads, eyes big, chest heaving, t-shirt soaked.

We four hum in agreement.

Practice runs until three pm. as agreed and I realize the rest of my Saturday is free.

Well, I mean… Mac is waiting for the toilet paper.

Minho startles me as his strong hands land on my shoulders.

"YA!" I snap and flip around.

His forehead is coated with sweat, hair sticking to it like running ink. My face expresses the distain for the previous gesture, but it's hard to keep an insulted composure when he looks at me like this; the small, mischievous smile more than familiar.

"Just coming to compliment you, but fine."

"Go on then."

"Why were you late?"

"Ha!"

My exclamation holds confidence, but as soon as Minho's eyebrows reach for the ceiling and his eyes turn worried, the façade shakes. He knows about Mac. He knows as much as I let him, but being a close friend has probably granted him the burden of seeing through my words. It's difficult to hide the calls and constant texts. And the running mascara.

"I'm here you know, just let me know if you need anything." This time his strong hand is gentle as it grips my shoulder. I nod and reach for my bag.

"Thank you, I know. It's all good."

"Why don't we have a proper movie night? Maybe some drinks?" Minho leans down to search for my gaze. Instead of waiting for my answer, he hurries towards Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Elle, all four of them already heading out. "You guys free tonight?"

I feel giddy from the idea of spending time with my friends.... beats having to be a delivery girl by a thousand miles. Well, that's not completely fair, I stay at Mac's house so it's only fair that I buy stuff too. But seeing my team smile and nod eagerly and immediately start making plans on what, where and when is like serotonin of a different kind. It's calmer than the energy that comes from dancing, it's more comfortable than explosive, if that makes sense.

So a plan is made: we'll all meet at Minho's house in two hours. I'll get the wine, Hyunjin is in charge of chips, Felix is on dip duty, Jisung will bring the sweets and Elle takes care of the donuts. Minho will order the pizzas.

"Hey Y/N, I uh..." Felix opens the building door for me as we all make our way out. He looks a little nervous, but I can't see why that would be the case. Did I do something to upset him today? Was I rude? Did he want to tell me off for being late again?

"I don't really need to head home, mind if I just come to your house with you and we can head to hyung's together?"

Oh. That's all? I sigh in relief and smile, both at his question and my own thought process. He's never been to my house but I don't see why that's a problem.

"Sure, yeah, let's go catch the bus."

The bus is as full as when I arrived four hours ago. Felix and I are squeezed together, chest to back at first, but I get frustrated with not being able to reply when he talks next to my ear, so I flip around after the first two stops. His neck is in my eyeline, I find his eyes by tilting my head up. I'm so happy he's not Mac.

"You don't wanna shower or anything?"

"Do I smell?" he smirks.

"No! No, that's not what I- I mean just that-"

"Calm down," Felix chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine. His tongue quickly swipes across his lips. "You have a point, I guess I didn't really think about it."

"You can shower at mine," I shrug and feel my phone buzz deep in the pocket of my hoodie. It seems irrelevant, all I'm focused on is watching Felix's cheeks and ears change color. I don't think there's any need to be shy about such things, a shower is such a normal need and I so happen to have one at my place, as well as a clean towel and some shampoo. I always have this need to make people feel at home at my apartment, even if they haven't been there before. My goal is that it's easy for them to be with me and around me if that's a space I want to give them. And Felix has more than earned his space these past months.

Why does every suit wear Sauvage nowadays?

We laugh at nothing, damn near skipping our way to the elevator.

As the doors open to reveal the end of my blissful Saturday standing in the hallway, I find myself wishing that Felix had come home with me any other night. The rhino suddenly leaps onto my torso again, begins a little jig and my feet go a little numb. Tonight sounded too good to be true anyway.

"Where have you been?"

The text from earlier... I could've prevented this. Ignore the question, he knows where I've been.

"Felix, this is Mac, Mac, this is Felix."

Mac doesn't take Felix's outstretched hand, only stares at him up and down. I want to smack his judgmental jawline.

"Oh... uh. Hey, man... what's up?" Felix uses the hand meant for a polite handshake to rub the back of his neck.

"I'm her boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," I specify abruptly, sending a pleading look at Felix to... well, I don't know what.

"What are you?" the owner of the rhino asks, voice as judgmental as his expression.

This is normal. Mac never got along with any of my friends. That's how boyfriends are. Or some boyfriends. We're meant to spend time together by ourselves and then we both keep our own friends as separate entities. He didn't want me to get jealous of his pretty friends. And of course he shouldn't have to see me being happy with other guys.

I fumble with my key and feel Mac's eyes burning my skin very uncomfortably. Maybe if I take too long, Mac will leave?

"Open up, I've been here for like... ten minutes."

"You knew I had practice."

"How was I supposed to remember what time it ends?"

He hasn't remembered before, why would he now? But we didn't make plans this time, but... I did, with my teammates.

"What's he doing here?"

Mac pushes past me into the apartment, practically shoving me against the door. Felix's arm flies behind my back to stop me from falling.

My place is small, about 25 square feet which is really all I need. I try to keep it tidy, but every corner here screams "hectic lifestyle". Felix takes off his Converse immediately which makes me smile. I probably should be embarrassed by him seeing the laundry and dishes, but who doesn't have those in their apartment? Having two guys in here though... that's a little out of the ordinary.

"Felix and I just came to swing by, we're heading to Minho's for a movie night-"

"What? I thought we were hanging out?"

"I never said that! Minho asked and we all thought it was a great idea-"

”I drove all this way to get you!”

He did. He drove the whole five blocks for me.

”I know, okay,” I sigh and cross my arms. It hurts to turn to look at Felix, whose expression is completely unfamiliar to me. But his eyes aren't on me, they're on the man currently slumping onto my couch, I hear the heels of his shoes hit the small table in front of it. I wish he wouldn't do that.

I step between them. The rhino standing on me makes it hard to move. ”I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll just text Minho. I’m so sorry for this Lix… dragging you here…”

Those beautiful brown eyes soften as he turns to me, it almost looks like he's reaching for me.

”You didn’t-”

”Lix? Are you a cat?” Mac laughs at his own quip.

He’s not funny, but at least he tries? I guess. But it’s not funny when it’s aimed at my friend.

”Shut up,” I reply. ”There’s no room for that with so many burgers in your name.”

Felix chuckles low and glances at me, hands in his pockets. I’m happy I make him laugh, it feels like an achieved goal. His smile falls quickly when his gaze does the same; he sees me throwing my bag over my shoulder and my feet inching back towards my discarded shoes next to the door.

”You really shouldn’t try to be funny,” the burger scoffs from the couch, grabbing a fistful of sourcream chips from the bowl on the table. I made him angry with my joke, I knew I shouldn't have said it. ”Or eat these, I thought we talked about this,” he mumbles as they turn to mush in his mouth.

He’s right, we have talked about it. Mac has said many times that he’s noticed how they make my face bloat. He’s right, I’m trying to be a good dancer, after all, I need to look the part.

I hum in response and lean down to tie my laces.

”You ready or what? What’s taking so long?”

”Almost!” I reply fast.

I return to an upright position so quick my head spins, but I have to hurry because Mac is getting impatient. I'm already mentally preparing to head for the door, when a sudden chill runs through me.

”Felix?” I stare at his expression, from the side his eyes look black. I hold out my hand, my trembling fingers reach for his arm but before they make their landing, he steps towards Mac.

”Leave.”

I’ve never heard a voice so low, it’s primitive and raw. Mac freezes in his spot, chips stilling in his mouth.

”Now.”

”Excuse me?”

”Lix, I-”

”No, I’m sorry. Excuse me. Let me be more clear.”

Felix approaches Mac slowly.

”Get off your ass, walk to the door, open it, step out of it and then close it. I don't care what the fuck you get up to after that, but leave my sight right now, or I won't be responsible for my actions.”

Mac looks at Felix, then me. His expression emits complete disbelief. I don't move for an instant, but when I see Felix's head begin to tilt to the left, his back so tense he's shaking, I'm flooded with the strength of the small army he and I form together. I stare back at my ex, eyes ablaze, and cross my arms.

Mac scoffs and stomps toward the exit.

"You're just a mess of red flags, Y/N, psycho friends and all this shit, good luck finding someone to fuck!"

The silence that follows the slammed door is deafening. My hands fall to my sides slowly, the rhino walks away. I can't stop staring at the bowl of chips next to the couch. Why shouldn't I eat those if I like them? Why should I go just because he tells me to? I can find people to fuck me, to love me... I-I think I can. Right now I think I can.

”Thank you.”

”I’m so sorry,” Felix says speedily and his voice overlaps with mine. He pulls me in for a one-sided hug. I can’t respond out of the confusion in my brain.

”Sorry? For what?”

"I know you don't need saving, I just lost it, I'm so sorry if I hurt you by treating you as someone helpless, you're not, at all!"

Only Felix could turn doing something so kind and hot and decent into something to apologize for. I reach for the sides of his head which is now buried in my shoulder. He's still shaking.

"Lix, look at me."

He does.

"You did nothing wrong, thank you. I mean it. He needed to hear that. As did I."

His lower lip trembles.

"Oh come here, silly," I pull him back to the hug he began. Arms flung around my torso tightly, we remain like that and just breathe together until I feel his vibrating muscles calm.

So, that's what he's like when he's mad. That's one of his buttons; he's protective of his friends. Interesting, sort of obvious and very fitting.

Felix has to crouch, almost fold over to have his head reach the crook of my neck. This is the first time he's ever felt tall and small simultaneously, it's endearing. I'm suddenly very conscious about the fact that I haven't showered yet when I feel his nose brush the nape of my neck. My breathing pauses from the feeling. I hope I don't smell. Why did that feel so... intimate?

His arms tighten and he inhales deeply. Shivers travel throughout my existence and I have to force out an exhale.

"Are you okay?" Felix straightens up and focuses all his attention towards my eyes. It's magnetic, I just stare back. His eyes are brown again. I've never noticed that freckle next to his eyebrow.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good..." I mumble and then realize what I said.

The rhino is actually gone. I can breathe. I test the thought in practice and start smiling, the full kind.

"I'm good. I'm good! That felt so, so good! Felix, oh my god. Thank you for standing up to Mac, oh my god, I feel okay, I really do!"

I prance and hop around my apartment, blabbering all the while. My friend laughs aloud with a bright expression, his hip to one side, weight on one leg and hands in his pockets.

"I'm happy to hear it. I'm sorry I got so angry though," he goes serious.

"No, no, I loved it!"

"Huh?"

I stop mid jump and feel like what I just blurted out is floating in front of me like a subtitle. Without knowing my thought process I can see how this could be confusing.

"He's gone," I sigh and turn to look at Felix. "He's gone, and it's good. I love that you did what would've taken me another six months of my life to finally do."

The whole team knows we started dancing together around the time me and Mac "broke up". I watch realization spread onto Lix's handsome features and wonder what it is he realized. That I was too weak to be alone? That I basically lied about the break up and that I've been seeing Mac this whole time? That I'm an idiot? That I'm pathetic?

"Has he been like that to you the whole time?" His eyes are dark again.

That's a tricky question in a sense. I really want to say he wasn't like that at first. That he changed. But maybe he was always like that and I was just too into him to see it. We disappeared from my friends' sight so quickly that no one in my social group really ever got to know him before the bigger fights began. Maybe they would've seen that he was a walking red flag.

"I'm not sure, actually. I think... it may have changed around the time he found out about my anxiety," my voice is small. I find refuge on the bed because the couch seems to still have his ass print on it. "I-I... Well, what really helps me when I get anxious, like have an attack or something, is physical contact. Mac made me feel like... I guess he made me feel like he was the only one who wants to help me. So even though I always felt heavy with him, and I did, truly, I feel so small and- well, just wrong when I'm with him it just... It felt like a better option than the wrong way I feel when I'm by myself. Whenever being alone got too much and I needed someone to hold me, hug me, touch me... love me, I'd go back to him. I guess I think it's better than being alone. And sometimes I just freeze and stare at everything this effects in my life; my family, friends, the team... I love dancing with you guys so much, but if I keep being late and just fucking everything up, I don't know what'll happen... Great, here I go. I'm sorry."

Tears have begun to run down my cheeks all the way to my hoodie. I didn't look at Felix once during my monologue, it felt so personal and self-reflective that I should've been on a leather futon in a therapist's office. All of a sudden he lands in front of me, knees colliding with the floor.

"Don't apologize, please."

Felix's hands envelope mine and he squeezes them gently. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through all this. If I'd known... He's an asshole, you don't need him. You have so many people who'd be happy to help you with whatever you need. People who adore you."

His hands protecting mine feels comforting, but there's something very exciting about his touch. I'm happy I'm crying, because it hides the real reason I think I'm shivering right now. But it's Felix... I mean it's Lee Felix, he's my friend. My teammate. I mean... have I thought about what he's hiding underneath his clothes, what he'd look like out of them and under me? Sure, yeah, of course. Obviously. But never in a serious manner. I haven't even let myself think about having a new crush. There's only been Mac. The one whose supposed to be the only one to love and take care of me... I imagine what sex would be like with everyone I dance with, I guess. How can someone who's been having sex regularly be so horny? Maybe it speaks to the satisfaction level of the activity. Or the one offering the services. I digress. What is it about Felix that makes our contact so monumental all of a sudden?

And now I know he can get mad, his eyes do get darker. And it happened as he protected me. I loved it. It's like I've unlocked a new level.

My tears cease, the last two fall when I smile.

"Thanks, Lix, that's sweet."

"I mean it, I... We really care for you. And if you ever need company or anything, you know, just call me- or any of us!"

His eyes haven't left our joint hands once.

This would be the perfect moment to kiss him.

As if reading my mind, his eyes find mine. They're big and beautiful, glowing. He's glowing.

This is the wrong time to kiss him, or anyone. It's not fair, I'm just fragile and excited and frazzled, and anything that could happen now could just as easily be me trying to control these roaring emotions with something concrete. That something should be taking a shower, not kissing my friend.

But he's so beautiful and staring at me and just right there, looking so ready for the taking.

SHOWER, WOMAN. DO IT NOW.

My hands fly to Felix's cheeks and his eyes light up even brighter. I smack a dry kiss onto his forehead and get up clumsily.

"Thank you, you're amazing. Really, I'm so happy we're friends," I chirp, heading to the closet to grab fresh towels for us both. I toss the yellow one to him just as he's getting up, eyes now on the ground, the corners of his lips seem to curve down. He must not like forehead kisses. "Let's talk more okay, I really do want to go through this properly, but I really need a shower first. Just make yourself at home."

An accepting hum follows me to the bathroom.

I'm quick when I shower, but I'm happy that Felix took my comment to heart and relaxed enough to sit on my bed in the five minutes I spent away from the shared space. He smiles quickly and heads straight for the shower after me. The door slams shut. It feels aggressive.

Did he look sad? Mad? Annoyed? I'm not the best at going through this, deep conversations I mean. How do I express how grateful I am for what he did? I've never been in this situation, having someone kick another someone out of my apartment, having someone stand up for me. Granted, it was a coincidence Felix was here and saw Mac in action, I'm lucky to have friends who would've kicked his ass months ago if I'd given them the go-ahead. But maybe Felix wanted me to kiss him? But why would he? Would that have been a good thank you? Did he feel like I wasn't being fair? That I'd kiss someone like Mac but not him? Not Felix... surely he wouldn't- I pray he doesn't think that. He's not the guy who thinks I should "repay" him. He's not.

While my mind rolls me down this very steep hill I somehow find my way into comfortable yet clean clothes. We should really get going.

"Hey, mind if I borrow a hoodie? I didn't bring a change of clothes and would be nice to throw on something fresh."

I can't breathe, he's gorgeous, the towel flung over his other shoulder while his sweats hang low on his defined hips.

SPEAK.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, yeah, of course, that's fine."

I toss him a hoodie just like I did the towel fifteen minutes prior, he catches it just as easily. Only this time I can see the muscles that work while that movement happens.

"We should really get going."

We should, and we do. Felix is a tacit conversational partner the entire way to Minho's, mostly because I'm so nervous I'm blabbing his ears off. The quiet, very clean creature next to me doesn't seem to mind the listening role though, so I keep going until we get to Minho's apartment.

"What took you so long?" a fresh-out-of-the-shower Minho groans loudly.

"We're early!" I reply and shove a wine bottle into each of his free hands. Felix chuckles. "Jinnie, Ji and Elle aren't even here yet!"

"I'm hungry now, and I assumed you'd be earlier to make up for being late again today!"

We make our way to the kitchen.

"YA! You know I'm sorry!"

"Your apologies mean nothing to me."

"Hyung," Felix shakes his head solemnly.

Everything goes quiet. Minho's look jumps from me to Felix, obviously annoyed he doesn't understand, not knowing what he's supposed to not talk about. It's really not fair, and I don't want Felix thinking he's not allowed to talk about what happened, how he helped me.

Fine, I'll just come clean.

"I've been late because I've been sleeping over at Mac's. A-And sleeping with Mac."

Minho's eyes widen.

"And when I do that I... I loose sense of everything else. I'm sorry, Min."

"But we're gonna help her now," Felix's soft smile makes me tear up again. "So she'll realize she doesn't need him."

I believe Felix.

"Felix kicked him out of my apartment today."

Minho's whole being brighten's up. "Really?"

"Yeah, and I'll do my best to keep him out."

"And we'll help," Min replies and reaches out his hand. "Phone."

After a moment of misplaced incredulous staring, as if I didn't know the next step was necessary, I hand it over. With a few calculated, overjoyed swipes and clicks, Minho does his part to ensure that Mac's gone. I have the best friends. The thought floats in my head like a proud flag I proudly fly, but then the door bell rings. And ten minutes later it does the same thing. And I only get more proud from there.

The rest of the night is amazing. I haven't felt this light in millenniums. The five of us indulge in wine, chips, pizza, donuts and movies. It's exactly what life should feel like. Sometimes I catch Felix staring at me. His response to our gazes connecting is either a swift redirection of his head or a goofy face. I'm sure I made him uncomfortable somehow. Maybe he thinks that I know what that thing was and wants me to not feel bad about it. Because he's kind and selfless that way. But the thing is that I don't know what the damn thing is. The drink swirling in my wine glass isn't wine, it changed into a demonic version of a Gin & Tonic two full glasses ago. It's Sprite and Gin, the two ingredients Minho has in his apartment, if you don't count milk. Which I do not. The blasphemy still goes down fairly easily, and I'm finding it harder and harder to stop staring at my beautiful, blonde savior. I need to know what made him make those faces as well as how he feels about everything that went down - and didn't go down - at my apartment.

I'm pretty sure my brain is demanding things I shouldn't really demand of him. He doesn't owe me anything, it's the other way around really. But I don't want to repay him physically. I mean I do... but only as a disguise to hide the fact I really do want to touch him and feel him. Okay, I'm going over the rails. I set down my glass, slowing down the drinking to make my thoughts calmer, but... when did I empty this? Never mind.

"Y/N-ya, it's almost one, you need to go or you're going to miss the last bus," Minho's voice rings from the kitchen. One? How can it already be one in the morning? "Wanna sleep over?" he continues after a slight pause, mouth obviously full of something. I've taken shelter in his lovely home countless times, but somehow I feel like going home. Today has been such a hurricane.

"Nah, thanks," I get up and skip to the kitchen, pulling my best friend in for a hug. "But brunch tomorrow?"

Minho nods against my shoulder. He hugs me tighter than usual. He utters the next sentences without lifting his head.

"I'm fucking glad that he's gone. I wish I'd known you were still... Anyway, call me, Felix, anyone else when you get low okay?"

My turn to move my head up and down. I hear the quietest, most fragile "I love you" before he straightens up and ruffles my hair sloppily. "Get going, or you'll have to run!"

I give Hyunjin, Jisung and Elle their goodbye squeezes, but as I'm rashly moving closer to Felix's torso on the couch, he captures my hands in his and fixes his eyes on mine, this time obviously wanting me to notice. They're slightly glossy, a little red, as is his nose. An intense feeling burns through me as his skin glues to mine, identical to this afternoon.

"I was thinking of heading out too, can I make sure you get home okay?"

I swallow and nod.

We stand about twenty feet from the bus stop as we watch the vehicle drive by, almost empty. I let out a laugh. Last night bus, cab costs an arm and a leg, walking takes an hour and it's freezing. So...

"Well, back to Minho's I guess," I rub my hands together and glance at Felix, ready to turn back to the mini party only a few minutes back the way we came. "I can wait for your bus with you if you want, where does it-"

"I can walk, I... I live pretty close."

"But..." I mumble and stare at the imaginary Google Maps opening in my brain. "You could've just gone home to shower today then, you didn't have to come to my house. I thought you lived so far that it wouldn't have made any sense for you to..." my voice disappears when the shyest and most embarrassed smile I've ever witnessed starts to adorn his features.

"Yeah... I live like, fifteen minutes from here. I just... I don't know, I just wanted to hang out. With you."

"Why?"

Felix laughs, loud, incredulous, glancing up at the dark heavens. "Why? 'Cause you're amazing, that's why. I've been... shit, okay... I've been wanting to hang out alone with you for weeks. I've had a crush on you since- well I guess since the first time I saw you in class months ago. It was just physical at first, I think, but then we got into the same team and you just... every day you just turn out to be cooler and cooler and I've just been gathering the guts to fucking ask you out... I was going to ask today, but then we made these plans, so I just used that to try to steal a few moments alone with you. But then..."

I gulp.

"We met that asshole who made me lose my shit, and I'm still just so sorry I got angry, but I just needed to get him out, I mean, how could he talk to you like that? Treat you like that? And then when you cried and I held your hands for the first time, all I wanted to do was kiss you, and I thought you wanted the same thing, and I'm so sorry for that."

We've made our way to lean against the apartment block's stone wall side by side, eyes on the ground. But the flood of questions that take over my brain at this apology physically fling my gaze to him.

"I'm sorry I was thinking of something like that when you were so vulnerable. You obviously didn't want that, you made it really clear with how fast you left the room and how nervous you've been since... I made you uncomfortable, and I'm so, so sorry. It was never my intention. And... well, the more I think about it, the sillier the thought of you wanting to go out with me feels-"

"Why? Because you're kind? Handsome? Funny? Talented? Intelligent?" I blurt and turn to stand in front of him. "Felix..." I whisper and take his hands into mine, suddenly shy again, since I can't seem to look up. "You didn't make me uncomfortable. Not at all. The reason I did this," I repeat the forehead kiss, only slower. His body goes fully stiff. "And ran into the shower was so I wouldn't kiss you right then. It didn't feel fair."

"What do you mean?" his voice is low and hoarse, chin tilting up so his eyes reach mine. How can someone look this ethereal?

"Because... I didn't want you to think that I was only doing it because I was trying to get over Mac. I haven't let myself think about anyone else since we started going out and I... Now, I feel desperate to just forget about him and find something better. I want to believe I deserve it, it's a lot of work but because of you, what you did today, I think I can. I just... desperately need to get him out of my system. I want something more."

"You deserve it. You deserve so much," he whispers and I watch his Adam's apple bounce.

How does alcohol give me so much confidence? Four drinks ago I would've turned as red as a tomato and moved away, but now my eyes stay on the man in front of me as he slowly straightens up and is suddenly towering over my short form. But when Felix towers, it's safe and strong, not intimidating in the slightest.

"I'd like to help you think about someone else."

"I want to kiss you," I bring our hands up, placing them between our chests. "But only because I want to kiss you, Felix, not just anyone. You."

"B-But I don't want you to feel like-"

"Shh... I don't. I want you. I just don't want to hurt you, because I don't know what my heart can take at the moment, I can't promise that I'll be a good person to date right now, I-"

"What if..." Felix gently lifts my chin higher with his thumb as his voice trails off softly. "We just... kiss good night, and then I'll take you on a date tomorrow... Let's see how it goes and... take it from there. Sound good?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah?" he grins before leaning down to press his lips against mine. Right before they touch, he hesitates. He's kind. Too kind. His breath beckons me, calls for me to close the gap.

They're so soft. I need to grip hold of his hoodie just to stay upright as we melt together. Felix's hands pull me closer by my waist, I feel him crumpling up my hoodie too. He tastes like sprite, it's heavenly. The good night kiss turns into a much longer goodbye, as we slowly explore how our lips and tongues fit together. I could stay here forever. I can't remember anyone I've ever gone on a date with, dated, let alone kissed before this. It's heavenly. It's all just... heavenly.

Today, I found two things that make Felix's eyes darken. That's really exciting. They're almost black when they open as we pull away from each other, but return to the gentle chocolate shade when he smiles.

"Good night," I whisper and give him one more peck, which almost turns into a another session.

I wave shyly as I watch him disappear behind the corner. I don't know how I'll get to sleep. Or how I'm going to explain this grin that just won't. Go. Down.

The next day I have brunch with Minho, and Felix and I head to the movies in the evening. That date turns into another, and another... and another. By the time Christmas comes around, we've been together almost every day. I've found a lot of things that make Felix's eyes darken.

But since we've been together, I haven't been late to practice once. Okay, once, but that time we were late together.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #lee felix imagines #lee felix fanfic #lee felix #skz felix #felix x reader #felix fanfic

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mysticalrambling · 3 years ago

Text

Sick Baby (C.E)

My Main Masterlist is here.

Chris Evans Masterlist is here.

Summary: It is your first day back to work but you are worried to leave your baby girl behind. Chris is in charge of her while you’re gone and Emma spikes a fever. Chris takes care of her and is really sad to see his daughter sick.

Warnings: A little bit of angst but otherwise it is all fluff.

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The past three months of your life have been constantly revolving around your daughter. She was the light of your life and you just couldn’t imagine your life without her. No one could compare to her and the twenty eight labour seemed like nothing when the reward was this fruitful. Of course, Chris loved her as much as you do but maternal love was different. You and Emma had a special bond and she was attached to your hip since she came into this world.

You haven’t left the house except for getting groceries with your little family. Chris and you had decided beforehand that you didn’t want to reveal your daughter’s face to the whole word yet. A normal life was what your daughter deserved and you both would make sure that she would get it.

“Maybe I can ask my boss-”

Interrupting you, Chris spoke up in his husky, soothing voice. “Darlin’, she’s my daughter as well. Can take care of her alone.”

“But-”

“Not gonna do this again with you. Now, go to work before we kick you out.”

Your maternity leave ended yesterday, meaning you had to leave your baby and go to work. You were excited to meet your co workers and have a conversation with a person who didn’t respond in cute babbles. But you couldn’t just leave Emma. It felt like you were putting her second to work even though your husband assured you that wasn’t the case.

“Just call me if something goes wrong. ‘kay?” Taking your little angel in your arms, you smooched her rosy cheeks. “Mommy is going to be right back, darling.”

“Bye, darling!” The look that he gave you told you to get out of the house.

“She had a li’l cough this morning so monitor her temperature. And-”

“Goodbye.” A forceful kiss on your lips made you stop speaking and you left with a final wave to both your loves.

Closing the main door, Chris cradled the baby to his chest and walked slowly towards the kitchen. You had stored your milk in the fridge and it was sufficient enough to last the whole day. It had been two hours since Emma’s last bottle so Chris heated up the milk while making himself some breakfast. They ended up on the couch with both of them filling their stomachs to the brim. If you knew that Chris ate anywhere other than the dining table, you would strangle him with your bare hands. He really was a messy eater.

“Dodger, stop licking your sister’s feet.” Chris laughed as he told his first baby off. The pet was in love with your daughter from the first moment he met her. Sometimes Chris complained that Emma replaced him in Dodger’s life. It was all jokes in the end because he truly adored the bond between two of his babies.

He was about to put Emma to sleep but she lets out a piercing cry with a cough following it immediately. Pulling her up from her bassinet, he touched her forehead and found out that she was burning.

“Let’s check your temperature, angel. No need to panic. No need to panic.”

Picking up the thermometer, he placed it under her armpits. Emma has never gotten sick so this was uncharted territory. He didn’t want to call (Y/N) because he wanted her first day back to go as smoothly as possible. Also, he wanted to prove you that he could very well take care of your daughter.

“Woah. Your temp is 101 darling.” Chris placed the instrument back in the basket and beelined his way towards the master bedroom. The pediatrician’s phone number was saved in his phone.

The doctor’s voice drifted from the phone, “Hi, this is Dr Sexton. What can I help you with?”

“Hi. This is Chris Evans.”

“How can I help you today, Mr Evans?”

“Actually, it’s Emma. Emma has a 101 fever and cough. She is also crying a lot right now.”

“Give her a sponge bath and some ibuprofen. Did she drink some milk?”

“Yeah. Just fed her a bottle fifteen minutes ago.”

“That’s good. If the temperature doesn’t go down, bring her in to the clinic.” You thanked the doctor and ended the call.

Emma kept crying even though your husband gave him a dummy. Those little cries broke his heart because he didn’t want to see his little baby girl in any pain or discomfort. Ever. Dodger was following both of them and barked whenever Emma’s cries reached his ears.

Stacking up his daughter’s bath products near her small basin, Chris held her in one hand. Her little face was red from crying and small tears were running down her face. She was really exerting herself out and Chris felt like crying. He would have taken all of her pain away if it was in his hands. It was getting too much to handle alone and he was considering calling you. However, that went away when Emma stopped crying as soon as she got into the tub.

“You’re a li’l water baby, aren’t yeh?” Humming a nursery song, the man gave his daughter a soothing, sponge bath. “Are you feelin’ better?”

The little baby’s cheeks were still rosy but she had opened her eyes and was intently looking at her father.

“You look just like your mommy, sweet pea. Except for those eyes. That’s all me.” He kept talking to her until the water turned slightly cold. Taking her to her nursery, he changed her into a unicorn onesie. Courtesy of her uncle Seb. He gave her some of the medicine and rocked her back to sleep.

When he looked at the clock, a sigh escaped his lips. Only two hours had passed since you left but it felt like a lot more time. He was tired. Coming downstairs with the baby monitor, he laid back on the couch with Dodger and decided on a short nap.

“Woof!”

Dodger’s barking woke him up with a start and he then noticed the little whimpers coming from the monitor. Running up the stairs, he entered the nursery and picked her up.

“It’s okay, little girl. Daddy’s got you.” Shushing her, Chris took her to the living room.

He warmed another milk bottle and fed her. Checking her temperature again, he heaved a sigh when he saw that her fever had went down. It was 99F. After burping her, the duo cuddled on the couch. Emma was in one of her clingy moods and Chris was more than happy to snuggle with her.

“Honey, I’m home.” Your voice echoed throughout the house. But when you didn’t get any response, you went into the living room. Seeing the sight in front of you made your heart melt. They both looked so cute, you couldn’t believe you were so lucky to have them as your family.

“Wha- What?”

“Just taking her upstairs.”

“No, let her stay. What time is it?”

Looking at your watch, you responded, “4:05. I’m gonna make some lunch.”

“Sit down and tell me about your day first, babe.”

Taking the baby in your arms, you realised that she was a little warm but Chris assured you that it was nothing. You both talked about your day with each other while you placed your head on his shoulder. You were glad to get back to work but you missed them a lot. Your family was your life and they were just perfect.

“Love you both so much.”

“We love you too, mommy.”

Hope you guys liked it!!

._._._._.

A/N: Here it is guys! My new fan fiction! I put in a lot of effort in this so I hope you like it. I’m back from my break and I’ll soon be posting my 400 follower celebration post. Notify me if you want to be added to my tag list and send in asks.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @agnesk, @caanyoonmoon, @nostxlgia18

Like, comment and reblog.

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moemammon · 4 years ago

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hey !! I've recently discovered your writing and fallen in love !! everything you do is so amazing !!! I love it all!! could you write about how the boys would react to MC getting a little cold/stomach bug and needing to be taken care of ?? if this hits too close to home I'm sorry !! you def don't have to write it but I've always been a sucker for sicfic fluff !!

MC is Sick?! (Feat. The Demon Bros!)

(Tw for illness)

Lucifer

It was universally known that humans were fragile, and prone to illness. Some even died from simple colds. That being said, your little cold was still enough to bother the oldest brother. So much so that his work has been... of a lower quality than usual.

This dude is all disheveled and haggard because he's so worried over you, but that doesn't mean he's skimping on your care.

It's a surprise to everyone that he keeps you in his room, where he can monitor you and make sure you have everything you need. Might even cheat a little with magic from time to time, as long as it speeds up your recovery.

He's also making sure you're comfortable and at ease, often putting on a soothing record to lull you to sleep. In reality, he might also be using it to de-stress, too-

"To think you ended up like this while in my care... I should have paid closer attention to you. But now, you're my entire focus. Leave your recovery to me."

Mammon

You've been sneezing, coughing, and vomiting all over the place! This is some kinda human illness, right?? aRE YOU OKAY-

Proceeds to go OVERBOARD with the care. You're wrapped in twenty blankets, you've got an ice pack on your head and a thermometer in your mouth (the kind used in cooking because they don't own a normal thermometer), and he's gathered every medicine he could get his hands on

But once he calms down, he's actually pretty good at caring for you. Mammon isn't COMPLETELY useless when it comes to caregiving, so that's a plus. He's just especially worried because it's you.

Refuses to leave your side, and won't let you leave your room. If you need anything, he's just going to get it for you! He's also barring his brothers form entering, claiming that he's trying to keep them from getting sick.

"Who told ya to go out and get sick, huh?! Makin' me all worried and stuff... Guess I've got no choice but to take care of ya! I'm not leavin' your side, ya hear??"

Levi

Levi's literally been dreaming of a scenario where he’d be able to nurse you back to health. Uh, not that he wanted you to get sick, though!

He's always wanted to do the 'pressing your foreheads together to check your temp' thing.... And 100% own a nurse cosplay that he's tempted to wear

But it's a little hard for him to focus on his fantasies when you look so pitiful. He's got to make sure you're back to full health ASAP! There's a marathon you two need to binge, and he doesn't want you throwing up every five seconds!

He'll take you to his room, since he'll be able to take care of you 24/7. And tbh?? He actually does a decent job?? He's a little annoying about it because he keeps checking on you every three seconds and talking to you when you're trying to sleep, but he means well.

"If only the 'Kira Kira Curing Beam' was a real thing.... For now, I'll just do my best with what I've got! Ganbare, MC!! Faito! Faitoooo!!!!"

Satan

The first one to notice that you're getting sick, so he's on it 👌

Obviously he's read enough to know the basics of taking care of a sick human, and he can study anything else he doesn't know, so you're in good hands.

Also EXTREMELY worried. It's written all over his face, despite his attempts to keep it cool. He's read how humans can succumb to things like this....Actually, he just finished a novel where that was essentially the main plot-!

So gentle with you throughout the entire process. He makes sure to keep you warm, brings you all the essentials, makes sure you're hydrated, and keeps tabs on your medicine. He's got a schedule for your care and everything!

"Honestly, you should have told me sooner that you weren't feeling well. It's fine to come to me for things like that, you know? I'll always be happy to take care of you."

Asmo

Snot, phlegm, AND vomit??? Yeah,,,, that's a hard pass,,,,

It's taking every ounce of his mental strength not to abandon you in your time of need, but thankfully his love for you is greater than the disgust for now

But his dramatic ass is gonna come into your room in full hazmat when he takes care of you, no exceptions. Even if you ask him to bring you a glass of water, he's acting like you have the plague.

But he's also pretty good at taking care of you? Even demons get sick, and Asmo has a tendency to get pretty intimate with wide varieties of demons, so he's had his fair share of sick days.

"How am I supposed to hug and kiss you if you're so sick?? It's killing me, MC! Though, they say you can sweat an illness out of your body if you try hard enough. I think I know plenty of ways to work up a sweat~"

Beel

Now is no time to think about how hungry he is becaUSE HES WORRIED ABOUT YOU

Beel isn't the type to really know much about humans, other than stuff about their food and how weak they are, so he's pretty much assuming you're going to die.

Literally won't leave your side. If you need anything, he brings it. If you need to go somewhere, he's carrying you.

He doesn't know how to care for you, so he asks his brothers for all the help he can get. Though he insists on personally bringing you the remedies they give him.

"Hang in there, MC. You should eat more to build up your strength. I know you can't keep anything down, so I asked Satan to make something good. Here, it's soup. I'll blow it off for you, so open wide."

Belphie

Honestly, he thought you were just taking a REALLY long nap. You hadn't left your room at all, and you didn't even go to RAD. He was lowkey jealous that Lucifer didn't scold you until he realized it was because you were sick.

And very sick from the looks of it. There were tissues everywhere, your room was hot, and you looked like you'd been dropped in a lake, fished back out, then beaten up and thrown back in.

He couldn't even tease you when you were in such a pitiful state. Belphie had seen illness plenty of times, so this wasn't anything new. It didn't ease his worries, though.

So he keeps you company by curling up in bed with you, not caring if he's close enough that he might get sick. He's not the best at actually caring for you, because he tends to forget to bring you things or falls asleep on the way, so he leaves that to his brothers.

"You must be lonely, being holed up in your room all alone. It can't be helped, so I'll stay with you until you're feeling better. Just don't get your snot on me, okay? ....heheh, I'm just joking. Come here."

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fightxxmexxshiggy · 3 years ago

Text

HOT DAY AND A TIRED MAN

This fic is dedicated to @lovelyladyraven for being my first ever paid commission.

Shouta Aizawa x fem reader

Tw:dangerous situation, breeding, OVERSTIMULATION

Word count: 3.5k

This was not how you had planned to spend your day. Your boss had decided that the roof needed to be cleaned on the second hottest day this summer! Of course you were the only one who had just finished up their task so he sent you to do it by yourself with a promise of sending the next available person up to switch with you soon. Instead you had spent two hours cleaning up dirt and shining the vents on a roof that no one but maintenance workers ever set foot on! Once you had seen how much time had passed you went to the door with every intention of stomping down the stairs and clocking out, not willing to do overtime just to clean a roof. But the knob wouldn't turn no matter how hard you pulled. You banged on the door a few times only to realize that one of the idiots that you work with had locked the door. Quickly you took out your phone and called the store phone no answer, then your boss's phone no answer, then you called the two other coworkers who had been working with you today. Not a single person answered you! You went over to the side of the building that looked over the parking lot seeing that all their cars were already gone from their usual spots. The bastards had left for the day and left you locked on the roof with no way to go home or even get water. You tried for another 30 minutes to reach your boss and coworkers only for them to start rejecting your calls. They did this on purpose. You went and sat in the shade of the roof door access and took a few calming breaths. You knew that they weren't going to come back until tomorrow and you also knew that they probably expected you to sit up here and cry waiting till morning for them to come and "save" you. So instead you looked up the number for the local fire department. Once someone picked up you heard a deep gravelly voice through the speaker.

"Fire station 6 what can I help you with?"

The man seemed tired and kind of put out but instead of apologizing for bothering him like your brain was screaming at you to do, you cleared your throat and spoke. You gave him a detailed rundown of your situation and explained that you would have called the emergency line first except your boss's wife worked the police directory and if he was locking you on the roof like this you were afraid that his wife would just not send anyone to help you. It was a small town and things like that were constantly looked over as long as you knew the right people. He hummed in agreement.

" That's sad but true. I know your boss and his wife well enough that you're probably 100 percent right about what they would do and how they would cover this up. They've done it before. Me and a few guys will be there in about 20 minutes to come get you down. Just keep calm and do your best to stay out of the sun until then we don't need you getting any more dehydrated than you already are."

He gave a quick goodbye and hung up. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing that you had chosen correctly when you called the fire station. You sat in the shade and tried to put a face to the voice of the tired firefighter who would be coming to free you from your rooftop prison. Like a fool you had never asked his name. As you thought about it you started to get a bit lightheaded. It had definitely been too long since you had any water. The heat was starting to get to you now that your adrenaline had stopped pumping so hard. With nothing else to do you layed down as much in the shade as you could and did a breathing exercise. During your exercise you must have blacked out because the next thing you knew you were being carried down the stairs in a set of strong arms.

The person carrying you was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what they were saying over the fog that was covering your brain. You knew the sound of that voice though. It was the tired firefighter but he sounded a whole lot less tired and a whole lot more angry. You really hoped he wasn't angry at you. Maybe you were too heavy and he was annoyed at having to lug you down the stairs. With a weak hand you reached up maybe to apologize somehow, but ended up cupping his cheek. His stubble felt funny in your already funny feeling hand. He stopped walking at the feeling of your hand on his face. You still couldn't open your eyes so instead you mumbled a garbled sorry and proceeded to pass back out going limp. The last thing you heard was the tired firefighter yelling at someone, maybe you?

You woke up again this time to the feeling of something plastic on your face. Opening your eyes was still a bit too much for you so you listened and tried to figure out what was going on. You vaguely remember the tired voice you had spoken to before you felt light headed and the feeling of being carried. As you listened you could make out the sounds of machines. Slowly you took stock of your body. You were sore and kinda warm but you could move a little bit. You breathed deeply, finally realizing that the plastic was an oxygen tube. You were definitely in the hospital then. After a few more minutes your eyes were in good enough condition that you opened them to look around the room. When you did you saw someone slumped in the chair in the corner. This was incredibly strange since you had no family in this town. Doing your best you cleared your throat preparing to ask who they were. At your sound the person's head shot up, eyes wide.

It was a man with tired eyes and long black hair that was on the scruffy side; it easily matched the stubble of a beard on his chin and cheeks. He stood up definitely tall enough to tower over you even when you were standing up yourself. The man walked to your bedside and took a deep breath before speaking.

"It's good to see you awake little one. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up. I'm the firefighter you spoke to asking for help when you were on the roof. I have a lot to explain to you but I'm gonna call the doctor in and have them look you over before anything else."

He called out into the hall after that and a doctor and a nurse bustled into the room within minutes. Your throat was too dry to answer their questions so you stuck to little nods and head shakes as they began to check your vitals and adjust your iv drip. Once they were sure you were stable enough you were once again left with your savior and no voice to thank him with. He came closer and pulled the chair along with him to settle in for your conversation.

"So you've been out of it for about 3 days. You got sunstroke while you were on the roof and your boss had double locked the door to get in and the door to the roof which slowed us down in getting to you. Your boss and his wife and your 2 coworkers have all been arrested. It was your boss's idea though apparently he kept hitting on you but you didn't give him the time of day so he wanted to teach you a lesson. His wife had your name flagged so that if you had called for help it would have given a dispatcher a notification to ignore you as a false reporter. His wife found out about his interest in you and was planning on making sure you were stuck on that roof all night. Your coworkers just went along with it because they didn't want to deal with your boss's anger."

Hearing all this pissed you off beyond belief. They could have killed you all because you would be a man's mistress and the man's wife would rather hurt someone than confront her husband. He looked at your face and patted your knee knowing there was nothing he could say that would make you feel any better about this. You looked up at him and grabbed his hand and brought it to your forehead, touching his knuckles there before placing a kiss on them. You were kind of happy that you couldn't really talk just yet because the blush on this man's cheeks was well worth the dry throat. He poured you a cup of water and handed it to you. You gave him a small smile and drank it gratefully.

Eventually you could speak some and the two of you formally introduced yourselves. He was Shouta Aizawa, the fire station chief and local fire safety instructor for this area. He hadn't felt right leaving you alone after he had gotten you off the roof and found that you lived alone in this town. He came off very blunt and serious but you could see his deep kindness in his actions. The doctors came back in, cutting your conversation short and making Shouta go back to his spot in the corner. After a few more checks the doctors cleared you to go home the following day as long as you had someone to watch over you for the next three days till your follow up appointment was. You frowned cause you did have any close friends who could do that for you. As you pondered over it you heard Shouta's voice over the doctor's.

"If you don't have a problem I can have you stay over in the guestroom at my house. I was already on a temp leave due to watching over you here so it wouldn't be much different with you at my house."

This man with a deep whiskey voice truly had a heart of gold. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth you readily agreed. After you had been up a few more hours and had a little bit to eat, Shouta left with the promise of a freshly cleaned room waiting for you tomorrow. You fell asleep that night feeling more cared for than you ever truly had. You woke up again slightly disoriented and thirsty but in much better condition than you had been the day prior. It was early so you took your time shaking the numbness out of your limbs and getting back your bearings. The nurse came in fussing about you standing with calling anyone to be a catcher for you. She stopped fussing though when she realized that you were indeed stable enough to walk to the bathroom alone.

Shouta had called the nurses station around 10 to let them know he'd be there by 12. With a few puppy dog looks you had a shower chair and an orderly who helped wash your hair and walk you back to bed. They had given you some hospital pajamas that you happily wore instead of the ugly gowns you had woken up in. You were clean and relaxed by the time Shouta had arrived to sign you out of the hospital. A nurse came around with a wheelchair and wheeled you down to the exit while the car was brought around. Shouta opened the door for the backseat but instead of giving you a hand to climb in he leaned down and scooped you out of the chair. Once you had been sat comfortably on the seat he shut the door leaving you with a moment to appreciate just how strong his arms were.

The drive to Shouta's home was relatively quick as is the way of small towns. His house was nice and seemed to be a cozy ranch style. After pulling into the garage you tried to get out yourself only to be caught up against a hard chest as your legs gave out the moment they were made to take your full weight. You looked up to see an exasperated glare. Part of your brain filled with chastised thoughts as the other filled with dirty thoughts. You really had to be better behaved when It came to your savior and benefactor but with him being so sinfully attractive it was kinda hard to do. Once again you were carried by the tired man this time into his home and deposited on the lone couch in his living room. He sat on his coffee table and faced you with a sigh.

"You're really gonna have to rely on me for a few days brat. Your body is trying to heal and you pushing it as you just did isn't doing the process any favors."

You sighed and agreed with him. After a short conversation about a few things you might need from the store and checking about any food allergies he got ready and headed to the store. You sat alone watching tv before clicking into his YouTube app to see what he watched most. A loud laugh burst from your chest as you realized that most of his watch history was full of cat videos and a few interviews with a local late night radio host. You watched the radio hosts videos thoroughly entertained by his boisterous personality. The next thing you knew you were being shaken awake by Shouta having fallen asleep with videos still playing on the tv. He helped you up and walked you to the bathroom and waited outside before scooping you up yet again. He was making it so damn hard not to think dirty thoughts when he kept carrying you around as if you were a small animal or something. Like sir the butterflies are in the stomach now but they will quickly fly south if you keep being so quietly sexy. A few hours later you were lying in bed when your thoughts finally got the best of you and had you touching your pussy as images of Shouta glaring down at you with his arms crossed showed behind your eyelids.

You had no idea how loud you were being as you rubbed your clit harshly, trying to get to the finish line. As you came you choked out his name. While you panted and came down from your high Shouta made his way back to his room quietly. He leaned back against his door and made a call before laying in his bed to jerk his very hard, very neglected cock. His brain kept replaying the sounds you made, the way you choked out his name as you came, how a satisfied little smile curled on your lips after you reached the finish line. He came with a growl, satisfied but not. He was definitely going to end up in trouble by the end of the week and he couldn't find it in himself to care. The following two days followed the same pattern, spending the day together and spending the night getting off to thoughts of the other in separate rooms. Though you were surprised to find that Shouta regularly walked around the house in nothing but sweatpants holding a full mug of coffee. On the fourth day you had become well enough to no longer need to be carried or walked everywhere. You were a little confused by Shouta's attitude as he had been glaring at the space above your head for most of the day. Finally tired of him doing this, you confronted him about it. You were not expecting his answer in the slightest.

"I've spent the last three nights hearing you play with your pussy while calling my name, I'm hard enough to hammer nails and I can't get out any over this energy cause I'm supposed to be watching out for you. All I wanna do is fuck you till you lose your mind. me glaring above your head has been me doing my best not to seduce you like an asshole."

He said everything in such a deadpan manner that you couldn't help but laugh. Once you caught your breath you grinned at him and pulled your shirt off over your head. Sitting on his couch with your tits hanging free and your nipples hardening in the cool air you proceeded to play with them. You were immediately picked up and taken to his room before being dropped on the bed. Never let it be said that the tired man couldn't move fast as you were stripped of your remaining clothes before he stripped himself bare. He pulled you to the edge of his bed by your ankles and dropped to his knees, a fierce smile on his lips.

"Been wanting to taste this bratty pussy for days. Bet it's as sweet as it looks."

His first lick was long. From your hole all the way over your clit. The squeak you let out at the feeling only made him more hungry. He spent what felt like an endless amount of time licking and thrusting his tongue as deep into your pussy as he could. By the time he finally gave your clit some much needed attention his chin was covered in pussy juice and your hole was fluttering as if it was seeking to be filled. Shouta teased you with a few small licks over your clit, making you whine and beg him to give you more. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he locked eyes with you and sucked your clit into his mouth. He sucked hard making you scream and thrash wildly. Your hands were buried in his hair as you squirted into his mouth. Your hips only stayed on the bed because of his strong arms keeping you in place. When he finally released your clit pussy juice was steadily leaking from your still twitching hole.

"Oh did I break you already? You were so bold before and now you're just a mess. Think you can take my cock or do you want me to tuck you in for a nap."

The shit eating grin on his face was enough for you to pull his hair and glare at him. He sat up and shoved your wrists above your head to hold in one of his large hands. Slowly he worked his fat dripping cock into your almost too tight pussy. You whined and moaned his name as he finally bottomed out hitting your back wall. He stretched you more than you ever had been before but it was so damn good. Shouta started slow, one hand gripping your thigh as he ignored your demands for him to speed up.

"You're gonna take what I give you like a good girl or I'll just pull out and cum all over you right now."

That shut you up except for the constant stream of moans that left your throat. Just as you were finally getting used to being split by such a thick cock he changed his rhythm. Fast pounding thrusts that knocked the breath from your lungs were nearly constant. You didn't have enough breath to scream so you sobbed. Your half words were incoherent except for "sho please." Shouta leaned down and whispered in your ear as his thrusts once again spread up. He bit your ear lobe before making you lose your mind.

"Such a tight little hole. I can't believe I had the strength to ignore it for three days. I could have at least eaten it while you laid back and rested. God I'm gonna have you for breakfast tomorrow."

The utter heat in his words threw you over the edge making you cum so hard you began to shake. He growled as your pussy clenched down on him. Shouta sunk his teeth into the pillow by your head before shoving his cock against your cervix and shooting his cum against it. As soon as he finished cuming he started to thrust again. No slow start this time, just hard pounding thrusts that made you wail in pleasure. It didn't take long for you to cum again but Shouta lasted longer this time entirely fucking his cum out of you before finally cuming inside again just as deep as the first time.

He pulled out and laid down next to you before pulling you on to his chest. You both panted trying to breathe like normal human beings again. Right as your breathing evened out you heard a voice from the doorway. And looked up to see the blonde radio host trailing his eyes over the two of you.

"I told you you wouldn't make it till I got home sho."

#bnha simping hours #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa shouta #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #firefighter aizawa

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magalidragon · 3 years ago

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safe & sound | a Targling drabble

A/n: I’m sorry I don’t have the Bad Valentine’s Day ficlet done yet. It’s been insane at work and I cannot dream of sneak writing smut there 😭 My computer also broke, my cat is sick, etc. When it rains it pours. I had this little drabble idea of Jonerys and their sick baby for about a week, @youwerenevermine had the idea to set it with Jon and Aemon from “first snow.” Enjoy! Oh yeah, trigger warning for a couple gross baby mentions 😂

There were few things Jon would not wish on his worst enemy. There were some things he thought would be perfectly fine to wish upon them. Right now he wouldn’t mind his worst enemy— fucking Orell who tried to scratch his eyes out when he arrested him up Beyond the Wall, or Tyrion Lannister, or his cousin Sansa— going through what he was going through right now.

He wiped something— vomit? Boogers?— off his front, sighing at the stain that had formed. It was a lost cause. He whipped the ruined shirt off, throwing it to the overflowing bin in the bathroom corner. “Dany?” he called, hearing her shuffling behind the partition. He poked his head around, sighing at her miserable expression. “Oh…”

“Go on without me,” she sobbed weakly. “Save yourself.”

It would be his turn soon enough. He leaned down to help her, but a choking sob filled the room, crackling out the baby monitor. “I’ll be back,” he promised, turning and running out and to the room across the hall.

Wading through thrown down tissues, humidifiers, destroyed clothes, and other sick child paraphernalia, Jon reached the crib. Aemon was already up, his face covered in tears and snot. His silver curls were stuck all over the place like a mad scientist and when he saw his father, he burst into grateful tears. His tiny fists opened and closed, reaching up for him.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Jon cooed, leaning down to lift him up. He sighed, feeling the full diaper. “Oh boy, another huh?” Aemon howled in response.

Curses for days to the parents who sent their sick kid to Aemon’s daycare. It was now closed as the entire class had been battling a combination of stomach and respiratory viruses. It started with a cough and sniffles, went straight to fever, and then the vomiting and Jon was waiting for the diarrhea which….

“Oh boy, this calls for a bath.” He gagged, wrapping Aemon in a towel, the baby choking through more sobs.

Since the virus had also knocked Dany down, he was the sole caregiver for them both. All she’d been able to do was eat some saltines and pump, which hadn’t gone over well with Aemon who didn’t want the bottle nor did he want the milk. It was just an all around hellscape in their house that weekend and even the fresh snow couldn’t cheer him up.

Ghost joined them in Aemon’s bathroom with the old claw foot tub, which had his baby bath chair already set up. While the water ran, nice and warm, he danced back and forth gently with Aemon in his dragon-hood towel, the baby sniffling and wiping his face into Jon’s bare shoulder. He kissed his son’s silver curls, patting his back and murmuring nonsense. “We’re gonna’ get a bath, clean you up, make you shiny and new,” he sang softly, sticking his bare foot into the water to check the temp. It was good enough so he lowered his poor baby into the water, the brief shock of it startling a cry from Aemon, who soon settled back into the chair, his hands swishing in the water when he realized what was going on and that this was an experience he normally enjoyed.

He washed Aemon up, continuing to sing to him. “Squeaky clean, squeaky clean, little Aemon Rhae is going to be squeaky clean.” He tapped his wet finger to Aemon’s raw, bright red nose, leaning in and smiling when his son managed to get his lips curving up. “Aw, there it is, see? Feeling better now?”

Aemon closed his eyes, huffing up and sneezed, snot flying out of his nose and right into Jon’s face. He sighed, shaking his head and reached for a towel. “I guess I deserved that.” He should have known not to get too close. Ghost got up from the floor and leaned over to check and make sure things were okay before he left, tail swishing so hard it almost shut the door.

He cleaned Aemon, getting rid of all the germs that could possibly be hiding in the fat rolls, his hair, his fingers and toes, and then cuddled him up again in a clean towel. A few minutes of pure torture– trying to get the gunk from his nose– he had Aemon crying and about ready to commit patricide. There was no word from Dany, so he buttoned Aemon into a clean dragon onesie, one of his favorites, and pulled the hood over his head to keep him warm.

Naps were still needed and he knew he should put him back into his crib, but when he went to lower Aemon down, his son cried again and his hands clenched tighter to his neck. He still had to put on a shirt, as the house’s chill was beginning to seep to his bones. “You still want me?” he asked, sighing. He nuzzled Aemon’s warm cheeks, whispering. “Is that going to make you feel better?”

“Hmmm,” Aemon hummed, burying his face deeper into his father’s chest.

“Alright.”

He chose the rocker, leaning back into it and tugged one of the handmade quilts that used to belong to him when he was a boy, wrapping it around his chest and shoulders, using it to swaddle Aemon against his chest. With his arms around the comforting weight of his son, he leaned back into the chair and propped his feet on the ottoman, yawning hugely. “Can you never get sick again?” he mumbled, soothingly rubbing Aemon’s back. “Because seven hells, this is harder than boot camp.”

Aemon snuffled some more, his thumb coming up to his mouth. Jon allowed it this one, since it was comforting him, and he absently drew shapes on Aemon’s back, dragging his fingers around and around, stealing a glance now and then to see if Aemon had fallen asleep, but he hadn’t. Instead, he was wide-eyed, peering up. Jon smiled down at him and shifted, so he was cocooned closer, able to look up, cradled. “You just wanted your papa, huh?” he breathed, adoration and love pouring from him for the little boy in his arms. He used his pinkie to trace Aemon’s cheek, moving to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. “Aye, when I’m sick I kind of want my Mumma, but I got your Mumma. She takes care of me now. Takes care of both of us.”

He wondered where Dany had gone, hoping that she’d at least gotten to the bed to fall asleep. If there was an emergency, Ghost or the cats would have come to find him. He glanced up at the flash of black and reddish brown, Drogon sidling into the room and over to sniff Aemon. The cat purred, flicked his tail, and left, satisfied that the Little Prince was safe. He chuckled, lifting his eyebrows. “I think Drogon might not hate me as much.”

Aemon smiled, his big violet eyes sleepy and droopy. He sniffed again and coughed, rubbing his hands up to his face. Jon moved them and tucked them down against his chest, rocking slowly and humming random Northern folk songs to bring Aemon to sleep. If this was what he needed, he’d give it to him, like he’d given up his sleep, his ick factor, and his sanity for his son.

He kissed Aemon’s head and shifted so his chin was resting atop Aemon’s head, leaning back in the rocker and squeezed him, the baby snoring gently, the soft sounds of it lulling him to sleep.

When he woke, what he hoped were only a few minutes later, but from the darkness outside, was hours, he was startled to see that his arms were empty and that a thicker quilt had been thrown over him. There was also a hoodie folded on the ottoman next to his feet. He sniffed; shit, guess it was starting in him now. He pulled the hoodie on and got up, scrubbing his face, and searching for Dany and Aemon.

He peeked into their bedroom, where Dany was feeding Aemon, singing in Valyrian to him. He stared at them a moment; it was his favorite sight, his wife with their son. She glanced up and smiled; her nose was still red and her eyes puffy. “You were so out of it, I thought it best to just take him.”

“Are you better?”

“Much, but I think I have a few more rounds left in me.” She nodded to the clock. “Aemon seems like he’s run through everything. His fever broke and he isn’t sniffling as much.”

Jon sneezed, groaning at the pain in his throat. “Well I think it’s my turn.”

“It was only a matter of time.”

“Tell me how long do we have of this?”

She laughed. “Another eighteen years I think?”

“Aw, damn.” He collapsed onto the bed and cupped Aemon’s head, watching him eat, his brow pinched, focused and determined. “We should think of weaning him soon, right?”

“He’s already weaning, but when he’s sick, I think it makes him feel better.”

Jon rested his head on her shoulder, sighing and closed his eyes. “I can imagine. You make me feel better too.”

She laughed softly. “And you do the same for me. Except you gave me my flu.”

“Me? It was that damn Bolton brat. Got everyone sick.”

“Hmmm, my virus is a tad more complicated.”

He opened his eyes, concerned. “Oh?”

“Oh.” She was smiling, her violet eyes twinkling. “I had to go to the pharmacy, when you were giving him a bath.”

“I wish you’d told me, I would have gone.”

“No, you needed to take care of Aemon, he wanted you.” She exhaled and Aemon detached, his eyes hooded, drunk on milk and love. She reattached her bra strap and grinned sideways. “My virus lasts about nine months. The effects of it…a lifetime.” She nuzzled Aemon, passing him over. “Seems the next couple of weeks I’ll be in the bathroom, if history is any prediction of the future.”

Jon had no bloody idea what his wife was on about. He turned Aemon so his son’s back was to his chest, playing with his feet. Aemon was fascinated with his feet lately and sure enough, reached to try to remove a sock. He ran through what she was saying in his head and finally it dawned on him.

“Oh!”

“There it is,” she laughed.

“But you…”

“I was sick, I had his virus. Probably still do, but then I realized some things and just needed to confirm.” She kissed his cheek, whispering. “We get to do this all over again. And again. And again.”

He grinned, glancing down at Aemon, who was oblivious. “Hear that Aemon? You’re gonna’ be a big brother.”

Aemon hiccuped and spit up, glancing down at the mess he’d made before he giggled. He clapped his hands and kicked his feet. Dany sighed, shaking her head. “I guess he’s feeling better.”

Jon sneezed again and coughed, groaning. “And I’m definitely not.”

“Come on Aemon, let’s get you to bed. Mumma has to start taking care of Papa.”

He rolled over to grab a Kleenex, but the box was empty. He tossed it to the floor, but the action already made his arm feel like he’d thrown a dumbbell. He groaned, shoving his face into the pillow.

Damn kid, he thought, but then smiled.

It was totally worth it.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys fanfic #Targling fic

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middleearthpixie · 2 years ago

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Good Trouble ~ Chapter Three

Durin’s Garage AU - Good Trouble ~ Part 3

Modern Spin on The Hobbit

Summary: When your car breaks down, there is only one garage in town - Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs. And sometimes, they do more than just tune your engine, check your oil, and top off your fluids…

Everyone in town knows Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs is THE place to go when your car needs work, and everyone knows that Dwalin Fundinson is to be avoided outside of the garage. He’s an ace mechanic, but trouble otherwise.

Your first date is coming, and you’re both a little nervous about it.

Pairing: Modern!Dwalin x reader

Warning: None - just some sweet fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Khuzdal translations: Mesmel - my jewel of jewels

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

If you wish to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know.

The flat-bed truck rattled like an empty cracker box as Dwalin steered along Route Seven, which was the main road in and out of town. He had the radio playing loud enough to be heard with the windows open. Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr. Crowley. An oldie but a goodie.

But, he barely heard the lyrics. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to you. He’d known the frat boy was going to be trouble when the bouncer tossed him last night, and it lay heavily on his mind when he’d paid his bill and left. He couldn’t stop worrying about you, worrying the pissed off kid with the serious attitude would come back and cause trouble for you.

His instinct turned out to be right, as usual, which was why he’d learned long ago to listen to it and trust it. It saved his ass more than once and now, it saved yours as well.

He’d been watching you for weeks now. He remembered the first time he saw you, not quite three months ago when he and Thorin had popped into the Dunraven after work one night. He’d been shocked to see Kelly was gone, and in her place, a woman who stole the breath from his lungs and rational thought from his mind without even trying.

You were tiny, and delicate, and he was sure he could lift you with one arm and when he helped you up from the pavement last night, he realized he wasn’t wrong. You were every bit as tiny and delicate as he imagined.

And up close, you were even more beautiful than he thought. When you kissed him, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happened. Girls like you didn’t look at guys like him. Girls like you preferred the frat boys, the rich kids with their fancy sports cars and designer clothes, and big, bouffy hairstyles.

He’d never been so glad to be wrong before.

As he came around a curve, he saw the box truck on the shoulder, its flashers on, and the man he presumed was the driver standing on the far side of the vehicle, looking pissed off. Hard to blame him. It snowed last night, but today the temps were expect to rise into the sixties. A beautiful day, with sunshine and blue skies and no one wanted to be stranded on the side of the road in weather like this.

He rolled to a stop ahead of the box truck and climbed down. “Dwalin from Durin’s Garage and Engine Repair,” he called, slamming the door to the black cab shut. “Ye called for a lift?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch crapped out on me.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Do I look like a mechanic?”

“Easy,” Dwalin held his hands up, palm out. “Some guys know enough. What happened?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “It began running rough about five miles back, at the rest stop. Then, when I got here, it up and died and now it won’t start. And I gotta be in Jamesburg by three.”

“Yer not making Jamesburg by three,” Dwalin replied, shaking his head. “Ye might want to call and let them know.”

The man sighed as he dug his cell from his front jeans pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

While he dialed and then complained into his Galaxy, Dwalin moved back to the flatbed, climbing into the cabin to start the hydraulics to lower the ramp. As it moved into place, he climbed back out, emergency triangles in one hand and road flares in the other, and set them out behind the box truck. He lit three of the flares to place parallel to the box truck as well. A few months ago, a driver in the next town had gotten killed trying to hook up a disabled vehicle, so Dwalin took no chances.

Then he set to work hooking up the cables to draw the box truck onto the bed, climbed up into the box truck itself to set the transmission into neutral, and then return to the black flatbed again to winch it in and lock it into place.

“Ye can ride with me,” he called to the man still yelling into his cell. The man just waved him off, and as Dwalin turned, he held his hand in front of his chest, middle finger extended, then moved to gather up the triangles, extinguish the flares, and climbed back in behind the flatbed’s wheel.

Finally, the man graced him with his presence, climbing up into the passenger seat and throwing himself down with a heavy sigh. “How far is the service station from here?”

“Not quite two miles,” Dwalin replied, turning over the engine and eased the transmission into first gear. As they slowly rocked back onto the road, he added, “Ye’ll have the best mechanics in the state working on this and it’ll be up and running before you know it.”

“Great. Too bad I’ll miss my drop-off time, which means I get to eat the inventory in there.”

Dwalin looked over at him. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that. But, it beats standing out on the side of the road. There’s a diner across the street where ye can get a bite to eat while Thorin or Kili takes a look.”

“Wonderful.”

Dwalin depressed the clutch, shifted into second, and then third, and little by little, worked his way up through the gears. There wasn’t much traffic out this morning, at least, not until they crossed the town line. Then the road grew clogged and he had to downshift.

As Durin’s Garage came into sight, he slowed further, and carefully maneuvered the flatbed back into the lot, lining it up with the bay on the far right, which was recently vacated by a green Audi. They jerked back and forth slightly as he crept back, eyes trained on his mirrors.

Then, they stopped and the air brakes hissed as they decompressed. The man climbed down as Thorin came out of the bay, wiping his hands on an oil-stained rag. “This the truck from Seven?”

Dwalin nodded as he jumped down. “Yeah. I told him to go grab a bite across the street.” He nodded at the man, who was already halfway across Main Street. “He’s a real friendly sort.”

“The two of you must’ve got on great, then,” Thorin drawled, tucking the rag into the pocked of his Carhartt jumpsuit.

“Funny.” Dwalin climbed up to begin unhooking the box truck. “So, how was yer night?”

Thorin grinned. “I’m not kissing and telling. Yours?”

“Ye know that bartender from the Dunraven?”

“The little one?” Thorin waited for him to nod, then said, “Yeah. What about her?”

Dwalin smiled and said, “Took her for a ride on my bike this morning.”

Thorin’s grin widened. “‘Bout time, my friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m taking her out tonight. Dinner, I think. We’re going to the Nest. That’s not too dive-y, is it?” He unhooked the last cable, then moved to climb down. “Get in and I’ll lower ye.”

Thorin climbed up into the cab. “Dive-y?”

“Yeah.” Dwalin paused at the controls to lower the bed and unwind the winch, “ye know, the kind of place that ye'd find me, but would be surprised to find her there. I don’t think she does dive bars on her off days.”

Thorin shook his head. “She doesn’t do them on her work days, either. The Dunraven may be many things, but a dive bar is not one of them.”

“Do ye think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t know. She’s your date!”

Dwalin waited for Thorin to get settled, then he lowered the bed and set the winch to unspool while Thorin maneuvered the box truck carefully into the bay. Once the flat bed was empty, Dwalin rerolled the winch and set there be flat once more and then climbed back into the cab. But before he could put it into first, Kili came out of the office. “We got another one for you, Dwalin. A Chevy Suburban out on Kilmer that has no brakes.”

Thorin came out of the garage. “Not Abrams again.”

“‘Fraid so,” Kili grinned at him, “and she asked that you do the work yourself, Thorin.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got plans for tonight and they do not involve Miss Abrams or her fucking SUV.”

Dwalin shook his head as Kili turned toward him. “I’ve also got plans, junior. This one is yers or Fili’s. I’ll go get her, but I’m droppin’ her in yer lap.”

Usually, on your off day, you ran all the errands you didn't have time to do during the days when you worked. Your normal shift was noon to ten, although sometimes on weekends you did six to two in the morning, when the Dunraven closed.

And today was no exception when it came to those damned errands. You went to the bank, to the post office, returned a couple of library books before they were late, and as you came out of the library, you saw a big, shiny black flatbed with with words Durin’s Garage written in elegant gold script on the door, and caught sight of Dwalin behind the wheel. Your heart gave a weird little leap and your belly twisted in a way that reminded you of when you were in middle school and saw the boy you’d been crushing on all marking period. It’d been a long time since you felt those maddening butterflies, since just the sight of the guy you crushed on was enough to unleash them.

It had been such a wonderful night, even if you didn't get much sleep as a result. It was hard to complain, since good sex was absolutely worth a little sleep deprivation.

He wanted to take you to the Nest. You’d never been there before and had no idea what it was like. What was the dress code? Casual? Formal? There were restaurants of all stripes in town, so neither one was too far out of the realm of the possible.

And that left you in a quandary.

What did you wear?

This was the finest of lines you could walk. Too fancy, and he might think you a snob. Too causal, and you risk offending him by showing him you didn't think he would take you to a nice restaurant. Your relationship was so new, you had no idea how easily offended he might be, or how sensitive he might be about certain matters. The last thing you wanted to do was have him think you were judging him and finding him lacking, and the last thing you needed was him doing the same to you.

When you returned home, you had three more voice mails from your father. All were erased, unheard, and you sat on your sofa, cell phone in hand, trying to work up the nerve to call Dwalin. You hadn’t had this many butterflies in your belly since you were twelve and trying to call Jeff Moretti to ask him to borrow his science notes. Which was silly, really, because you already knew Dwalin wanted you to call him, already knew you would see him later.

And yet, you couldn’t make your fingers see reason.

“Oh, you are such an ass,” you muttered, tapping the phone lightly against your forehead. “Just. Call. Him.”

It took you several more minutes of arguing with yourself before you finally pulled up the keypad and dialed. Another minute to hit send. Then you waited.

“The caller you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please leave a message. Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes and at the beep, said, “Hi there, it’s me. I was just calling to see how your—ah—day was going because I—um… I saw you out on the highway and I just thought it’d—it’d be—ah—nice to just say hi. So, hi?”

You winced as you hung up. You tried so hard to sound breezy and casual and you ended up sounding like a total tool. Well, maybe he’d think it was cute. Maybe.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. One of the selling points of your apartment was the size of the walk-in closet in your room. It was almost a small room in and of itself, and while you tried to keep it neat, sometimes your inner Oscar Madison came roaring to life and it looked like your closet vomited clothes everywhere.

With a sigh, you went back out to the living room to retrieve your phone and Googled the Nest to peruse its website. Casual. Jeans and a nice top would be just fine.

This time, the phone landed in the middle of your bed and returned to the closet, where you stood in the middle of it, forefinger pressed to your lips, and studied everything hanging neatly, arranged first by season, then by color. Winter was coming, although it was nearly sixty degrees outside now. By tonight it would be back in the thirties, most likely. Dwalin rode a motorcycle.

You were going to freeze. It didn't matter what you wore. You were doomed to becoming a popsicle.

Of course, you did get to hold onto Dwalin, and that was nice. But, if your arms snapped off like icicles because of the cold, you’d not only fall off his bike, but you’d probably shatter when you hit the pavement as well. Not exactly a comforting thought.

But you’d worry about later. For now, you had to find the right thing to wear. Nothing too casual, nothing too fancy, nothing too boring, but nothing too sexy, either. First dates were a bitch to begin with, but this was worse when you’d already gone to bed with Dwalin. Now, it didn't really matter to a certain extent what you wore, because he’d already fucking seen you naked.

Still, you chose and rejected about a dozen different outfits and jumped when the buzzer went off. You darted down the hallway to the living room before he thought you’d changed your mind about everything, and hit the intercom button, “Dwalin?”

“It’s me, yeah. Ye expecting someone else?”

“No. Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, it’s habit. Come on up.”

You pushed the button that would unlock the double glass doors in the vestibule, and waited for the knock on the front door, tugging it open when it came. “I’m here, sorry about that.”

He smiled. “Sorry about what?”

“Just.. uh…” you winced, “everything? It’s been a long day. Come on in.”

He stepped inside and let out a low whistle. “Damn… This makes my place look like a dump.”

“Oh, stop it, your place is perfectly nice and you know it.” You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you watched him take in the large living room, which was almost twice the size of the one in his apartment. You flinched again, trying to see it thorough his eyes and being hopelessly embarrassed by it. His apartment offered up warmth and hominess, but yours? Yours was cold and impersonal, the arctic white walls and dark gray trim chosen by the interior decorator your father hired, not you. But since it technically wasn’t your apartment, changing it was out of the question. If he saw it, you’d never hear the end of it.

“I don’t know,” he said, gesturing to the dark gray sectional sofa that almost perfectly matched the trim. “This looks like something out of a magazine.”

You sighed, pushing away from the door. “It’s my father’s doing. He chose everything about it from the paint colors to the location. He wanted me to be safe because he—he worries. You know how fathers can be. Always afraid I’ll be murdered in my own bed.”

“I don’t have any sisters.” He stared up at the painting hanging over the fireplace. “Only a brother and our father never worried we’d be murdered in our beds.”

He glanced over one shoulder at you. “Is that ye?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you slowly nodded. The portrait was of you and your parents, done when you were still a gawky teenager and you hated it but if you took it down, the next time your father came to call, you knew you’d hear about it. So the ugly duckling stayed on the wall.

“Ye were cute.” He turned to you, shrugging out of his heavy leather jacket tp drape it over the arm of the sofa.

“Cute? I look like a troll there.”

“Nah,” he crossed over to you, arms folded as he peered down at you, “A goblin, maybe, but not a troll.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “thank you.”

“Lucky for ye, I’ve a soft spot for goblins.”

“You know, I don’t think I want to go out with you tonight.”

A low chuckle rolled your way and he caught your cheeks between his palms. “It sounded better in my head.”

“It should’ve stayed there.” You couldn’t resist smiling as his thumbs swept along your cheekbones. They were so light, so gentle, you almost couldn’t feel it, but with each graze, you seemed to grow a little warmer. No man ever had this effect on you before. He only had to gaze at you with those piercing blue eyes, and your heart skipped a beat, your blood warmed by several degrees, and an unfamiliar heat swelled between your legs.

His cologne touched your nose—a sexy combination of sandalwood and hints of patchouli—and that only made the heat warmer still. He also looked almost edible in faded Levi’s and a black henley, which he’d left unbuttoned enough to allow a hint of silver-tipped chest hair to peek up.

He leaned toward you, his lips soft and teasing when they met yours. On their own, your fingers curved about his massive forearms, your lips parting at the slight pressure of his tongue against them. His fingers stretched into your hair, his kiss deepening as his tongue skimmed along yours, as it teased yours with a slow, silken caress. He absolutely knew how to kiss, knew just how to tease and taste and stroke to start a low, pleasant hum through your body. As his lips moved so softly against yours, your hips arced toward his, sought out that part of him that just made you want to melt at his feet.

You slid your hands down his forearms, eased your arms about his waist, your heart skipping a beat when he pulled away. “We should go now, mesmel,” his whisper was low and growly, “for if I keep kissing ye, we are not leaving this apartment.”

His kiss, his words, left you somewhat breathless. “Mesmel?”

He brushed your lips once more, then stepped back. “Ye wouldn’t believe me if I told ye.”

“Try me.”

“Later.” He picked up his jacket to shrug into, then added, “Ready?”

“Dwalin,” you leveled a long look at him, “what does it mean?”

He looked about. “Where is your coat?”

“Dwalin!”

A hint of color appeared along his cheekbones above his bushy dark beard and he took a deep breath before saying, “It means my jewel of jewels.”

That was not what you expected and you just stared at him for a long moment, your face growing warm. No one ever said anything remotely similar to that to you. “In… what language?”

Draping the leather jacket over his arm, he said, “Khuzdul. It’s an old language, passed down through my family for generations. Not many speak it these days.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t. As I said, it’s almost a dead language.”

“But you speak it? Fluently?”

“I do, yes.” He shrugged into his jacket. “If ye like, I can teach ye some of it.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did, mesmel.

“Mesmel.” You smiled then, moving to stand before him, a hand resting on his chest. “Is that how you see me? Already?”

“It’s how I’ve seen ye since the first time I saw ye, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

“I told ye I wanted to ask ye out for a long time. Just never had the balls to do it before now.” He glanced down at the long, black wool coat you’d draped over the sofa arm earlier. “We should go.”

Before you could reach for it, he swept the coat up and held it out for you. With a smile, you shrugged into it and then spun about to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’m glad you finally found the balls, Dwalin.”

He grinned. “Makes two of us.”

You locked the door behind you and led him to the elevator. Once you were outside, you shivered as the wind had picked up to send leaves scuttling along the sidewalk, but as you scanned the parking lot, you didn't see the Harley. “Where’s your bike?

“Ye didn’t think I’d actually make ye ride on the back of it in this weather, did you?” He dug a set of car keys from his jacket pocket and led you over to a sleek, black Corvette Stingray. You looked up to find him grinning at you.

“So, wait.” You gestured toward the Corvette. “This is yours, but you walked to the bar last night anyway??

“Yeah. I don’t mind walking. Especially in the snow. I'd rather walk than risk cracking this up. It took me two years to restore her.”

“Wait? You did this?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I work with cars, remember?”

“Well, I know, but... damn…” You took in the Stingray's sleek lines and mint-condition. “What year is this?”

“Seventy-five.”

“Dwalin.”

“What? I really don't mind being out in the cold. This is my time of the year, so I’m perfectly fine with walking in it.”

“You’re nuts.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You nodded at the ’Vette. “And this is yours?”

“It’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “And here I thought I’d be freezing my ass off hanging onto you on the back of a motorcycle.”

“Do I look that crazy? It’s too damn cold to ride at night now. But,” he draped an arm about your neck and pulled you close to brush your lips with before growling, "when the weather gets warmer, yer going to be hanging on to me very chance we get.”

“I don’t think I’ll mind that all that much,” you told him, smiling as he kissed you again. “I kind of like the feeling of holding on to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He grinned, pulling back. “Let’s go, before they give our table away and we end up sitting near the kitchen.”

#The Hobbit #Dwalin #Dwalin Fundinson #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Dwalin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Dwalin x reader #Dwalin short fic #modern au #garage au #stay tuned #more to come

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years ago

Text

Closer

Neil x F!Reader

Summary: Plot what plot.

Warnings: 18+ (and I really mean it this time), they're both trying to dominate and I've no clue what's going on.

Author's Notes: Suppose this is what happens when an image won't leave you alone and you crave a self-indulgent one-shot... I don't even know, but this took remains of my sanity. Challenged myself with more graphic and this is what we ended up with.

Thank you Shet for reassurance through writing this and not having enough of my whining.

Feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you'll enjoy!

It is always the same. That brilliant idea to go for lunch and do a round of sightseeing in the afternoon because surely it wouldn’t be too bad. Right?

Well, whoever thought of that was owed an excruciating death in the fires of Hell. Or Orcus, as would be more appropriate for the current location. Who knew the Italian coast transforms into the Death Valley over summer? Sighing with exasperation, you waited not so patiently as Neil slipped the key card into the door and opened the room with a typical flourish. Feeling the constant trickle of sweat down your back, you pushed him inside unceremoniously and let the door close with a thud. As the cold air enveloped your body with the sweetest of embraces, you could not hold back a pleased groan.

“Fuck” the curse not enough to express the internal pain “Jesus fucking Christ, I hate this heat,” accentuating the meaning you aggressively lowered the aircon temperature to 18C “Did I mention that temps above 25 Celsius should be made illegal?” remembering about Neil’s presence, you glared at him.

It was his shit idea in the first place. And you were never letting that one go. He was staring at you with amusement glimmering in the blue eyes. Another reason to punch him in the teeth. Or something.

“More or less twenty times within the last hour, why?” answering your question, he opened the minibar and took out a bottle of water.

Nonchalantly perching on the desk, he took a longer sip, still watching you with curiosity. No remorse whatsoever over the tortures he put you through. Annoying.

But not more so than the sweat still running down your skin, making the fabric stick to your body in places you never deemed possible. When leaving the hotel three hours ago, the linen shirt sounded like a good idea. Now, with half of it drenched, you were sure nudity was the only viable option to go outside. Groaning with frustration, you tugged at the garment, grimacing at the feel of the damp fabric.

“God, everything just feels… wet” uttering the word with loathing, you added, “Like soaking wet,”

That got Neil’s attention. He glanced up with the lips slightly parted, one eyebrow raised.

“Everything?” a quick scan of your body, swallowing hard as though the suggestion triggered thirst that no water could quench.

Uh-huh. The irritation too high to give in just yet. Instead, you allowed yourself to sweep your gaze over his form leisurely. The only sign that he too was bothered by the heat was the glistening forehead and flushed cheeks. The usually fluffy mane tamed, strands sticking to the temples. Still devilishly handsome. With the long legs crossed and the blue polo shirt perfectly bringing out the colour of his eyes, he looked godly. Unfair. Prompted by that thought, you closed the distance and snatched the chilled water bottle out of his hand:

“It’s not like you’d get it, though. Even soaked in sweat you look like a bloody… male Aphrodite” throwing in the slight, you quickly downed the rest of the water.

Another look at your boyfriend was enough to assure you the metaphor worked. Neil was gaping at you, utterly puzzled, and then slowly looked down as if to check himself out. You snickered when he lifted the edge of the shirt and touched his abdomen with a dream-like expression. Fondly: idiot.

“Is that an insult or a compliment? Because I admit I lost you there” shaking off the stupor, he met your watchful gaze with a frown.

It was difficult to stay mad for much longer. And so…

“Whichever one you want,” shrugging, you unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to the ground, “I need a shower. ASAP”

Without waiting for Neil to respond, you started taking off the shirt. With a disgusted sound, you threw it next to the skirt and positioned yourself underneath the AC. Still too many clothes. The noise of plastic bottle hitting the bin and then:

“Whoa…” the playful tone making you look up straight into the mischievous sparks in Neil’s eyes, “That’s giving me all sorts of ideas” he eyed you slowly, gaze taking in your body clad only in underwear.

Not that it was anything new. And usually, you would play along with pleasure, curious about where it might lead you this time. Now, however, that fire of annoyance burning bright still needed tending. And shower sounded much better than whatever Neil might offer.

With a huff, you reached to unclasp the bra and let it join the carnage in the hallway. One look at his hungry expression was enough to prompt an idea. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and, without leaving time to react, pressed the bathroom handle:

“I won’t lock the door” an off-hand remark rather than an invitation.

But you knew it would work. It always did.

Once inside, thanks to the striptease you indulged in, all that was left was to take off the panties and step into the shower. You turned on the rain head and sighed with happiness when the chilly water cooled off your body. That is what bliss felt like. You closed your eyes, contented enough to stand under the running water. Grounding yourself in the feeling of your palm pressed firmly to the tiled wall. A smug smirk spreading on your lips when, finally, you heard the bathroom door open and close. So predictable.

You kept your back turned to the entrance to the shower, eyes closed if only to keep up the act of mild irritation. Not so mild, in fact, but enough not to give Neil satisfaction by throwing yourself in his arms. He would have to work a little to get something out of it.

At first, a tentative touch running up your spine in the familiar expression of his presence. Enough to trigger the light flicker of passion. With the cold water, it was easy to pretend the goosebumps were not his accomplishment. Encouraged by your stillness, Neil took a step, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. A traitorous gasp swallowed with effort. You heard him chuckle lowly while slowly caressing your body. A puff of warmer air against the side of your neck:

“Ever since I saw you in that sundress, I wanted to do this,” Neil whispered the confession with confidence.

Lips grazing over the shell of your ear, alighting the nerve endings with precision. You knew which dress he meant. The clothing choice from a day earlier, haunting with an accompanying pride. Good to know.

“What exactly?” feigning nonchalance, you kept your hands pressed against the wall and the glass window.

For now, it was easy to ignore the need slowly pooling in your lower stomach. You wanted to keep on playing the game a little longer. To see how far he was willing to go.

Neil tightened the grip, winding both of his arms around your waist. No space left between you.

“Pull you flush against me,” the explanation complemented with a brave sweep of hand over your stomach “Feel your skin and curves under my fingertips” instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, the desire building up steady “Feel the way you shiver whenever I touch you like this” his fingers teasingly running up and down your navel.

The assumption was enough to give back that spark of annoyance. A fight to keep up the role a little longer. Struggling with the overwhelming breathlessness, you whispered back the question:

“Aren’t you giving yourself too much credit?” you reached behind you to run a ghostly touch over his hipbone.

Feeling the skin and the relishing in the shallow gasp. In retaliation, Neil let his hands venture higher, cupping your breasts and circling the nipples. Fuck. At that move, there was no way of stopping the shudder running through your body.

“Am I?” you heard the amusement in his voice, palms executing death perfectly.

Nothing left to do but sigh and press up against him in search of fulfilment. But the teasing was far from finished. You felt his lips experimentally glide over the nape of your neck, collecting the water droplets and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Searching for support, you firmly placed your hand on his hip, gasping at the feel of him pressing into your backside. The hardness never failing to cause a rush of excitement flowing through your body. As though sensing your growing arousal, Neil continued the teasing in a low, soft tone:

“I wanted to kiss down your neck, graze my teeth over your perfect skin” making his words come true, he trailed kisses down the nape of your neck.

A sigh each time he lightly bit your shoulder, a groan with every single butterfly touch along your shoulder blades. Carefully tiptoeing the line between animalistic passion and tender caress that seemed to define your relationship. Only this time, with anger still fresh on your mind, you began getting impatient, suddenly eager for him to speed it up. To give you something more substantial.

Using the strike of courage, you reached your hand further back, curious fingers dancing over him in the mildest of provocations. To give him a sign that patience was running thin. It worked for Neil let out a strangled groan and stopped the careful study of your neck with a painful hickey over the pulse point. That was bound to leave a deep red mark. He did not give you time to react, pulling you somehow even closer and delving the hand between your legs with ease:

“To slip my fingers between your thighs and feel how wet you are because of me,” the sentence murmured with an unmistakable tint of want hazing his mind.

He wasted no time, instantly parting your folds, collecting the arousal, and spreading it to ease whatever was bound to come next. The feeling was familiar yet still clouding your brain with need. Because now even the cold water was not helping the rising temperature. Nothing left to lose. Time to give in and take what he would offer. As he repeated the torturous move, barely touching your clit or putting pressure on the throbbing parts, you decided to take matters into your hands.

“And?” using the question as a distraction to encircle his wrist.

And raise the offensive hand to your lips. Licking his fingers clean before the water could. A sharp gasp told you it worked. Using the momentum, you turned around in his embrace and met the shocked, darkened gaze with a smirk of your own. Neil glanced at your lips as though tempted to collect the remains of your taste from them and locked his eyes with yours:

“Get down on my knees and have a taste of my favourite drug,” a murderous glint within the blue depths.

Knowing well enough how much you enjoyed that. How often you would ask for it.

Your thighs clenched on their own accord, anticipation heightening the senses. To find a brief relief, you rose on your toes and crashed your mouth into his, knowing Neil would meet you halfway. The tumultuous kiss filled with chaos, hunger, and need, betraying the love underscoring every other adjective befitting your connection. The tongues easily slipping in, curling around each other, seeking the ultimate pleasure.

“What’s stopping you?” after a long snog, you broke the contact and panted out, resting your forehead against his.

Allowing yourself a second of gentleness. Admiring the affectionate look in Neil’s eyes, you slowly caressed his body. Returning the previous torments with your dose of playfulness. Letting him remember that you were not the only one that was so ready. That the attraction was mutual, and you knew that very well. Explorative touches down his length, enjoying the way he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to find the lost thread. After a beat, he met your gaze once again. The darkness startling.

“Nothing” using a second of hesitation, Neil took your courageous hand in his and searched your face, “Only… say please” the satisfied smirk added the wicked gleam to his face.

You considered scoffing and pushing him out to keep the pride intact. But… with the core practically dripping with the need for a release, that had to be forgotten. Clenching your jaw to stop the shame from springing up, you uttered the word with apprehension:

“… Please,” making sure to show him the extent of annoyance.

A retaliation already forming in your mind. Revenge would be sweet.

“Good girl” thought processes cut short with the two words.

Oh fuck. Simple, yet more effective than anything else. A jolt of want passing through your body as Neil tipped your chin, arrogantly pleased with himself. He could read you like a book, knowing well what praise would do. This time there was no holding back. No shame or reluctance.

“You fucking-” spitting out the words with annoyance, your rant got stopped with a finger pressed firmly against your lips.

“Shush,” the stern tone, shutting you up with yet another wave of arousal.

The steel look in Neil’s eyes only increasing the sensation. It was bound to get interesting. As if drawn by your dark stare, he closed the gap and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The water, running down, slipping in the gap between you, failing to satisfy the craving. Prodded by the sudden flash of need, you let your teeth catch Neil’s lower lip and tugged at it forcefully. A clear signal to stop stalling. Ending the contact with a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, he met your wild gaze with a calculating assessment. You knew the game well, frozen by the multitude of feelings. Not that it would’ve made him speed up. He enjoyed the control too much to give in.

A final searching look, your hand helplessly clinging to the gaps between the tiles.

“The louder, the better, you know that” brushing his nose over your ear, he whispered the command huskily.

Another reason to hold on tight. A flare-up of anger within your chest, mixing with the increasing frustration.

“I hate you,” you got as far as seething out the sentence before the voice died in your throat.

Neil grinned and lightly pushed you at the wall to give himself the needed space. Without wasting a moment, he started leaving kisses down your body. Gentle pecks on the shoulders, softening the previous damage. Tongue swirling around your nipples, causing a whimper to escape through your parted lips. Your free hand instinctively latched onto his head, finding an anchor in the wet blonde strands. Slowly, Neil inched his way down, kneeling at your feet, hands running up your thighs, creating sparks in their wake.

“Let’s see how long that holds true” he looked up, nothing but a smug smile and dark, hungry eyes.

Fucked. Terrifyingly so.

There was no time to react as he left a trail of kisses up your thighs, getting closer yet taking his time. And then, something you would never get tired of. The first, experimental kitten lick along your slit, parting the folds and spreading the arousal. As if that was needed. Lapping up everything you were offering and making you tighten the grip over his hair. Shocks passing through your body upon every single touch of his tongue. As you yanked on his mane with force, letting out a string of curses, Neil raised his head. Your eyes were drawn to the glistening lips which he licked clean with an unhidden expression of delight.

“God, how I love this taste,” the compliment aimed with lethal precision, satisfaction lighting up his eyes.

Only to pick up the action the very next second. Temperature constantly rising, no mercy given. It only got worse when Neil added his skilful hand to the mix. Stroking the clit, eliciting moans and gasps. Your eyes screw shut, focusing on the way it felt when his finger entered you and started curling inside in search of that sweet spot.

“Jesus fuck” the profanity escaping when he added the second digit, all the while letting his tongue circle the sensitive bud.

Chuckle vibrating through your core, the unoccupied hand contradicting the moment with tender strokes along your hip. As if to soothe and support.

The haze, getting heavier, overcasting everything with the tint of need. For a release. For that high, the explosion of pleasure you were slowly edging. The scales tipped with two fingers curling inside you, hitting the most sacred of places, and Neil’s lips sucking on the clit without moderation. Taking everything with eagerness and delectation.

With the heat almost unbearable and the edges of your vision darkening, you could only pull at his hair with force and rasp out:

“Neil, I can’t-” the intent lost in the outburst of pleasure.

Every nerve, existing to receive what Neil was offering. Every cell, burning with ecstasy. You could feel the incoming wave, ready to succumb to it without a fight. Until he raised his head once more, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers, everything synced up perfectly.

“Come… on. For me,” the emphasis not escaping your overflooded mind, gaze meeting his helplessly, “Don’t be shy” a whisper, darkness tinting the vowels.

The feeling of defeat, adding a dose of shame into the whirlwind, fuelling the ideas of vengeance.

But there was no time to concentrate when Neil finished the act with the third finger easing in. Tipping you off the edge with a piercing cry and a desperate tug on his hair. The strength of the pull making him groan loudly, tongue collecting the arousal with frantic moves. Pleasure flooding your vision. Nothing but the water, Neil, and his body, solid beneath your shaking hands.

Your knees buckled, the force of the aftershocks ripping through your system. Feeling the high course through the veins, you shut your eyes and let out quiet whimpers, unable to process the reality. Sex with Neil was always memorable, but it has never been this intense. Especially only for an entrée.

Feeling your body relax, Neil retracted the hand and placed a final kiss on your clit with saintly reverence. You opened your eyes in time to see him look up, the dark blue irises rimmed with long dark eyelashes. Adoration. Want. Weak from the strength of that release, your legs wobbled as you tried to change position. Foot slipped on the slick tiles, and you already anticipated the fall when an arm wound around your waist, pulling you upright. Startled, you barely comprehended when he got up and saved you, making use of the smooth moves and long limbs.

“Got you,” a whisper against your temple as Neil hugged you close, cradling your body with care, “Always” his gaze met yours, tenderness overshadowing every other feeling.

On reflex, you mirrored his soft smile in an expression of gratitude. For much more than saving your ass from the bruises. Despite the maelstrom of emotions, you gave in to the gentle moment and returned the embrace, pressing your cheek against his chest. Listening to the fast, familiar heartbeat, you whispered:

“You nearly killed me just now,” the breathless tint only giving evidence to the statement.

It’s not like he wouldn’t know. With screams like those, he had to. Neil chuckled, one of his hands venturing up to cradle your head, the other tracing shapes onto your back. Water flowing down with the steady stream, enveloping your embraced bodies in comfortable warmth.

“That wasn’t the intention,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of your head.

You could hear the pleased tone there, indicating what you suspected. Following the playful thread, you leaned back enough to meet his gaze and asked:

“What was it then?” a hand running through his hair, watching the strands darken when wet.

At the roots, his natural light brown colour was beginning to show, adding a surprising edge to his startling physique. For you, that meant another evening soon spent sat on the edge of the toilet seat, laughing at his attempts at dying the hair on his own. Those were fun moments.

Catching your absent gaze, Neil tipped your chin to bring you back to the present and then grinned:

“To show you how much I adore you,” the simple answer laid with a soft kiss on your lips, signing off the sentiment.

You opened your mouth to let his tongue in instantly, breathing in the air he was willing to share and relishing in the familiarity of the moves. Lips slowly gliding over each other, tongues caressing and teasing. This one was filled with tenderness, an expression of love and devotion rather than hunger. A breather.

Not for long. Using the kiss as a distraction, you switched the positions, making sure Neil would have his back pressed against the wall. For convenience’s sake. Breaking the contact, you whispered the single-worded response:

“Mutually,” unable to wipe the devilish smirk from your face, you waited for a beat to let him catch up.

Those widening eyes were a perfect cue to grin with satisfaction at the perfectly executed setup for the payback. Neil stared back at you with confusion deepening on his face, slowly taking in the reality. Finally, a single word, a prelude to the mountain of questions:

“What-” his brow furrowed, giving you the needed moment to step in.

“Vengeance,” you winked, and wasting no time, lowered onto your knees, “Let me just… now that’s a wonderful view” shifting into the most comfortable position, you gave him a long admiring look from the new vantage point.

It really was. Never failing to make you that tiny bit more eager and hungrier since the first time. Especially when knowing what he is capable of.

The flood of specific memories flushing up your cheeks and giving needed courage to begin. You glanced up, searching for consent, and met Neil’s hazed stare. He seemed transfixed as if already well under your spell, one of his hands mirroring your desperate move from minutes prior, clinging to the tiles in search of support. You raised an eyebrow in the silent question. Yes?

Please. The fervent nod accompanied by the way he swallowed hard was all you waited for.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked your lips thoroughly, all the while using your hands to stroke him lightly. Enough to elicit a gasp. Emboldened by the reaction, you opened your mouth, letting out a warm puff of air to tease him. Neil groaned, the free hand reaching out to cup your cheek with tenderness you did not anticipate. As if distracting himself, he brushed away the damp strands of hair sticking to your face and brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. Gratitude. A signal to start.

A few kitten licks along the length, letting him get used to the sensation. Sharp exhales, muscles tensing. Upping the game, you started focusing on specific areas, using the sound cues and the way his hand tightened the hold over the nape of your neck. Now and then, you would look up to see the darkened pupils and lips parted in the purest expression of pleasure. The furrowed brow and the clouded gaze, telling you when the right time was to bring his tip into your mouth. Gently swirling your tongue around the head, savouring the taste with quiet hums. Stroking the shaft with one hand, you used the other to rake your fingernails over his abdomen. Returning the markings he inflicted earlier.

The string of curses leaving his lips amongst the moans and groans was a good indication that it worked. Noticing the hint of impatience in how he quivered, hips thrusting on an impulse, you slowly inched your mouth down his length, enveloping him as far as you could without it becoming uncomfortable. The answering loud moan told you it was exactly what he needed. Meeting his dark stare, you nodded, permitting him to start moving his hips. The adoration meeting desire in his eyes as Neil sped up. Adjusting to the pace he needed, you started sucking on him. Cheeks hollowed, tiniest of moans drawn out to let him know you enjoyed the act, tongue collecting everything he was giving, anticipating the end with a familiar heat pooling between your thighs once again. Because seeing him like this, was more exciting than you deemed possible.

Then his thrusts got sloppier, knuckles of the hand clinging to the gaps in the tiles whitening; groans replacing any other sound. Soon. Suddenly he seemed to sober up a notch, blinking twice as though forcing the brain to work and then rasping out:

“God, I’m going to-” the meaning interrupted by a whimper when you took the opportunity to increase the pressure by a notch.

You could see the ridiculous dilemma flash in the blue eyes as if he worried about something like that. As if he has not just devoured you like the god’s nectar. Certainly, an idiot. Continuing the bold strokes with your hand, you made sure to meet his gaze before echoing the encouragement:

“For me,” a hint of recognition reflected at you, adding the mischievous tint to your smile, “Please,” grinning widely, you quickly put your mouth back to the task.

Intensifying every move to make sure he would be satisfied. It did not take long. Neil moaned out your name breathlessly before he tensed and came with a shudder ripping through his body. The hand cupping your cheek fell onto your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh with the force of the release. Swallowing every drop of what he gave you with delight, you made sure to show him the extent of satisfaction in your gaze.

Once Neil was done, he leaned heavily on the tiled wall, quick breaths escaping through the parted mouth. Eyes still clouded yet watching you constantly with evident fascination. Licking your lips clean, you accepted the hand he reached out to pull you up. Resting your palm over his racing heart, you leaned in close to whisper:

“Every inch a gentleman, I see” an appreciative glance down, as if he could miss the innuendo.

His eyes flashed, the familiar darkness creeping at the edge of the blissful fatigue. To your advantage, there was still a moment left of this more subdued Neil. Afterwards? Who knows. The spark of excitement lit up in your chest as you closed the gap and took him by surprise with a heated kiss. Pushing him further up against the wall and taking the lead with your tongue instantly prodding him to open. The grip on your laced hands, tightening as Neil started reciprocating the kiss with an equal eagerness. As if you both have been starving for each other. There was never quite enough oxygen to fulfil needs, and so, after few long minutes interrupted with stolen breaths and fleeting pecks, you broke apart, staring at one another with awe. Neil’s eyes wandered over your face with almost dream-like enchantment written all over.

“Wow,” he breathed out the word with a small smile creeping on the edge of his lips.

It was difficult not to grin back, overwhelmed with love for the man. With your heart close to melting from the tenderness and softness, you chose to strike:

“Is that all the praise I’m going to receive?” quirked eyebrow and feigned dismay.

If only to push him where you needed him to be. Because as much as this gentle and affectionate side of your relationship was everything you could have asked for, currently, you needed more. More than this. Using the palm pressed firmly against his chest, you trailed your fingers south, watching with satisfaction at the tiniest of twitches, betraying the hidden desire, confirming the assumptions. As if slowly waking up from the daze, Neil caught your curious fingers in his and raised your hand to lay a kiss on your knuckles. The playful glimmer already there.

“I’m afraid you stole my breath away. Again” a shrug with an apologetic tint to the tone.

As a contradiction to the meekness acted out, he let go of your hand and wound his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Pressing your bodies against each other, every curve and edge fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. Like two halves of a whole. You glanced up at him, trying to judge the current mood, finding nothing but beauty. The wet hair, sticking to the forehead, water dripping down the slope of his nose and onto the bruised lower lip. Up this close, he looked as if he belonged in Michelangelo’s workshop, fine features chiselled with precision. Ocean blue eyes framed with long and dark eyelashes drawing you in, the longer you kept on staring. Mouth curled up in a soft smile as if even the sight of your lovesick gaze was something he wanted to commit to memory.

With a sight like that, there was only one thing you could do. Feeling the need pulse in your veins, you reached out to turn off the water. It was time to act. Neil looked at you questioningly as if willing to follow the tempo you were about to set. Biting down on your lip, you met his gaze with poise.

“Good. Because that was rather… enjoyable” lowering down your voice, you noticed how his eyes widened; using the tricks learned from Neil himself, your hand ventured down once again “I love how you taste. The way you shiver as I make you come apart” as your fingers danced along his length, he gasped, a shudder running through his body “Sculpted by the gods yet falling into pieces at my command” whispering out the punchline, you gently stroked him to elicit a groan.

A satisfying response. Feeling courage surge through your chest, you smirked, observing as he seemed to absorb your words slowly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing with effort. The pupils widened, darkening the irises and bringing out the predatory flicker. Mission accomplished. Once again, his hand darted out, stopping your teasing with fingers encircling the wrist tightly.

“You’re asking for trouble,” the husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

You met his gaze, noticing the evident change. It was bound to get interesting. Once you tasted the power, it was hard to give it back. Stepping out of the embrace, you noticed:

“Am I? I thought we’re done here” without waiting for him, you made a move to exit the shower.

Knowing he would follow. You made it as far as grabbing the towel hanging on the hook and wrapping it over your body before his strong arms encircled around you from behind. Pulling you against his chest, just as it all began. Then, a whisper with lips brushing over your ear:

“We’re far from done” oh.

Good. You barely had time to react when Neil lifted you, bridal style, and opened the bathroom door with a kick. Bewildered, you looked at him with curiosity, relishing in the way he cradled you. Possessiveness and care making your head spin with the implications. However, you barely had the time to think of the right question when he stopped abruptly by the long desk lining one side of the room and set you down on the counter. Oh. Consciously adjusting the towel covering your body, you risked a glance at Neil. The blue eyes clouded with need; pupils dilated. The taxing gaze, sweeping over your figure like a predator measuring up the prey. Stunned into silence by the sudden tension, you mirrored his look and allowed yourself a self-indulgent stare, appreciating what the universe gave you in the form of your boyfriend. And his godly body, as you have more than once noticed. Finally, Neil took a step closer. You watched in fascination as his fingers danced along your collarbones and over the skin on your shoulders, taking additional time to brush the fingertips over the forming bruises on your neck. The distant look, telling you it was an open admiration of his work. A shiver ran up your spine, the anticipation of whatever might happen almost stifling.

“All that talk made me a little hungry” the remark made you look up, straight into the marvellous blue eyes.

Confirming the words, Neil slowly licked his lips, hand toying with the end of your towel tucked in to keep it fixed. With heart racing in your chest, you made sure to throw a suggestive glance at his body before asking:

“Only a little?” the dose of provocative tone to make sure he would be within your control.

Because the level of arousal on his side was startling. Impressive, too.Your mouth watered at the sight, thighs clenching tighter together to somehow ease the ache pulsing between your legs. At once, you wanted him to ditch the games and take you this moment, and to wait, to extend the fascinating duel of passion.

Neil gave you no time to consider which one was more tempting, for he used your moment of reverie to tug at the towel to unravel it in one move.

“A lot” the answer perfecting the move with precision.

Fuck. Next thing you knew, you were sat on the towel, naked once more with no way of hiding from him and his look of starvation. Neil closed the remaining gap, blocking your escape and caging you between his arms, palms resting on either side. One last long look as if judging the best course of action before he parted your knees by inserting a leg between your thighs. A hand delving in the newly opened space, drawing out a sigh from your lips as you stared in complete fascination, frozen with the thrill of curiosity and need running through your veins. The pulsating core dripping with desire for him, shame missing from the equation when Neil finally gave in to the pull and slipped a finger between your folds. You knew how bad it was from the single look at his face. The determination slipping for a split second to give way to surprise, a short gasp soon replaced with the smirk worthy of the Lucifer himself. The daring finger parting your inner lips in a teasing move before he raised the hand to his lips, never taking the gaze of you:

“You’re still soaking wet for me,” a remark thrown with something close to mockery.

A flash of anger burning in your chest; mouth opening to prepare a retort. Only to freeze once more when Neil grinned, the hand glistening with the signs of your disgrace licked clean, mirroring your brave actions from not that long ago. Double fuck. A groan, interrupting the train of thought, that spark of irritation helping you to gain back the momentum. A look down his body offering the needed cue:

“Says you” raising one eyebrow, you reached out to repeat the lazy strokes from before.

The deepening darkness in his eyes luring you in, tempting you to push him further than ever before. If only to find out what he is like without any restraints. Without care or apprehension. Only the animalistic lust and craving left. Noticing the familiar hungry glow, you increased the intensity of your moves, smile widening when he let out a frustrated growl and slapped your hands away. In a flash, Neil wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your bodies flush against each other.

“Careful, or I might-” his voice lowered to a whisper, the husky tone reverberating through your chest.

It was the unspoken threat and the way it felt when he pressed against your navel that made you take up the initiative. Leaning back enough to catch his eye, you interrupted the sentence:

“What?” a challenging smirk to irk him further; your legs wrapped around his waist “Destroy me. Fuck me senseless” completing the request by rubbing over him openly, showing the extent of need “Wrap that hand around my neck and take what’s yours” the addition breathed out with the scarlet tint on your cheeks.

Neil let out a whine as you pressed up against him, lacing your hands on the nape of his neck to get better leverage. He hesitated for a split second, hips already responding to your teasing with fleeting twitches. Somehow you knew what was missing. Leaning back, you tilted his chin to lock the gazes. Depths of lust enveloping your mirroring looks.

“Please,” the word dropped in between your lips, separated by a breath of space.

The trigger.

You could barely perceive his actions. The bottom lip caught between his teeth, a forceful thrust eliciting a sharp cry from your throat. Gentleness was left behind as he filled you up in one single move, stretching out your walls and making you gasp. Searching for something to hold on to, you grasped the edges of the desk, helpless gaze locked on his dark eyes without a break. Neil slightly shifted, one hand travelling up your chest to wrap loosely around your neck. Exactly as you asked. The other palm, pulling you closer around the waist, finding the needed grip. A shudder coursing through your body, the core clenching around him in the most basic of reflexes. An irked sigh escaping through your lips was all he needed to begin.

No kissing or hesitation, just the rough rhythm, delving deep into your centre with each thrust, hitting the perfect spot without tenderness. Each move complemented by your moan, pleasure flooding in, making you forget about everything that was not Neil. His gaze was fixed on you, watching with visible fascination how his tip disappeared between your folds with every thrust. The chokehold, tightening a little, increasing the frenzy, and hazing your mind with need. Only once you got used to the set tempo could you shift the position, placing your hands on his biceps. Digging in the nails to show how well that was working. Increasing the intensity of his moves, Neil groaned, his hand tightened over your neck. A clear signal to let you know who is in control. Obedience. Only, you were not that keen on compliance.

With sweat trailing down your body and your arousal wetting the conveniently placed towel, you decided to reach out for more. An assessing look, taking in Neil’s widened pupils and the startling resolve painted on his face. The clenched jaw, highlighting the sharp angles. Split lip from how he bit into it, drawing out blood. Unable to take your gaze off from his mouth, you used the second of hesitation to get closer and crash your lips into his in a hard kiss. Neil gasped, surprised by the shift, opening his mouth underneath your prodding tongue in an instant. Syncing up the way your lips glided over each other with his thrusts, you used the opportunity to gain back the lead. Meeting him halfway, relishing in the groans he let out against your mouth. And then, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks, still damp from the shower, and leaning in to whisper into his ear:

“Harder,” the word dropped with certainty.

A further act of temptation. To see what Neil would be capable of if you drove him to the edge.

You did not have to wait long to find out. Tightening the chokehold, he sped up the movements, delving into you with a force that was ripping cries from your lips. The lascivious sounds filled the room, moans, and gasps interrupting the tempo. Soon it was nothing but the eruption of pleasure every time he hit the spot, making you rake your fingernails over his shoulder blades, deepening the marks and bruises. Using the grip you had over his shoulders, you changed the angle, bringing your pelvises together with every thrust. That seemed to be what Neil needed. He groaned, hand shifting from its position on your neck to grasp your chin and force you to lock the gazes. The feral look in his eyes, making you clench your muscles around him, giving in to the waves of feelings coursing through your body. It was that perfect balance between tempting darkness and astonishing want that you found reflected that was the final push you both needed.

Neil’s tempo waned, shuddered breaths coming out through the parted lips, watching you closely as if the ecstasy written all over your face was a drug he could not get enough of. A string of curses replacing the silence with their harsh simplicity. The grip over your waist tightening, fingers digging into your skin, bruises confirming the facts. His. Just as he tensed, moaning your name with the desperate tint to the tone, you captured his lips in a kiss. Hoping to take the edge off, to give him what he needs. Neil responded by biting hard into your lower lip, pleasure exploding before your closed eyes as he came, a shudder running through his body. Cradling you closer, breaking through the roughness and betraying the underlying feelings. Love, want, need.

It was the sensation of having him come inside you and the harsh kiss that did it. You whimpered, his name and love confessions on the tip of your tongue, spilling out in the silence. Hiding face in his neck, you stiffened, the force of the orgasm ripping through the fracture of reality. Nothing but the overwhelming euphoria, darkness underneath your eyelids dotted with stars. Neil’s skin underneath the shaking hands. His warmth enveloping you in the gilded cage of safety. Completeness. As you came to, riding out the high with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, you heard his soothing voice whispering sweet nothings, nuzzling your head. The tender ‘I got you’ and ‘I love you’ filling the quiet moment with reminders about your perfect reality. With a sigh, you slowly unravelled from the embrace; arms still wound around his body to prolong the touch. As your gazes met, the previous darkness was nowhere to be found, replaced with a soft smile and affection pouring out of his blue eyes. Cupping your cheek, Neil whispered the question:

“Alright?” he searched your face as though worried something could be amiss.

Fighting with the breathlessness, you chose to give him a grin first before responding:

“Yeah,” trailing your fingers down his chest, relishing in the peaceful moment, “Christ… You should fuck me like this more often,” the straightforwardness getting out without a hitch.

After what just happened, it was no big surprise. Neil did not seem shocked either his eyes glimmered playfully, as he traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his finger:

“Your wish is my command, darling,” the low murmur complimented with hand tilting your chin upwards to capture your lips in a kiss.

A slow and gentle one, softening the bruises and cuts, eliciting a contented sigh from your throat. Afterwards, you rested your forehead against his for a split second, soaking in the feelings. After a beat, you finally leaned back, acknowledging the mess on the hotel room floor covered with your clothes. The bathroom door was left ajar with the ventilation running. The towel you sat on, ruined. Wet hair trailing droplets down your naked body, mixing with the layer of sweat. A frown invited itself onto your face.

“I need another shower though… and a nap” yawning, you pushed Neil back to jump off the desk.

Only once you could properly stand, the fatigue caught up, making you sway on your feet. Without a word, Neil reached out a hand to steady you, pulling you into his side for an additional hug. Nothing to complain about even if you wanted.

“I should get you hot and bothered more often” it was the casual remark that made you look up.

Straight into the suspiciously satisfied face of your boyfriend. Surely not… right?

“… was that the plan all along?” schooling your features, you chose to ask the simplest of questions.

Neil shrugged, the trademark smirk gracing his features.

Bastard. Stepping away from him, you snatched the towel and hastily wrapped it around your body. If only as a retaliation. Because dragging you out to wander in the bloody scorching sun was a low blow. …even if it just gave you one of the best sex experiences in your life. Maybe. Perhaps.

“I hate you,” you hissed before storming over the pile of clothes to the bathroom.

“Uh-huh,” you refused to give him the pleasure of turning around at the sound.

Bastard. Squared.

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