#his sleep schedule is apparently even worse than mine

[gorbalsvampire]

The Longest Night

The nights are drawing in. Which has its drawbacks, like only seeing daylight through a window and freezing my tits off unless I get a lift home after class, but it has its advantages. Like overlapping sleep schedules finally getting to meet in the middle.

Dorian’s up when I come home, and with a student — last one of the year, I hope. I can hear them as I come up the stairs, some notes falling pretty-OK-by-my-old-standards, which is why I know it’s a student, because by my new standards, it’s not flawless and I know it’s not Dorian.

So I walk down the hall and take off my shoes by undoing the laces, like a civilised human being, and don’t just kick ‘em off and punt ‘em ahead of me like usual, and I let myself into the kitchenette through the other door, and I fix myself a cold drink even though I’m dying for something hot. Cohabitation is a million little sacrifices, day by day. But I sit there and I drink my juice and I can’t help but smile as they play on together, more familiar and confident fingers taking the lead, sketching the shape of the song with ninety years of practiced confidence, then backing off to let their student try and fill in the colour.

It’s still late. I zone out a little, and I don’t hear the doors click and swing, and I never hear Dorian walking unless they want to be heard. The next thing I know, D’s arms are burrowed under mine and they’re hugging me from the back.

“Thank you,” they say, and I wriggle around and take advantage of dating a shortass, planting a kiss on their forehead, just under their hairline. It’s cold, but after a walk in the dark at the ass end of December, so am I. “Rough day at the office?”

“’Tis the season of goodwill to all men,” I say back, “which does not extend to the girl behind the counter, apparently.”

“People can be so awful,” they tell me, giving a little tch of a breath. I must look worse than I think I do, because they squint up at me through those round dorky frames and say: “Sit thee down and tell me all thy troubles, darling.”

I flop down on the armchair facing the window and, while they fuss about in the kitchen, clattering about looking for the samovar and making everything just so, I let out the top twenty per cent of what’s hacking me off, starting with the racist sack of shit who’d insisted I’d bitched her out in ‘Paki’ — and it’s the laziness that really hurts, like she didn’t care enough to tell brown people apart — and working down my naughty list.

By the fourth entry, D’s sitting in my lap and stroking my hair and nodding at every “and another thing”, and when I’m done with the guy who spent ten minutes asking who owned the people who made everything on the shelves and didn’t even spend folding money, they nuzzle into my neck, just under the jaw on the left hand side, which is like an invisible switch that makes me lose all motor control, power of speech and basic dignity in one go.

“Better?” asks D, and I say something like “magurglesnorf” and then “you bastard” and then “a bit.” And then, because I am a good girlfriend, despite the rumours, I realise what’s going on here.

“You’ve not had breakfast, have you?”

“Stefan’s been for his jabs, so I told him cash was fine.”

“You’re a beastly little parasite,” I say, trying to pitch it like they do, that airy-fairy old-young lilt.

“I’ll make you dinner. Poulet yassa. Cross my heart.” Their tongue flickers across their lips, their front teeth, and my neck’s still tingling from a moment ago and I’m not quite as tired as I thought I was, not any more.

“… I stand by what I just said,” I say, “but I love you for it.”

And Dorian nuzzles into my neck again, meticulously kissing back and forth, two little pinpricks probing for a safe spot, and I shut my eyes and brace myself for a cool sharp scratch that makes me shiver right down to my bones.

They don’t take much. A juice box or so’s worth. A love bite that leaves a bruise — I’ll have to wear a high collar tomorrow — and a little cut that’ll be closed by midnight. Dorian rocks back and forth on my lap, kisses my throat again, and whispers another “thank you” into my ear.

Like I said. A million little sacrifices. But it’s worth it.

it's PWYW and my rent's due in a week. just sayin'.

[lightandwinged]

It’s been a hot minute since I said anything about my life on here bc people just... haven’t been around? I guess? Or maybe I haven’t felt the need to, I don’t know. BUT there are important updates, and I can break them down into three categories:

1. I’m sterile, but this time, it’s on purpose.

2. I have an official diagnosis of fibromyalgia.

3. I’m going to fight God in a Wendy’s parking lot.

Sterility-wise: after Roe got undone in June, I decided that even though the odds of me getting accidentally pregnant are very small, I wanted to make those odds zero. My health is Very Not Good (more on that in a minute), and while emotionally, I’d love to have a fourth kid, it’s just not practical right now. And I didn’t want anyone to control whether or not that happens but me.

So I called my OB-GYN, the one who took care of me through both of my pregnancies, and on October 3, I officially had a bilateral salpingectomy, meaning that my fallopian tubes no longer exist. Ideally, I would’ve kept them in a jar of ether or something for Maximum Creepiness, but that’s also not practical with three kids (two of whom are four-year-old twins), so instead, they were shipped off to pathology and then discarded as medical waste. Before, I couldn’t get pregnant because my body was just a dick. It was still a possibility, but a remote one. Now, though, this one thing is completely in my hands. If I really do want to be pregnant, if Kyle and I decide at some point that we want one or two or six more kids, we’ve got six embryos in storage.

But for now: my body is mine and mine alone. Nobody gets to decide who lives here but me. And that feels really fucking good.

Fibro-wise: about two years ago, I dealt with a major spine injury. Nothing paralyzing, nothing severe, but it left me with permanent nerve damage in my left leg and sent me to the ER in excruciating pain on Thanksgiving Day (definitely my worst Thanksgiving, 0/10, I want a refund). Calling it traumatic is severely understating the matter; any time I feel the slightest twinge in my back or left side nowadays, I have to talk myself down from panicking that it’s starting all over again.

Worse, I couldn’t get any of it treated because of insurance bullshit. Kyle’s company laid him off around the beginning of the pandemic, and then his new job laid him off exactly a week before I was due to have the surgery that would have solved my issue entirely. I lost my insurance, and the hospital didn’t want to accidentally have me foot the bill for it, so the surgery got put off and put off and canceled. By the time Kyle found his current (and very excellent) job and got on their insurance, the spine issue had technically resolved itself, but not before leaving me with zero feeling in a lot of areas of my left leg and with a foot that likes to cramp up randomly because it’s a little slow to get the nerve signals that it’s time to move a certain way. It’s awesome.

Shortly after the injury itself, I found myself getting really tired, really easily. I was also in a lot more pain than usual, and all the doctors I saw had different thoughts about what was causing it. I saw a sleep therapist and got on a CPAP, but her diagnosis was ultimately “bad at sleep schedule.” I talked to my primary, but her diagnosis was something along the lines of “fat also drinks soda.” BUT to my primary’s credit, she did get me a referral to a rheumatologist (even though she said, “it’s probably your diet. Have you considered cutting out carbs?”).

The rheumatologist did easily one of the more painful examinations of my life. She poked and prodded and pushed and pressed, and when it was all said and done, I’d apparently demonstrated pain in all of the areas necessary for a fibromyalgia diagnosis.

Fibromyalgia, essentially, is a disorder of the nerves. It typically happens after a physical or mental trauma, and it results in the brain misinterpreting every signal sent to it by every nerve as pain.There are a whole bunch of therapies available--some with more evidence behind them than others, some more accessible than others--but there’s no cure. It’s essentially a diagnosis of “you can do things to make things a little easier on yourself, but as of now, you’re going to be in pain the rest of your life.”

Which is neat.

So I’ve been processing that. On practical levels, I feel somewhat like I’ve been given permission to give myself a small break. No, I can’t do the things that I used to do, but I also didn’t used to have this condition that makes my everything hurt all the time and, gloriously, makes it so that NSAIDs and other pain relievers are more sugar pills than anything else. I don’t beat myself up as badly anymore when I look around at my messy house because I’m like... okay, it’s not just having twins and depression and no time. It’s having twins and depression and no time AND EVERYTHING FUCKING HURTS. And in that vein, too, I don’t feel terribly bad about renting a wheelchair for our Disney trip later this year OR about ordering a handicap placard from the state.

There’s also some vindication in that fibromyalgia isn’t caused or worsened by a lot of things that you, personally, can do. It can get easier to bear with exercise (essentially, you’re pointing out to your brain that pain is not the correct sensation here, so we can still walk and function), but it affects people of all walks of life in roughly the same way. It’s annoying as fuck, but I feel vindicated that no, this is not my fault.

BUT the biggest emotion is just... grief, I guess. Something is fucked up about my body, and it’s not a fixable thing at this point in time. I can do a lot by myself, but there’s also a lot I can’t do by myself, and that leaves me more than a little dependent on my family and friends for everything, and I do not like that. I was hoping that when the doctor checked me out, she’d say that I had RA or OA or something that’s inflammatory because at least then, I could look into anti-inflammatory treatments, but no. This is a pain disorder where anything inflammatory-related is completely irrelevant.

And I’m mourning because I hoped that it was something that I could easily reduce the pain about. There are nights I can’t sleep because I’m so uncomfortable and there are days when I can’t write or use my computer because my fingers hurt so much. And I’m moving into a treatment plan (after we get back from Disney because I literally do not have time for anything right now), but it’s still like. Ugh. UGH.

I feel unworthy of anyone. I’ve been flirting a lot more lately, and I’ve been pursuing some things casually, but I also feel like there’s never a real chance for anyone who doesn’t already love me to love me because I’m pretty damaged goods. And YES I know this is not intellectually honest of me and that I wouldn’t even dream of saying those things to someone else I know dealing with this, but it’s not always easy to turn off that spiral when it starts.

Which leads me to...

Fighting God: Ages and ages ago, I wrote a big long treatise here about my religious history, but the tl;dr is that I’m nonreligious/vaguely witchy. I’m a pastor’s kid, grew up all gung-ho about the whole thing, but gradually, it all slipped away. I was content with that, and up until recently, I wasn’t really mad about anything with the church because, hey, not my thing but whatever. At worst, following 2016, I was kind of :| at all the people in my life who weren’t considering how their actions affect others, but I was willing to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Not anymore.

In late August, I lost someone to cancer. He was someone who meant a lot to me for most of my life, and we met through church theater things. In a way, he was a sort of last tie back to that life--I built an imaginary life around him when I was a teenager, loved him like crazy. They say that you truly become an adult when you realize who “Landslide” is about for you, and for me, it was about him.

Anyway, he died of cancer, which is awful in and of itself. The church that we’d both been part of had this big fucking spectacle planned around his death and were thanking God for his death in the “at least he’s not in pain anymore” sense, which I found kind of sick. Like God put the goddamn tumor there, why would you thank God for literally any of the situation?

But THEN I found out that he had refused conventional treatment in favor of alternative bullshit, like he wanted some sort of miraculous “and then I had my scan and the cancer was just GONE and the doctors couldn’t explain it!” cure or he was anti-science or whatever the fuck. He refused conventional treatment until this past summer, and then he had surgery and it became apparent that, no, God had not chosen to do things bombastically, but by that point, it was too late. He died of a cancer that could have been easily fixed, had it not been for his faith, and that disgusts me.

Add my fibro diagnosis to that--because it’s treatable but not fixable--and I am very put out with God in general. And yes, we can obviously go into volumes of bullshit the church does anyway that I’ve always hated, and I’ve never been happy about any of it, but now I’m fucking pissed. Anti-Christian, anti-god, anti-whatever. And maybe that’s 3edgy5me, but anger is part of the grieving process, and I’m enjoying it far more than I enjoy when the anger fades for a minute and I can’t do anything but sit there and cry.

(yes, I am seeing my therapist about this, and we’re working through it, slowly but surely)

So there we go. My update. I’ll post pictures of the kids later.

[hotwings0203]

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

[palbabor-writes]

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός   ther·​mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating. 

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper. 

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic. 

It’s Toga. 

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks. 

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text. 

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well. 

Hmm, well this is something, at least. 

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C. 

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

 Fuck. 

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths. 

There is a heat advisory today. 

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good. 

Wishful thinking on his part. 

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all. 

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move. 

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner. 

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him. 

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down. 

You were out of town. 

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv. 

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment. 

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you. 

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too. 

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to. 

You’re gone for the better part of a week. 

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name? 

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies? 

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days. 

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you? 

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in. 

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets. 

You’ve got a nice smell. 

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now. 

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him. 

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours. 

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin. 

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance. 

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face. 

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly. 

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that. 

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo. 

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile. 

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation. 

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view. 

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head. 

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach. 

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his. 

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do. 

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes. 

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep? 

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm. 

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window. 

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them. 

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it. 

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you. 

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking. 

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now. 

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter. 

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl. 

There’s fuck all happening. 

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting. 

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.” 

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth. 

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind. 

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him. 

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close. 

He’s never been this close to you. 

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another. 

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him. 

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

 When he wakes again, you’re gone. 

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper. 

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.” 

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now. 

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed. 

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him. 

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching. 

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance. 

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down. 

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer. 

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals. 

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine. 

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress. 

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you. 

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar. 

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.  

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention. 

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display. 

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.” 

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night. 

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought. 

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front. 

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss? 

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice. 

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up. 

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright. 

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse. 

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.” 

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good. 

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in. 

Not without you. 

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him. 

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you. 

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time. 

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex. 

That sounds better than saying what he really wants. 

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it. 

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him. 

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him. 

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down. 

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face. 

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find. 

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw. 

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard. 

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin. 

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you. 

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.” 

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm. 

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness. 

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs. 

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you. 

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings. 

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress. 

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions. 

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close. 

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.  

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves. 

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air. 

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him. 

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt. 

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him. 

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist. 

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big. 

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.  

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?” 

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him. 

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds. 

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts. 

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.” 

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back. 

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully. 

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more. 

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions. 

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out. 

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots. 

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.” 

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes. 

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet. 

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution. 

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs. 

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets. 

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind. 

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°  

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

[joshslater]

Quarantine & VR

5500-word story, so I used the Keep Reading feature for once. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Are you sure you’re OK with this?”

We were slowly driving through an eerily empty city center from my student flat next to campus on one side of town to Ethan’s flat on the other, with all my belongings stuffed in the back of the U-Haul. Not that I had so much stuff we needed one. I just moved into the state right before the semester started, but it was the cheapest rental we could get. No one is going anywhere with this lockdown in effect. We barely had time to read the syllabus before everything screeched to a halt. You thought we’d know by now how to handle pandemics, but nooo.

“I wouldn’t have helped you clear out your shit if I wasn’t. Bit late to ask now.” “Yeah, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.”

Ethan turned towards me and spoke with a more serious tone. “I’m really happy to have you stay at my place. I think I would go mad staying alone. Go mad or go home, and I don’t think being locked up with the parents would be better.”

He was about as new in the city as I was, but his aunt had moved out of an old apartment last year and his parents had decided to take over the lease. Apparently it was even cheaper than the student apartments and much larger, but further away from campus. Though where it was in the city didn’t really matter as long as this lockdown was going on.

“Someone else is out at least”, I said indicating out the window. Across the street, a police officer with a navy blue face mask followed our truck with his eyes. Or her eyes I guess. Hard to tell in uniform and mask. I don’t know why, but I found it a rather good look. I hate the flimsy paper masks, but these form-fitted ones kind of make you look more badass.

“Do you think he looks sexy like that?” he asked, as if he had the same thought. “It’s a bit dystopian sci-fi, but that’s not to say it doesn’t look good.” “Take next right. The one after is one way.”

The apartment had two bedrooms, a large living room, decent bathroom and kitchen. Ethan’s aunt had left some furniture, but overall there wasn’t that much stuff. Makes sense as he had barely been here a month. That’s how he had a sparsely furnished extra bedroom for me to use. This was only the second time I had been in the apartment. Ethan forced me to have a look in person before he allowed me to agree to stay with him. Now standing there with all my belongings in the truck outside and my student flat lease canceled, I realized we really didn’t know each other. I studied corporate finance and he medical computer science, whatever that meant. When I asked he tried to explain that almost everything in a hospital now has a computer in it, and a ton of work went into things like volumetric renderings of MRI scans and somewhere there I started to tune him out.

There really weren’t any overlapping circles between us, we studied completely different subjects, he was active in computer games and health, I was trying to get into the writing room of the student theatre company and looking to sign up in the cinema club. But both of us had the bright idea to start working in the student pub, and really hit it off during the start of school year party they threw for their workers. We decided to pick the same work schedule and found out we have the same taste in pop culture, music, books, movies.

And now I’m moving in with him.

He had the larger of the bedrooms with a queen-size bed in the middle, a desk with a few computers and screens set up, gaming computer chair, a reading chair. Basically his room was set up so he could live there except for visits to the kitchen and bathroom. My room didn’t have a desk, but a normal bed, an armchair that looked comfortable, and more wardrobe space than I would ever need. He told me that I could basically consider the living room as mine as well. It had two couches in front of a big flat screen. By the balcony door stood a workout bench and weights. Barbell, plates, dumbbells, and that kind of stuff. Apparently it wasn’t Ethan’s but his uncle’s, but that didn’t really make a difference here and now.

Moving my stuff only took a few runs up the stairs, so we were soon back in the truck, returning it to the rental place. Ethan really didn’t have to come with me, but he said that this would probably be the last adventure for a while, and decided to come along.

“You’re supposed to buy pizza and beer for everyone who helps you move, right? What do you fancy?” “I’d like… You know what? We’re not going to get out much, and you don’t look like someone on a strict diet. Oh, no offense!” “None taken.” “How about we both keep healthy macros and workout regimen while locked up. Instead of paying rent you can help me make sure I at least isn’t in worse shape when all this shit ends.” “Macros?” “Diet.” “Sure I can do that, if you show me what to do.” “It’s a deal then. I’d like one with Gorgonzola and ham.” “Come again?” “The pizza topping. I’m allowed one cheat day per pandemic.”

The pizza place was only a block away from the apartment. Just this one time it was great, as we walked back with one quattro formaggi and one bresaola. But it would be so much harder to eat whatever Ethan had in his plans knowing a real wood fire oven pizza was just four minutes walk away.

Unprompted Ethan started to tell his story over pizza. How his father was a successful businessman in Arkansas, but his hometown always felt too small for him. He talked about how he was making synth music in school. How that made him interested in computers. How, since it was such a small town, he had ended up on the football team without any desire or skill to actually play the game. How he had almost by accident found this education program and had looked forward to both leave Arkansas and to study. I too did a year be year recap of my life so far, up to how my girlfriend dumped me just before the summer. In a way that was lucky, because it made me feel free from obligations and actually do what I wanted.

It was 9:21 when I woke up from a knock on the door. I was a bit disoriented for a second until I remembered where I was. I was sleeping in the guest bed left by Ethan’s aunt. After the pizza we did continue to talk over beer all evening, but I didn’t feel any hangover. Just thirsty. It wasn’t that early in the morning anymore on the other hand. “Yep” I called out. “I’m making breakfast,” Ethan called out from the other side of the door. “Coming”.

It literally only took me seconds to get ready. Stand up. Sweatpants. T-shirt. Done. In the kitchen I saw Ethan had a similar fashion sense, but had gone for shorts instead. “Porridge is fine with you? It would be good if it is. Lots of fibers.” I couldn’t really recall if I liked porridge and told him as much. The porridge itself didn’t taste much, but with toppings I could get used to it. “With our schedule in our own hands I think it would be a good idea to start out with breakfast and work out. That way we can get it out of the way.” Sounded sensible enough.

I changed into shorts as well and made myself ready to do my part of becoming Ethan’s gym buddy. At a quick glance we didn’t look that different, Ethan and I. On one hand I never had that big of an appetite, but on the other I had never really done any sports, and had no gym experience, so I let Ethan guide me. He tested different motions and how many times I could do them with weights he selected and noted down the results in a notebook that would log my progress. It wasn’t at all as tiring as I thought it would be. “Oh, you’ll feel it tomorrow for sure.” We each took a shower, and I went back to my room to catch up on my reading.

A few hours later I was starting to think about lunch. More because I was getting tired of reading than actually being hungry, but I thought I should ask Ethan if he had a plan. The door to his room was open, but as I got closer it became apparent it was an oversight on his part. Splayed on the bed was Ethan, naked save for a pair of boxer shorts and a big VR goggles. His right hand was massaging his obviously erect dick through the fabric of his underwear. He must have followed his normal routine and forgotten I had moved in. I’m not a prude and do the occasional tug myself, like any student, so I was more embarrassed than shocked. As on autopilot, my mind decided to ignore Ethan and continue walking to the kitchen to assess the lunch situation, but another part of my brain decided to keep him in sight.

Walking without watching in an apartment I’ve been in for all of 18 hours predictably made me jam my toe into the door frame. In the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s body spasm and ripping off his VR goggles as I yell out in pain and surprise. He stared right at me, eyes wide open and mouth ajar in an expression that was hard to read. Surprise for sure, but also something else in between horror and delight. Perhaps it was like the smiles and laughter after you have completely made a fool of yourself. My eyes were drawn to his, and I could feel my face twisted in pain. It was like time stood still, waiting for either of us to make the next move. Out of sheer momentum my mind continued ahead as if nothing had changed and blurted out “What’s your plan for lunch?” over whatever Ethan said at the same time.

“What?” and an awkward pause again. “I said would you like to try?” “I… What is it?”

Ethan put down the VR kit on the bed, quickly got up and stepped into his pair of shorts. His erection was still very much apparent. He pressed escape on one of the keyboards and the screen switched from one incomprehensible menu to another.

“It’s a virtual reality system. I’m using an open source environment system to render inputs from an interactive story engine controlled by a GAN AI system. I’ve been experimenting with regenerative NLP feedback loop plugins for it.” “I followed you all the way up to and including virtual reality system.” “It’s like a VR movie that is generated specifically for you. Here.”

He picked up the bulky goggles and held it out to me. It wasn’t just goggles, but a pair of headphones were built in, and there were a few additional sensors glued on. Hesitantly, and with a throbbing toe, I stepped forward and took the headset. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked. I put it on my head and as it settled into place a digital version of Ethan’s room wobbled into place as well. It was remarkably similar. The colors and patterns were all slightly wrong, but the layout of the room and placement of furniture was almost spot on. I assume he had measured everything at one point and put in the data somehow.

“Go lie on the bed.” Ethan told me. I very tentatively stepped towards the bed, and feeling my way there. It was somehow surprised to find a bed where the digital bed was, and although the visuals of the sheets didn’t quite line up with what I felt, if you just moved quick enough the illusion of actually being in the digital room felt very real.

“This is so weird.” “I’ll start a blank session for you.” “A what?”

Almost immediately a guy entered the room through the door frame. This must be some VR video recording or something because he looked completely real. About the same age as Ethan and I but more fit and, I’ll admit, better looking. He looked flush and sweaty, with his french crop unkempt as if he had just ruffled it. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt and sweatpant shorts. I couldn’t see further down from my position. “Fuck, that was so dope! I love getting pump like that, you know what I’m saying” He was stretching his arms in different ways. Then he zoned in on me, like he was actually looking me over. “Fuck, I love how you look, babe. Mind if I join?” I shake my head slowly. He breaks out in a big smile. I notice he has a bit of a sweatpants boner. Carefully he climbs into bed, next to me. There’s no vibrations of course, or heat or smell, but everything I see looks utterly convincing.

“Hey, are you OK?” “What the…”

I’m looking into Ethan’s face as he stands over me. Bewildered I pat my head.

“I removed it once the program stopped. Didn’t shake you from your sleep one bit. I guess it wasn’t that interesting for you.” “It was very convincing. I fell asleep?” “Perhaps moving stressed you more than you knew? Or it could just be, you know, how shit the world is right now.” “Fuck… I only wanted to ask about lunch.” “A bit late for that. It’s like four and something. Let’s wait an hour or two more and have dinner. Ok with you?” “Sounds dope.”

It was like neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened. I certainly had questions. Had I just fallen asleep like that? Perhaps he was right and I had been anxious about the move and how things would work out. And what was up with that program? It wasn’t gay, exactly, and it didn’t mean Ethan was gay, and if he was there wasn’t anything wrong with that. All of it was just so confusing. Perhaps Ethan was right to just pretend it didn’t happen. Poor guy. I walked in on him watching porn, and then I fell asleep when he tried to show his system. Watching the news on how ever more countries were shutting down was probably time better spent.

He had not joked about being sore in the morning. I woke earlier than in weeks feeling stiff as hell. I didn’t want to wake Ethan, but I couldn’t just lie there in agony, so I got up and did some bodyweight repetitions. Squats, push-ups, dips, and stuff like that just to get some blood flowing. It honestly felt great. Me doing morning gymnastics! Who would have guessed that a week ago? When I left my room I found out Ethan was already up, but didn’t want to wake me up.

“Dude, we need to sort that shit out. I’m ok with you making noise when you’re up. You live here.” “You live here too. What if whoever gets up first makes breakfast and wakes the other up.” “Yeah, dope. I’m down with that.”

We quickly worked out the kinks in our schedule. I would typically wake up first, do a quick workout routine in my room. Then set the breakfast and wake up Ethan. Then we would do workout together. We had different weights and number of reps, but we had very quickly settled on the same exercises, though Ethan was still adjusting my form ever so often. Ethan would then shower first while I did stretches. We then kept to ourselves until lunch. Ethan cooked for both of us. Depending on what we felt like and needed we would either go back to study or do something like shopping or that kind of stuff in the afternoon.

It was hard to keep track of time, but I think it was on a Sunday four weeks later when Ethan said during breakfast that he wanted to show me something he had worked on. He moved the workout bench and the barbell stuff to just outside his room and told me to lie down. The bar had no plates on it, and that’s how I’ve used it until two days ago when I started to add extra weight to it. Ethan emerged out of his room with the VR set in hand, and a trail of cables running in into one of his computers. “Here, give this a go.”

I was a bit surprised, given the last time, but I was also curious what he had to show. Once snugly fitted on my head I was transported into a real gym. It wasn’t a very large one, but a few people did their thing around me. He almost scared me, the guy with the french crop, when he called out “Hey, bro!” just to my left. He had the same navy blue sweatpant shorts as the last time, but his upper body was bare, glistening muscles. He took a step back and his eyes were scanning me up and down. “Dude, you look so fucking good! You’ve really been hitting the weights.” I smiled and immediately realized that I was smiling at an avatar that wasn’t actually there and couldn’t see me, but it’s amazing how good some positive reinforcement feels, even if it is from a program. Perhaps that was the surprise from Ethan.

“Here, show me what you got!”

He walked around me, through the couch I knew was there in the real room, and stood behind me. I leaned back fully on the bench and looked up. He stood over me, just behind my head, so all I saw was a navy blue bulge, some abs and pecs, and his face looking down on me. “Go on, I’ve got you.” I could somehow feel him standing over me. Was Ethan spotting me in the real world? Not that it matters with an empty bar. I grabbed it. It felt heavy. “Good. Give me 15.” He started counting as I lifted. “Slower on the way down. Keep control all the way. Ten more” As I was getting to fifteen he upped it a bit. “Come one! Five more!” As I sat the bar back I felt utterly exhausted. “Fucking awesome, dude!”

“You really went all out.” “What?”

I was lying on the workout bench but I wasn’t wearing any VR shit. I sat up and hit my head in the barbell.

“Fuck! Dude, what the hell!” “The idea was for it to be motivational, but you really took it to heart.” “It was fucking dope, bro. I’m so pumped. Guy was kind of cute too.” “You think?” “Fuck, yeah. I wish I had those pecs.” “You better start some supplements then, if you can’t even last a virtual session.” “What you mean, dude?” “It’s already lunch.” “Fuck dammit!”

I rubbed my head where I had hit it and looked around the room. It looked mostly like before, but the sun had clearly moved ahead. Fuck, I really felt pumped to get some reps in hard and really make a difference. Perhaps lunch, and then do my daily sets.

“You ok with shopping without me after lunch?” “Sure. You need anything?” “I… You said supplements.”

Fortunately for me I have a roommate that studies medicine, kind of. Well, he hasn’t actually gone to any of the classes yet, but he has the books, so he picked out some things for me to boost me. Some of it looked like medicine, in small plastic jars with scientific-sounding names that could just as well have been a frat house. Alpha-omega-manganese-BS-whatever. Some of it decidedly did not look like medicine. Enormous containers with lids that looked too fucking small, with names like amazing-gainz-ultra. He set up a regimen for me to follow, basically some stuff with every meal. I started right away that evening with something like a vanilla and chalk milkshake after dinner. I don’t know why, but something made me feel really good drinking it.

I slept fucking fantastic, and despite having done way more lifting the day before than ever I barely felt any soreness or anything. I probably woke up Ethan with my harder than normal pre-breakfast cardio. Lots of burpees and jumping jacks, so I almost felt guilty making breakfast while steaming sweaty, but whatever. Ethan had to remind me what supplements to take. I really should have written that shit down.

I had a strong deja vu while doing weights. It wasn’t until Ethan spotted barbell for me I realized that this was almost exactly what I had seen doing the VR shit. I looked up and saw Ethan standing over me similar to the guy, but Ethan was wearing grey sweatpant shorts and a red tank. I kind of wished he was topless as well, like the other guy.

“You ok down there?” “Fucking dope, bro”

I realized I must have zoned out a bit. What’s worse I could feel I rocked a hard erection out of nowhere. Rather than making a deal out of it, and run to the shower, I decided to pretend like everything is normal. Guys get boners all the times. He’s a guy, so he knows that. I even did a few extra exercises to really drive home that point. While Ethan took his shower I dared to lower my shorts and slowly stroke my dick. I haven’t cummed once since moving in with Ethan, which I realized was longer than I’ve gone in years. The days were blurring together. I hadn’t watched porn either since moving in. I’ve been too preoccupied with the move and everything else going on.

“All yours” Ethan said and closed the door to his room. I just froze. I was sitting on the workout bench, shorts by my ankles and dick in hand. He saw that. There is no way he didn’t see that. I could feel my face getting hot by embarrassment, yet I continued to sit there and stroke my dick. What the fuck is wrong with me. My mind flashed to Ethan, to the guy in the VR, to his bulge just above my eyes, to his abs to the barbell, to the free weights.

No. I got up and took a long shower, trying really hard to not think about anything. Just observing the tiles, the shampoo bottles, the soap. But there were the creeping thoughts that perhaps Ethan will find me a weird creep and kick me out. How would he do it? He’s been far too nice to be direct. Would he bring up this incident or would he just wait a week or something and over one lunch say something vague like we are not as good of a match as he hoped? Fuck. I needed to do something.

I couldn’t concentrate at all on the block on taxation I was supposed to read. Apart from the residual thoughts of unease I was beginning to see what a mistake it was to not cum in the shower. I was very close to surfing porn sites, but decided against it and ended up aimlessly browsing social media. I can’t really explain how, a hundred clicks that trended in that direction perhaps, but I got into the circles of fitness instagram people. Big arms, broad chests, and slinky stringers. Somehow I was hard again. Stealthily I walked back to the bathroom, locked the door, and started to jerk off in the shower. I’d been saving for a week and been hot all day, but somehow it took quite a while to shoot the load. My mind was a soup of barbells, Ethan, sweatpant shorts, vague old porn clips, and more recent instagram models. When I finally came it was like I’ve never orgasmed before in my life. Rope after rope shot out of me, the first few even hit the wall, and my hips involuntary thrust forward for each of them. I felt cleansed in a way, like a weight had been lifted from me. I couldn’t really understand why, though. Nothing had really changed.

I didn’t want to go back to my room and study. I rinsed the shower, got a pad and a pen, and went to the kitchen to get on top of the supplements. I decided to write down all the ingredients from the labels. I had just accepted Ethan’s plan uncritically. It’s probably fine, but I wanted to understand it. That’s where Ethan found me.

“Hey, dude. Already hungry?” “Yeah… No… I don’t know, bro.” “You don’t know?” “It’s like… Fuck. You saw, bro.” “Saw what? You jerking off?” He laughed and sat down. “You saw me doing it first.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t know how that could have slipped my mind.

“Was it porn?” I didn’t know why I asked that. I was curious, but it also felt a bit too personal of a question. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

Before I even had time to respond he continued “Let’s fill up your macros first and then I can show you. If past experiences are any indications you’ll take your time.” “Already jacked off today.” Why did I tell him that? “Even better”

Ethan had this ever changing dish where he would chop and fry vegetables like bell pepper, chili, garlic, ginger, onion, peas, and whatever else was around, pour in coconut milk and whatever spices you craved that day green curry or red curry for Thai, madras curry for Indian, Soy and miso for Japanese, anise and szechuan for Chinese, saffron and parmesan for Italian, and so on. Then serve it with pasta or grains or rice. I helped him prepare it, as I always do unless he started making it without telling me. This time however the air was different, filled with tension and awkward anticipation. He made it with chicken, lemon grass, and brown rice this time. We hardly spoke a word while cooking, and then continued to eat in silence. We both knew what was on my mind, and there wasn’t any question on the subject that wouldn’t be awkward. I was weirdly looking forward to trying out whatever it was he wanted me to try. I couldn’t explain why it felt so compelling to me. Just thinking about it made me hard. “You clean up here and I’ll go and set it up for you,” he said as soon as his plate was empty. “Yeah,” was all I could manage, and he left. I finished my plate as well, put the few things we’ve used in the dishwasher and went to his room.

His bed was made and on it was the VR headset and what I first though was a protein drink shaker. “Dude, is that a… fleshlight?” I asked him both with incredulity and genuine curiosity. Curiosity because a cable ran from it to one of the boxes on the floor that connected to his computers, and incredulity because I couldn’t believe he thought I would use one of his sex toys.

“Yes. No. Not exactly. It’s modified to connect into the haptic subsystem.” “Haptic?” “Force feedback” “It’s a vibrator, bro.” “Eh.. No. Well, not only. You’ll see.” “Why do you think I’d touch that, bro?” Though somewhere inside I knew I would. “It’s a brand new inset. You’ll be fine.”

I walked up to the bed and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. I would need to at least lower my shorts and boxers to get the until-recently-fleshlight on my dick, but Ethan was still in the room. Not only in the room but almost studying me like a lab project.

“I’ll lie down?” “Got to strip first,” he said motioning towards my tenting shorts. He saw me hesitated and continued “Dude, I just saw you jerk off in the living room this morning”. I blushed and pulled down my shorts and boxers, and stepped out of them. “Shirt too,” he said. I removed that as well and stood naked in front of him. “Wow, you are making progress. Ok, on the bed and hook yourself up. Red dot up.” I climbed into the bed, as he told me, and grabbed the cyber-fleshlight and pushed it down on my hard dick with the red dot up towards my head. There was some sort of lubrication in it and it slid on with very little effort. It must have been heated as well, because the lubrication didn’t make it feel cold. I was given a nod from Ethan and put on the helmet over my eyes and ears.

The alternative version of Ethan’s bedroom was already there, waiting for me. I looked around and as far as I could tell everything looked like in the real world, except no Ethan of course. After half a minute, perhaps more, I was almost about to ask if he had started it when the French crop guy jumped in through the doorway, as if he was in a hurry. He was naked except for a pair of white, tight speedos that both highlighted his big package and created a reference point for his deep tan and made it look even deeper. There was a sheen over all his body, like he had been working out hard or oiled himself up, and he was breathing heavy. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t expect you so soon,” he panted. I didn’t know what to say. “You want me to help you with that?” he asked and nodded towards my dick. I looked down and saw a massive erection, easily twice my real size. “As an apology…” he continued.

“Yeah, sure bro.”

He made the cutest little jump of joy in response, and caught my smile. He composed himself and locked eyes with me. Then he started some sort of dance where all the movement was in his hips and abs. Then he added more of the upper body, still keeping eye contact. I thought I would hose him down with cum from my monster penis right there, so sexy was it. He smirked and moved closer. Still swaying he leaned forward and licked the head of my dick, which shot pleasure up my spine. He then started to circle the head with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. The first few times were shallow, but then he stopped teasing and begun to really do down deep on the dick. In addition I could feel him alternate between stroking my hips, the insides of my thighs, and tugging my balls. Just as I was about to nut he stopped working on my dick and started to slowly run his tongue up my faint abs, circling my nipple. I was squirming in horny delight.

He was straddling me now, face to face. I couldn’t resist it any longer and reached to pull him towards me and kiss him on the mouth. There was a loud crack of plastic against plastic as our VR helmets collided. “Dude?” I was looking at the French crop guy who was moving his hands in front of his eyes. “Ethan?” I asked, suddenly realizing what was going on. The French crop guy looked bashful, did a little wave, and answered in not-Ethan’s voice “Yeah.”

“Did you just blow me?” “I wasn’t… No, it’s still the device.” I hesitated, considering briefly what this would mean. “Would you like to?”

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Nine

Summary: Javier struggles in the hospital, but some of the symptoms are more somatic than physiological. He’s released, and the two of you have your first official date.

W/C: 4.2k (it just keeps getting longer... chapter 10 is 6k+)

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries, Javier used to be an asshole but he’s baby now, some innuendo/sexual flirting, brief mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: This chapter was actually hard to write! I had clear visions for 8 and 10 but didn’t have one for nine. Nevertheless, I really liked the way this turned out! I’ll post some sappy shit with chapter 10 but please know I love u all for reading and sticking around- it makes my little heart so happy that u guys love these two like I do <3

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Sleep is not easy when you have a massive stab wound in your abdomen. Javier hardly slept to begin with, but this makes it even harder. You tried offering sedatives but he harshly refused. You ordered dark and quiet for his room, but his sleep schedule was so helter-skelter before the accident that it was of no use to even try to fix it now. He can’t adapt when he’s not even in his own bed, he argues with you. Too damn bad, you tell him in return.

The only time Javier could sleep, it seems, is with you in the room. Specifically, in his arms.

It’s not that he thinks he’s unsafe. Hell, a hospital is the safest place he can be. It’s not that he fears passing in his sleep; he knows he won’t bleed out at this point. No, he just can’t sleep unless he has the comfort of a warm body wrapped up next to him. Specifically, the woman he loves.

You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips. “Javier. I’m working.”

“This is specialized therapy for a patient,” he offers, persuasive as ever.

“I can and will get the opiates,” you threaten. “You can’t stay awake forever, and we both know that.”

“Ángel. I just… need the security.” He looks desperate. His eyes are tired. He’s slept very little in the past few days, leaving him agitated and restless. “The only time I’ve slept well in here was when you were with me.”

You pout a little. It’s adorable, you must admit, and most of all, it’s true. You and other nurses have been catering to him around the clock, since he only sleeps an hour here or there.

Sighing, you look at him. Your eyes are tired too. You’ve slept only when he sleeps, which is barely anything. You’re working on the floor or in his room with him. “Let me go talk with Connie, cariño. I’ll see what I can do.”

You walk into the break room with tired eyes. “Listen, ladies.” Both Connie and Lorena are sitting at a table, eating something. “Javier isn’t sleeping. He asked for me to stay in there with him to get some rest. It’s the only way it’s helped so far. Would you two cover my rotation? Just for tonight?”

Lorena’s large eyes sadden, and she nods. “Por supuesto. Anything you need, love.”

Connie’s not as enthused, but she nods. “You’re lucky this floor is dead empty.” It’s all too easy to imagine this was happening to Steve instead of Javi. That’s what makes her cave.

You sigh in relief. You take a quick shower then return to Javier’s room in a pair of clean scrubs. He smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Hi. You hungry?” You ask, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He shakes his head. “Just tired.”

You smile softly. “Well, you’re in luck. Connie and Lorena are angels.”

“No, you’re my angel,” he says with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well they’re mine. You’re the devil on my shoulder,” you laugh quietly and sit on the edge of his bed. He chuckles and pulls you into him, and you snuggle in against him, your eyes slipping shut. He murmurs affirmations of his love for you into your hair as he falls asleep.

And that’s how Javier sleeps for the next few nights. Bits and pieces during the day, but only restfully when you’re in his arms.

The rest of Javier’s stay in the hospital is uneventful. He’s a model patient for you and the other women. He apologizes to Lorena for his outburst under the influence too.

“Ángel,” Javier calls as you try to leave the bed and takes your hand.

“Yeah, cariño?” You ask and sit on the edge of his bed, pushing his dark hair from his forehead. The name makes him feel warm and tingly inside. Pet names from women who mean it are all too rare to him.

“I… should tell you about Lorraine.”

“You don’t have to, Javi,” you shake your head and cup his face softly.

“No, I really should,” he protests, and you nod.

“She was my high school sweetheart. We both went to college and came back and fell in love again.” You nod along to the story, watching his facial expressions. He looks far away, like his mind is back in Laredo. “We were engaged. I proposed and everything, did the whole damn thing.”

“What happened?” You ask softly.

His eyes don’t meet yours. “I got cold feet. I… left her at the altar,” he admits. He’s terrified you’ll run out the door now. It’s not an easy decision, to run away from a life you’re about to lead. It’s even worse when you know what that whole church, full of people, will think. But he did it anyway, and he’s scared you’ll never look at him the same way.

You swallow hard. It’s not what you’re expecting him to say, but you have to admit that it does sound in-character for the man. “And how long ago was that, Javi?”

He looks back up at you. “Jesus. 15 years now maybe.”

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Time changes people. You know that. I know that. Your past is the past, love.” You press a brief and sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Javier. Don’t you ever forget it.”

You stand and leave his room.

Goddamn, Javier thinks. You really are an angel. You must be, to have that response to what he just told you.

Several days after the injury, Javier is discharged from the hospital.

Despite his rage and arguing, the embassy refused to clear Javier for work. He was to be placed on a brief leave to heal and return when he was up to walking on his own again, without some kind of balance or assistance. Steve agreed to bring Javier some things to work on every night after returning from the office. Javier is already a restless man, and neither you nor the Murphys want to find out what happens when he’s bored all day, his best friend and his girlfriend both too busy to be around. Besides, a deep dive into some cases couldn’t hurt, he argues, and Steve relents. You and Connie take on the responsibility of checking up on him at least once a day- usually her more so than you, due to the fact that she lived directly above him- and of running any errands he may need, for things like food or medication.

As you wheel Javier from his hospital room out to the Murphys’ car, you realize you don’t have his phone number, nor does he have yours. You stop the wheelchair in the hallway and grab a pen from a nearby table. “I know it’s kind of unprofessional to give a patient my phone number,” you chuckle and squat to his seated height, “but I really think you’re cute,” you flirt as you write your phone number on his hand with a permanent marker.

You hand him the pen and Javier grins, his neatly-trimmed mustache (courtesy of Steve’s steady hands) moving with his cheeks. “You’re lucky that I think you’re cute too or I’d be telling your supervisors,” he laughs and steals a kiss before writing his phone number down on the back of your skin.

“It’s kind of weird,” you admit as the thick felt tip brushes against your skin, “that I’ve told you I love you and I don’t even know your phone number.”

Javier chuckles and caps the pen. He holds up your hand and raises an eyebrow. “Now you do.”

-

Three days pass, and Connie gives you updates on his condition whenever she sees you. He’s still in a lot of pain, but he’s lucky he was strong beforehand. You know that for a fact, and it hurts your heart to picture those beautiful abs you caught a glimpse of not too long ago marred by a scar he’ll surely have.

As you get home from a shift, you sigh and plop down on the couch. It’s late, you notice, but you miss Javier. Knowing him, he’s probably awake; you’re sure his sleep schedule is still as terrible as it was before the hospital. You grab the phone from the end table next to your spot, dialing his number and waiting.

Javier picks up on the second ring. Of course he’s awake. “Peña,” a gruff voice answers. It makes you smile. For a second, you want to just continue on without him knowing it’s you, want to observe how he acts when he’s with others. He’s different around you, you know that, and it’s adorable, you have to admit. “Hello?” he asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” you laugh softly through the phone. “It’s me. Sorry, I just got distracted. You sound sexy when your voice is like that,” you tease him.

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Not a problem. How are you, hermosa?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that, Superman,” you laugh softly, leaning back against the couch. His voice instantly puts you at ease.

Javier laughs too. “Superman?”

“Big, strong. My protector.”

“Says the one who literally saved my life.”

“Who’s to say that cold wouldn’t have killed me if you didn’t take me to that diner?”

“Me.”

“I’m the nurse here.”

“And I’m Superman, apparently.” You laugh at that, wanting to reach through the phone line and kiss him then and there. “I’m no Superman, hermosa. I do bad things.”

“We all do, Javi.”

“Not as bad as me.”

“Gotta do bad things to catch bad people. You told me that. Are you trying to be this difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?” You ask sarcastically, smiling into the phone.

“I’m just telling you I’m not actually a good guy,” Javier says, his slight frustration evident.

“I was never under the impression you were. Is this you trying to push me away?” You ask, knowing that’s not the answer but hoping it’ll put some sense into him.

“No, no, cariño, I just-”

“Good, because we’re having our first official date tomorrow night. Okay?”

Javier chuckles a little at that. “I’m homebound. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Oh no, Superman. I’m coming to you,” you tell him, curling up into a ball and grinning. “I’m getting takeout and wine- or whiskey, if you’d prefer- and we’re having a date night at your place. What do you want for dinner? You’ve got to be craving something.”

This takes Javier aback. This certainly wasn’t something he expected you to say when you picked up. “Uh… no. Nothing comes to mind. And I’m more of a whiskey guy, but wine sounds more romantic, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll pick up something that goes well with wine,” you say with a nod, beaming. “And I’m going to be tired after my shift, so you better be in the mood to cuddle.”

A laugh rings through the phone. “Of course you want to cuddle.”

“Says the one who asked me to snuggle him to sleep.”

“Hey, I almost bled out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who asked.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Javi?”

“Yes, hermosa?”

Your voice is quiet and shy when you finally speak again. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

He grins, even though you can’t see it. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I like that, but we haven’t even had our first date.”

You can feel Javier rolls his eyes through the phone, but he’s clearly smiling when he speaks again. “Wouldn’t you consider that morning at the diner our first date?” He asks you, his face lighting up at the memory of it.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think we need to say it’s officially a date before it happens, then it can be a date.”

“I’m not going to be a very interesting date. I do have a large stab wound in my abs right now.”

“Don’t question my taste in men, Peña.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Do you want to dress up nice?” he asks. “A pretend night out?”

You grin at that. “That sounds wonderful,” you nod and rest your head on the pillows behind you, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

“Better yet, I’ll cook for you.”

“Why do I have a feeling your cooking features microwave cuisine?”

“First of all, that’s not fully true,” he laughs. “And second of all, at least let me pay for dinner.”

“Giving up that easily? Superman may have to have his title revoked.”

“No, you were just right. I’m not a great cook; takeout would be the best bet.”

“I’ll pay and you can pay me back by looking cute for me.”

“Is this how women feel when men are demeaning?” He teases.

“You got it,” you groan.

Javier sighs. “Don’t know how you do it. How was your day?” he asks, leaning back on his own couch, slipping a hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Long. My back hurts,” you admit, hugging the pillow to your chest. “The hospital is much more boring when I don’t get to sneak kisses from a hot patient.”

“I would assume so.”

“Got anything interesting in those case files?”

“I think Steve pulled out a box from ‘79 and handed it over just to appease me. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re supposed to be on leave. Do leave things.”

“Like what? You’re gone all day, so is Steve. There are my two options.”

“Javi,” you coo softly. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you are! You don’t even know what to do with your life. When was your last day off that you didn’t spend nursing a hangover?” There’s a beat of silence. “Exactly. Watch some telenovelas, read a book, pick up a hobby.”

“I have hobbies,” he pouts.

“Besides drinking, smoking, and fucking. I know your reputation,” you tease.

He’s silent and shy when his voice returns. “Did you-“

“I’ve known that the whole time, Superman. You think Connie didn’t spill everything the first time I asked her about you?” You chuckle softly. “No, I know about you. I don’t mind at all. It’s kinda hot,” you tease.

“Hey now, don’t start what you can’t finish. I’m not gonna be in shape for anything for a while.”

You bite your lip, deciding between flirting back harder or leaving it alone. You decide to leave it. “I’m not,” you chuckle. “I just think everything about you is attractive.”

“Even my giant stab wound?”

“Especially. If that’s what it took for you to admit you love me,” you laugh softly, and you hear him laughing on the other end.

“You should get some sleep, cariño,” Javi says in a softening voice. “It’s late, and you said your back hurts.”

“I will. I just… couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re doing. I’m glad it’s good.” You smile softly at the way his voice sounds through the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow night all day at work.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it here.”

“Goodnight Javi,” you tell him. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he tells you in return. “I love you too.” He hangs up quickly after saying that, before he can change his mind and stay on the phone with you for hours more.

-

As you leave the hospital the next day, your best friend’s voice rings out after you. “Use a condom!” Lorena shouts before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, an unplanned pregnancy would be the worst,” she teases and nudges your side. “Be safe!”

“Fuck you,” you mutter to her in English, but there’s a smile on your face as you leave the hospital.

“No, fuck Javi instead!”

“Goddamnit, Lori!”

The walk home is uneventful, as normal, but the sun is just about to start setting over Bogotá. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself, and you admire the skyline as you walk back to your apartment.

Once you get inside, you head to your bathroom and sigh as you look in the mirror. You’re tired, it’s evident, but your eyes hold your excitement. Turning on a cassette player in your living room, you dance and sing along to it in the bathroom as you do your makeup and style your hair. Both are simply done, but make you feel a little more confident, a little more elegant for your night in with Javier.

You dance along to the music and make your way into your bedroom. You change out of your scrubs and into the outfit you chose last night, in a rush of excitement after talking with Javier on the phone. It’s your favorite dress you wear when you’re going out, not that it’s often, one that makes you feel fantastic about yourself. You look in the mirror and have to admit, you look damn good.

After you twirl in the mirror a little, you pick up the phone and dial Javier.

The familiar greeting fills your ears. “Peña.”

“Hey, Javi,” you practically sing. “I’m leaving my place now, I’ll pick up the food and be over. Leave the door unlocked, that way you don’t have to get up and let me in, okay?”

Javier chuckles. “Yes ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and you grab your purse and a jacket, wrapping it tight around yourself as you leave your apartment building and head out to a nearby restaurant.

After the food is ready, you carry it in one hand, smiling to yourself as you walk the rest of the way to Javier’s. It’s closer than you ever knew, and it makes you smile even wider knowing that there’s only ever a short distance between you and him. The sun is now setting, casting everything in a warm glow.

Once you reach his apartment, you get hit by a wave of nerves. Impulsively, you climb the extra stairs and knock on the Murphys’ front door.

No response comes, surprisingly. Rather than continuing to knock, you get your courage up and go back downstairs, knocking on Javier’s door and letting yourself in.

Javier is at his kitchen table already, which is nicely set and even has a candle burning on top of it. He looks up when he hears you and smiles, and you immediately smile back. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, nice shirt and a tie, the shirt cuffed to his elbows. His hair, which has been messy nearly every time you’ve seen him, is neatly styled too. He looks professional, and it makes you giggle a little.

He takes a second to take in the sight of you too, his eyes raking all the way up your body until his eyes meet yours. “You look great, cariño,” he tells you with a little smirk, and you walk closer and set the food down on the table.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You look very formal.”

“This is what I wear to work,” he admits and tilts his head to the side.

“Then I’m going to have to come visit you at the embassy some time,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, for the first real time since the hospital. There’s silence between the two of you and you can hear a rhythmic knocking noise coming from somewhere-

You break away and your eyes widen, giggling. There’s a loud creaking sound that accompanied the pounding. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Javi asks, but then the noise reaches his ears.

You have to cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I have to admit, I went upstairs to ask Connie for advice before I came down here… I guess I know why no one answered,” you snort before you hear a uniquely feminine groan, and both you and Javier start laughing uncontrollably, falling into each other.

You bury your face in his shoulder laughing, then quickly remove it, forgetting you were wearing makeup. “Oh god, do you have a radio or something we can turn on to cover that up?” You as him, still giggling.

“Yeah, come on,” he says and leans on you for balance as the two of you walk to his kitchen. There’s a radio on top of his fridge, and he turns it onto the American station in town. You smile at the memory of first meeting him while this was playing. Some slow jam from a few years ago is on, and Javier cranks the dial to adjust the volume until you can no longer hear the Murphys and their activity upstairs.

The sun shines its last rays into the kitchen, casting an orange glow over both you and Javi. He looks down at you and swears he can see exactly what he’s feeling reflected in your eyes. Your eyes hold such kindness and depth and unconditional regard for him, and it makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let you go again, never let either of you ever leave this apartment and this moment. Javier has never been one for words, choosing mainly to express his feelings through the patterns of his hips against a woman’s, but he tries in this moment, just for you. “You… have gorgeous eyes,” he tells you softly, and you giggle and shyly look away. “Really,” he says, catching your chin in his hand and bringing your face back to look at him. “So beautiful. All of you, especially tonight.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing up into those big brown eyes and kissing him quickly. “Care to dance?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Javi chuckles a little and puts his arms around your waist in return. “Why not?” He asks, sneaking another gentle kiss before swaying the two of you around his kitchen. You rest your head in the curve of his neck and he smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to your head. He’s not a great singer, he knows that, but he mumble-sings the lyrics to you. You can feel his chest vibrate from his voice, and you sigh, pressing a kiss into his skin before resting your head on his shoulder again.

The song ends a few moments later and there’s a bit of dead air on the radio. No sound comes from upstairs and you lift your head, laughing a little. “Well, now that that’s all done… shall we eat?” You ask, and Javier nods, sneaking one last kiss from your lips.

The night ends with you and Javier cuddled on the couch. It’s late, and you’re watching his VHS tapes of old American movies. You’re snuggled into his side when he nudges your face with his neck. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in your dress?” He asks.

“What, are you trying to get me naked?” You tease quietly.

“No. Just want you comfy,” he murmurs, half asleep. You have to admit you’re tired too. “I have a proposal.”

“Yes I’ll marry you,” you laugh jokingly.

“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes. “Help me to my bed. You can wear some of my clothes. Sleep here tonight.”

You smile a little. “Is this your way of saying you can’t sleep without me anymore?”

“Sleeping alone is shitty once I got a taste of you,” he says with a charming smile.

“Alright Romeo,” you tease and kiss his lips gently. “I like that idea though. Let’s do it.” You stand from his arms, offering him a hand. He takes it and stands with a groan.

You help Javier to his bedroom, holding him up as a crutch and a balance. Javier’s tie was long discarded, after the two of you ate dinner. He strips the dress shirt and pants from his body, leaving him in just his boxers and a plain white shirt. He heads to his dresser and pulls out a large t-shirt for you.

You take it from him and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes as you unzip your dress. “You’re allowed to look,” you murmur teasingly next to his ear. His eyes fly open and watch you hungrily, the way you’re exposed in just a bra and panties.

“Mi ángel,” he mumbles, his hands on your sides. He looks down at your body before finding your eyes again and smiling softly. He kisses you gently. “I know I have a bad reputation. You know I love you for more than your body, right?”

You nod, your arms around his neck. “Of course I do, Javi. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

He nods. “Just… checking.” This is all so new for him, and you can tell. You kiss him tenderly for a moment before pulling on the big t-shirt and flopping on his bed.

“Now get in here and cuddle me, Superman.”

“Of course, cariño,” he laughs, sliding under the covers and kissing the side of your face.

-

translations:

por supuesto- of course

-

hey taglist, come get y’all juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: v

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||   chapter 3   ||  chapter 4   ||  chapter 6  || 

word count: ~4k

coming to terms now, are we?

warnings: descriptions of medical settings, discussion of surgery and injury but nothing graphic, god fluff, nasty big fluff

——

wow. halfway through y’all. thank you to each and every ONE of you who have given this story a chance. enjoy some fluff and get ready for next week 👀 once again, beta-ed by the wuv @keiqos !!

||||||||||||||||||

Exhaustion had long since clawed a hole in your skull. 

It was one of the many forms of malefactum that came from your fucking quirk, damn it to hell. The days following any sort of intense overstimulation episode of yours were always hellish. Constant fatigue, burning migraines, dry eyes, and confusion always waited for you by the time you rolled out whatever pushed you over the edge.

The villain attack was probably the worst episode you’d had, ever. 

The entire trip to the hospital had been sort of a nightmare. There were so many people that needed treatment after the attack, so many of them worse off than yourself. You were lucky enough to get into a dark hospital room fairly quickly, allowing some of your symptoms to dull. 

You were just coherent and aware enough to deal with everyone you needed to, paperwork and legalities of your visit sorted. You even managed to send a few texts to your parents and work groupchat to confirm that you were safe. 

After a myriad of late-night tests and exams, it was confirmed that the next morning, you’d have a procedure to mend your leg.

...

Fixing the internal damage to your leg caused by the tearing of the glass was a fairly quick affair, according to your kind-smiled surgeon.

“I know it seemed abrupt, to do it so quickly,” The surgeon stuffed her hands in the pocket of her scrubs. “But, we’ve flown in extra medical personnel to help deal with injuries from the attack and well, you’re an easy fix.”

You smiled, the best you could, groggy with the anesthetic, “I’m glad it isn’t too bad.”

“Nope! Not at all,” She laughed, far too pleasant for all the chaos just outside your dimly lit hospital room. “We’ll keep you here tonight, and you should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. You’ll need to keep weight off of that leg for about three weeks. We’ll have a follow-up appointment then, and make sure you’re healing alright. Sound good?”

You nodded, some tension releasing from your chest.

The procedure left you with a heavy plastic boot, clasped up to your knee. Not to mention your body ached with fatigue. 

Most of the rest of that day was spent spinning in and out of sleep, only waking for basic checks and a delivery of flowers you received from the teashop’s owners complete with a passive-aggressive reminder that ‘this had nothing to do with us, you can’t sue <3.’

 Your constant company was Hawks’s scarlet feather. As you moved through the bends of your quirk and post-surgical recovery, you held onto it like a lifeline. With each stroke of the soft filaments, your heart rate monitor would beep slower and slower towards a relaxed rhythm. 

It made you think of him, and how he felt with your quirk activated. 

Despite how shitty the circumstances were, really feeling Keigo with your quirk was heavenly. Feeling him in general, physically was a fucking blessing. You spent a lot of time that night and first day at the hospital fantasizing about how the beat of his heart felt like amber drops on your tongue and orange-bound warmth in your chest.

You wanted more of it.

 Keigo stayed around to help deal with the mess, for once in his career. It was weird for him to spend the following day after the attack helping out on the scene. It was even weirder for the other Pros around that were aware of his reputation of simply not doing that.

It was out of character for him.

But, then again, Keigo hadn’t ever spent as much time at someplace he enjoyed like the teashop. Hell, the whole street. He’d patrolled plenty of areas for long stretches of time, but he’d never grown attached.

You were, obviously, a big part of that.

Seeing you hurt left him frazzled and fucked, and staying behind to help pick up the mess and provide aid made him feel a hell of a lot better. Sure, it was different, having local Pros look to him for guidance when he had to purely rely on his training from the Commission as opposed to his professional experience. He did well, he knew, especially based on the way the scene calmed even when he simply flew around.

Keigo had the power to bring people ease, even if he struggled with it himself. 

The idea made him think back to you, undoubtedly still in pain, but more than likely entirely fine. He ignored the urge to text you anxiously as he was still parsing over the very sweet interaction the two of you had, even if it was in such a bad circumstance. 

Your sweetness at the end was his constant reminder that you would be okay. 

The implication and Keigo’s knowledge post- ‘the miel incident,’ as he was calling it, was obvious, and god, he wanted to fucking drown in it. The thought of having you so close that he could hear your heartbeat and feel the drum of your voice against your chest made him weak. 

He was so fucking weak for you.

It was distracting, as it always was. It seemed fairly unavoidable especially as anxiety chewed at him. The one thing that lulled him was the far off feeling of the feather he had tucked in your hand. It had to be close to you still, the beat of your heart sending him shudders if he focused on it hard enough.

It became too much, thinking of you.

As his feathers swept piles of rubble, he pulled out his phone, the sun beginning to sink in the evening sky. 

 You had spent most of your recovery time in and out of consciousness, enjoying the time to rest and sleep. 

A short buzz from your phone forced you into a half-wakeful state. You reached to the table next to the hospital bed, grappling for your phone.

 [birdboy]: hey r u alive, 

[birdboy]: how r u feeling

[birdboy]: speak 2 me

 You cracked a sleepy smile. 

 [you]: alive, tired, surgery-ied. 

 You took a quick snap of your booted, propped up foot.

 [you]: getting discharged tomorrow babyyyy

[birdboy]: oh fuck what happened?

[birdboy]: u sure ur good

 The feather against your collarbone twitched, filaments waving. You thought little of it.

 [you]: i tore some shit in my leg

[you]: and yes, just tired as fuck and want to be home

[you]: hospitals SUCK

[birdboy]: true, true

[birdboy]: would u... 

[birdboy]: like a visit perhaps?

[you]: u sure??

[you]: i know ur busy and i dont wanna use up ur freetime

 There was a pause in Keigo’s nearly instant responses.

 [birdboy]: dove.

 Your breath stuttered in your chest. That was newer; you only remembered it vaguely from the . It felt far more intimate than just ‘angel,’ and it made you shiver as you read it.

 [birdboy]: busy schedule??

[birdboy]: i’ll make the time angel

[birdboy]: i’d love to come visit u

 You couldn’t help the smitten expression that burst across your face.

 [you]: and i’d love to see you

 You wished you could’ve continued the conversation, but your night nurse knocked to offer you pain medication and sedatives and you couldn’t say no to more rest. Your mind and body needed it. 

As quickly as it was administered, you were out again. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You were exhausted. Still. 

When you heard voices just outside of your door, you couldn’t help cracking open your dry eyes. It seemed far too early for them to collect your vitals. The room was still dark, large windows only showing a trace of the dawn’s light stretching from the east.

Your sleep-addled mind stretched to listen:

“Thank you so much for the autograph! My son is such a huge fan of yours.”

“Oh, really! Tell him I say hi! I really adore my fans.”

Giggling.

“Is she a fan?”

“Sort of, more of a friend of mine.”

 He... said it again.

 A shaft of light sprayed into the room, your quirk firing at the sudden intrusion. You groan, pawing at your eye with your fist, the feather held between your fingers blocking some of the light.

Even with your diminished vision and tired mind, you still caught it when he laughed at your reaction, stepping into the room.

Honey, softness, cream and heat that made your chest thrum like embers.

“H-Hawks?” Your voice was still itchy with sleep. 

“That’s me.” His laugh rolled over you as your quirk receded, palms thrumming with the silkenness of his voice, “It’s good to see you, dove.”

“S’nice to see you too,” Your chest thrummed with his words and you couldn’t restrain the smile that spread across your face, “‘Ya know, you woke me up, just now.”

Hawks gave you a little chuckle, moseying his way to a chair nearby the bed and window, “Sorry about that. I had to sneak in here before official visiting hours so I didn’t cause a ‘scene’.”

You snorted. 

“You, causing a scene?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him, “Hawks? Never. Not once.”

He stifled a laugh, dragging the thinly-padded chair closer to the bed and leaning back into it, “Glad to see you’re in good spirits, considering you’re still here and all.”

“From what I can tell, it could be a lot worse, especially compared to other people that were there,” The end of your sentence turned sullen, your expression darkening. 

Hawks let out a little sigh, “It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. But, you’re safe, and most folks are safe. Bright side.”

“Bright side.” You repeated, softer, looking up from the plain sheets to meet his gaze. 

You took him in, quickly. 

He looked a bit worse for wear, the exhaustion from the days before still visible on his features. The dark circles under his eyes almost looked worse, perhaps uncovered and deeper since the attack. His wings weren’t even visible from your angle, plucked too short and sparse to be of much use. 

But, Hawks was, undoubtedly, still stunning. 

It was almost distracting, how unavoidable mentally eating him up was. You’d felt what he was like during the attack and that had apparently broken some mental dam for you. Holding back just how much you liked him seemed futile, at least mentally. 

You would let yourself be honest, at least with yourself, as a treat. 

What probably also pushed you over the edge was the fact that he wasn’t in his hero uniform, for once. You’d only ever seen him in his tan and black get up before. Seeing him casually dressed was shocking and very hot.

Hawks wore a simple black long sleeve with a long, wool jacket over it, black jeans, nothing seemingly extravagant except for the nicer looking chunky sneakers he wore and the fat gold watch on his wrist. It was all designer, knowing his paycheck. Without all of his normal regalia, you could better see that his pierced ears carried some light yellow stones that played off his eyes.

His feathery golden waves were messy, falling over his forehead and temples. The curves and angles of his jaw looked accented by the rising dawn light that was just beginning to filter into the room. There was the smallest quirk in his plump lips, but it hardly detracted from how stunning he was. 

He was remarkably gorgeous, naturally, and you let yourself think about it freely.

 Keigo felt a bit bad, seeing you in your state. 

He tried to be subtle, looking you up and down, heart-thumping his chest as the feather in your hand-picked up your own pulse. It had sped up when he entered the room, even more so when you started to beam at him despite your state.

You looked like a bit of a mess, and with anyone else, Keigo might’ve indulged himself in being a little bit of sarcastic shit about it, but he didn’t with you. It didn’t seem right. 

Your booted foot was propped up, a hospital gown askew over your collarbones under some thin blankets you were nested underneath. Your dark circles could’ve been worse, but your eyes were shining and alert, all directed on him it made him ache all over in the best way.

 The feather twitched in your hand, your gaze darting to it. Heat spread across your cheeks. 

“Oh, uh, shit,” You stretched your arm to pass the feather back to him. “Here’s this back. Sorry, I’ve kinda been holding on to it... a lot.”

“It’s alright, that’s why I gave it to you,” Hawks assured you, the feather whisking from your hand on its own and back to the downy stubs that Hawks had left. “Just a little reminder that good ol’ Number Two is looking out for you.”

You hardly needed a reminder. Thoughts of Hawks had been filling your head since it had stopped from swirling from your quirk. The thought of him leaving a bit of him with you only warmed your insides. 

“How could I ever forget?” You leaned back into your pillows, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Thank you, Hawks.”

Hawks blinked at you, reaching down to rustle something down by his feet, “For?”

“You know, saving my ass.”

“That’s my job, angel.”

“Still. You thank me every time I make you your drinks, right?” You shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Same principle. Except, your life isn’t on the line when I make you lattes.”

“Oh, angel,” Hawks drawled and deflected. “That is a false statement. I rely on those. They’re my lifeblood.”

A little realization dawned on you.

You gave him a sad little smile, rubbing your own knuckles for some semblance of comfort, “It’s gonna be a while until I can provide anything life-giving, then.”

The teashop was destroyed and who knew how long I’d be until they reopened. Not to mention that your leg was post opt and you couldn’t exactly work on it. 

Practicality aside, what saddened you most was that Hawks didn’t have much of a reason to see you without the shop. 

As much as you had feared it at the beginning of your friendship, you had gotten comfortable with Hawks’s presence in the shop and in your life. 

Too comfortable, and now it was biting you in the ass.

Thorns stabbed in your chest.

 Keigo noticed your slow-falling expression and frowned, “What’s on your mind?”

 “It’s nothing, just, uh...” You shook your head, blinking up at him,

Your voice cut off as your gaze refused to settle on him, Keigo clearly seeing your discomfort. 

“Without the teashop, you know...” Then, with that honesty that scared him, you finally met his eyes, gripping the sheets of your hospital bed, “I’m gonna miss seeing you.”

The principle made Keigo’s mind swirl.

You missing him.

His thoughts slipped back to ‘the miel incident’, and your mutual feelings that you very obviously didn’t fucking know about. If you did, he was sure you’d know that he would be missing you a lot without your normal interactions. 

This certainly wasn’t the setting to tell you, you were still stuck with an IV and probably somewhat traumatized by the event, even if you seemed in good spirits.

But, he could help assuage your fears. Subtly. Let himself use his honed arts to comfort rather than connive. 

“Dove, it’s alright,” He gave the softest smile he could, shreds of real vulnerability in it coaxed out by you without you even being aware of it. “Just because the teashop isn’t around right now doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

The stunned expression on your face would’ve been cute if it didn’t make Keigo’s heart stutter painfully in his chest.

 “You... You do?” Your voice was so soft, you surprised yourself.

Hawks was a busy, busy man. Why the fuck would he bother with you? There was no cute coffee shop aesthetic in your foreseeable future. Maybe some decent drinks, but you wouldn’t be very mobile. You had some supplies and gear to make teas and some drinks at your apartment, but nothing as expansive as was destroyed at the shop. If it was flirty banter keeping him near, there were certainly other people he could go to for some natural chemistry, right?

He doesn’t need you.

Why the fuck would he bother with you, outside of what you could offer him?

“Dove,” Hawks’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

“Uh,” You stuttered, mind catching up to the very obvious conclusion that, yes, Hawks does like having you around. “I guess, yeah.”

He frowned, leaning back in his chair as one of his smaller feathers whisked to your forehead, patting it a few times, “(Y/N), I like spending time with you. I care about you.”

Oh.

That was a little more vulnerability and truth than either of you expected.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, seeing a hint of unbearable fear before it was wiped away.

 You didn’t know it, but it was just you that pushed that fear off Keigo’s face.

He forced his shaking hands to be still, mouth drying after saying words that he wasn’t sure he was ready to say yet. God, they were true, but were they okay? For him, or you?

And then you gave him the gooiest, biggest smile you’d ever graced him with, “I care about you too, Hawks. Thank you.”

 It made both of your guts turn to mush.

In a stunned moment of silence, both of your breaths stuck in each of your throats. Neither of you could tear your gazes away from each other.

You both tightened your grip on your respective fabrics, your heart rate monitor beeping faster as you swallowed. 

Hawks opened his mouth, inhaling, but he was quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. A head poked in, the same nurse as before.

“Hey, sweetheart, we need to take your vitals quick,” She came in, waving to Hawks gleefully.

Hawks’s softened eyes were gone, you realized. Torn away from the moment and now speaking comfortably with the nurse as she checked what she needed to.

Your hands shook.

 Keigo noticed it, too, his own trembling as well. 

 The idle chat between Hawks and the nurse fell on your ears, though you didn’t process any of it. You were far too busy mentally coming to terms with the fact that Hawks cared about you. And, based on his tone and that familiar (but usually hidden) adoration in his eyes, it was a bit deeper than you expected and knew how to swallow.

You took a slow breath as the nurse left, Hawks waving with a wide smile plastered on his face.

When the door shut once more, there was a lull of silence that settled over the room. More early morning sunlight was beginning to slant into the room, throwing gold over the otherwise drab and lifeless greys and whites of the room.

The intense mood had been thoroughly interrupted by the nurse, but perhaps it was a hidden blessing. 

Both of you were terrified, but so deeply yearning. You both were a bit too raw. 

Maybe it would be better to let the fear fade, just a bit more. 

 “Oh, shit, I nearly forgot,” Hawks reached down next to him, pulling out a bag you hadn’t realized he had brought him. He set it on the edge of the bed. “I got you something.”

“Hawks.” You groaned, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You need to stop being so nice.”

“Can’t do that, (Y/N). I’ll be as nice as I want,” You could see that his grin was shit-eating through the space between your fingers. “Besides, you haven’t even looked at it yet.”

You took the bag into your lap, noticing the ruffles of tissue paper that puffed from the top. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You told him, albeit still pulling the paper from the top to reveal a small, wrapped, fluffy object.

Hawks hummed, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees, “You’re right. I didn’t have to. But, I wanted to.”

As carefully as you could, somewhat suspicious, you peeled back to the paper. 

Your eyes widened.

It was a plushie, round and soft with a filling that made it feel like a marshmallow in your arms. The design was familiar, a character from one of your favorite cartoons, but you’d never talked about it with Hawks.

“I figured you could use a little pick me up after all this,” Hawks tilted his head and winked. “Did I get the character right?”

Your mouth fell open, blinking, “How did you... know? That I liked this one?” 

“The little pins on your apron,” Hawks tapped his chest. “I figured you must be pretty fond of this one, since you had a couple of buttons for them, right?”

You wanted to give you a coherent, thankful statement to Hawks. Really, you did. Instead, you stared down at the doughy, round-eyed plushie. Maybe a few overwhelmed tears gathered in your eyes, which you promptly sucked down and shook your head.

“Thank you, really,” You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But, fuck, Hawks—”

 For a moment, Keigo thought you were upset with him. Based on the slight contorting of your face, and the wetness in your eyes, his heart seized up. His fingers twitched from where they cupped his chin, wanting to shoot out and comfort you somehow. 

However, Keigo stayed put as you turned back towards him, plushie carefully gathered in your arms and hugged snugly and perfectly to your chest.

“You gotta stop being so fucking nice,” You sighed, pressing your face into the soft fabric of the gift. Your words were muffled, but Keigo heard each one perfectly. “I’m gonna start getting ideas, you know.”

Sure, Keigo could’ve pushed some of your buttons and fluffed himself up for some fun, flirty banter that would be undoubtedly lovely, but it wasn’t the time. You’d had a very long and tiring few days, and Keigo could see and imagine that you were in all sorts of disrepair.

Keigo stood slowly, moving just next to your bed where you turned your head upwards to look at him. Carefully, he placed a worn hand on your shoulder, feeling the small bit of bare skin exposed by the thin gown.

“Don’t worry about that right now, dove, okay?” Keigo let his voice go soft, quiet, and gentle as he could make it. Without thinking, he squeezed your shoulder, rubbing his thumb just under your collarbone.

It was too much, maybe. But neither of you would complain.

Keigo could see and feel the way you relaxed, eyes going half-lidded and leaning into his touch, even putting the slightest amount of your weight into it. 

It was probably the most precious and sweet gesture he’d ever experienced. 

He made it his goal to make more like it. 

(Anything to see you so instantly mushy.)

 “I saw a coffee machine when I was coming in,” Hawks voice was a hum, hand on your shoulder not moving. You didn’t want it to. The heat pressing against your skin made you melt. “Want me to grab us some? I know I need it.”

You managed to giggle, craning your neck to fully look up at Hawks. You swore you could see the slightest quiver in his bottom lip.

“I’d love some.”

“You sure you can stomach shitty coffee?” The thumb rubbed over your collarbone, Keigo’s pretty eyes searching your face, portraying far more than your words. “That’s my territory, angel.”

“I guess I’ll stoop to your taste,” You gave him a smirk like sweet lightning and tentatively, carefully, reached your hand up to wrap around his own, squeezing. “I take my coffee black.”

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taglist: @thepandapopo @sinclairsamess

[mrs-dynamight]

Be Nice To Me 3

Part 2.

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

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader, Denki Kaminari x fem!Reader

Warnings: Eventual mature content, angst, hurt/comfort, love triangle, the reader is lowkey toxic, everything will be adressed in every episode (:

Chapter warning: Swearing but just a little bit of it. Kissing because this is still on fluff mode

Chapter: 3/? Yup still don't know

Synopsis: You're in love with your best friend Bakugou, and you're cofessing to him but things get a lot more complicated when Denki starts to treat you different *wink wink*

Word count: 2.2k

Author's note: Okay friends, this is a little longer but it's cute, and it has some interesting things that will be relevant to the story, so read carefully, aaaand I must warn this is a slowburn. Hope you like it

Chapter 3 My Oh My - Aqua

We both left the empty classroom and went directly to class 3A. Tenya saw us coming late and started rambling about how punctuality is key for heroes and how we as seniors should give example and just Tenya stuff.

The rest of the class went pretty fast, I was thinking about what Denki said, he sounded so serious when he said the gig stuff, maybe I was overthinking, he has always been nice with me, just nice, we are friends right?

All those years getting to know each other, being partners in crime, spending too many nights wide awake talking about our future, the amount of pressure being a “hero” meant, how at the end of the day we were still children risking our lives, he understood that better than most of our friends; some of his words were burned in my mind forever: “I love helping people, but sometimes I wonder who’s helping us?” “I’m afraid I’ll turn into a puppet of the hero commission, like Hawks did” “I’m afraid of losing myself in the process”; as far as I know I was the only one that knew this side of Kaminari, everyone else always thought of him as the dyslexic class clown, but there were so much more of him that only jokes and a funny face after using his quirk, such a complex mind, sometimes I wonder if he plays dumb on propose…

Thinking about Denki almost made me forgot how nervous I was for my date with Katsuki, but the ring of the bell that indicates the end of the class made me jump from my desk in excitement.

-Oi dumbass, see you in a while, be punctual- Bakugo said picking up his stuff and heading to the door without looking back at me.

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

We talked about nothing in the way to the ramen restaurant, I wasn’t as nervous as I were on Monday and everything seemed to be going so smoothly, just as I thought, this was Bakugo Katsuki my best friend, the guy I was in love with, he had seen me covered in sweat and bruises from the hero training, had seen me cry over my failed math tests, he knew me, if he didn’t like me back I could deal with it, but this date definitely won’t ruin our friendship.

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

-Don’t make me laugh when I’m eating, you idiot- Bakugo said between coughs from almost choking with his noodles

-I didn’t mean it, but it’s true my greatest fear are those wacky waving inflatable things they put in the cars sales, they scare the shit out of me- I said laughing and with a bit of embarrassment for telling this stupid thing to my crush, but he found it hilarious

-I’ve seen you take down villains with a single hand and without sweating a single drop, but your greatest fear is ridiculous Y/N-

That kinda sounded like a compliment, and knowing Katsuki it probably was, I couldn’t help but blush but if someone asked me it was the spiciness of the ramen.

-I’m also a little bit afraid of heights, not as I used to, but it makes me a little bit nervous thinking about falling to my inevitable death- I said slurping the last of the broth in my plate

-Heights? No way, that means we can’t go rock climbing because of a certain pussy- Said the ash blonde, finishing his ramen as well

-Why? Is Bakugo Katsuki planning on taking me on a road trip anytime soon? – Oh shit that sounded way more flirty than I had planned.

I turned bright red right after I said that and to my surprise the boy in front of me was just as red as I was, that’s it I just made Katsuki Bakugo blush, I can die a hero now. We were not looking at each other, not saying a single word, just awkwardly sitting in front of each other.

-I… I was joking ´Tsuki- I began but he interrupted me with

-Maybe I want to take you to a stupid road trip, what you’re going to do about it? You can chicken now and saving me seeing you cry in front of a rock, but that wouldn’t be very Y/N of you- Aaaaand just like that Bakugo’s back

-Let’s go, Draw, I still wanna kick your ass in Mario Kart before curfew and knowing you, you will want to play those claw things and get some weird weeb thing, like a figure of that loud anime guy you like, the one who plays Volleyball; and of course you will be wasting all your money in the process- This man knows me damn too well

I was about getting my money to pay but he stopped me

-I got this-

-But ‘Tsuki I invited you, I have to pay for it- I said but the waitress had already taken Katsukis money

-If you beat me at Mario Kart, I’ll let you pay me back, but if I win… Well we will see about that later- Bakugo said without looking at me

Was that flirting? Is Katsuki Bakugo flirting with me? Did he noticed this was a date and that’s why he wanted to pay? Nah, he’s probably doing it to bother me, but if anything made me bush a little.

-Oi, you coming or what? – I was so caught up in the emotion that I didn’t noticed he was already heading to the front door

We walked a couple of blocks to the arcade, it was still early in the afternoon, we had a couple of hours before our curfew and I was going to make the best of them.

--------

After the tenth time losing against him, I gave up.

-This is bullshit, I don’t know how but you’re cheating, there is no way I actually hit all those frigging banana peels, this game sucks, you suck- I said making an overdramatic mouth pout and crossing my arms on my chest.

I could hear Bakugos laughing on my side and when I turned to look at him, he had the most gorgeous look on his eyes, but when he noticed that I was looking at him he changed his expression.

-I told you so, you can’t beat me, but I’m a compassionate God, so I’ll let you choose the next game for you to lose in- His big smile was equally irritating as it was beautiful

Three games in and Bakugo was about to blow the whole arcade up, apparently, he can’t dance to save his life, so Dance Dance Revolution was the perfect game for me to choose. I was literally tearing up from laughter, he was so angry and upset.

-If you had spending more time with Mina and me you could have learned a couple of steps, but you had to go sleeping at eight like an old man-

-Have you seen this face? This is what a good sleep schedule does to your skin, but I guess you’ll never know about that-

-Oh god, is that a pimple? – I joked to make him even angrier, I leaned towards his face to mock him more -Oh he has a brother, and a whole family of angry little buds, this even looks like you-

He turned his head and his nose was almost an inch away from mine, his eyes locked with mines, we were so close that I could feel his breath, a little bit more and our lips would be touching, my mind was going blank, I suddenly forgot how to breathe, I thought that it was actually happening, I should close my eyes and go for it, I leant a bit closer, we were almost there…

-Y/N, we both know there is not a single pimple in this face- Said Bakugo moving his head back and creating some distance between us.

I felt my heart drop to the ground. He didn’t wanna kiss me, I probably made him uncomfortable being that close, I’m so stupid, I fucked up.

-There is the claw machine of the Volleyball dudes, and there is the owl one you like- Bakugo was trying to be a good friend to me, and as much as I appreciated it I was way too sad to even think about volleyball

After more than a half of my money spent, I was walking to the UA dorms with my Bokuto plushie and an ache in my heart. I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, was I imagining everything? Was he not flirting with me? It felt so real, I wanted to cry, but that would only make things worse, I wasn’t looking at Bakugo for the first time since we’ve met. I couldn’t hold a conversation after that, I used the excuse of being too concentrated in winning the plushie, but now that we are walking side by side it feels weird not saying anything. Bakugo doesn’t seem to care, or even notice, he’s also very quiet, this feels way too awkward, I just want this night to be over and cry my heart out in my room. There is only a couple more blocks and this nightmare will end.

-Hey Y/N, wait- This is the first time I hear Bakugos voice since we started heading the dorms

I try to put my best “Everything is okay” face but I fail miserably when I see his face. I started to tear up and just hugged my plushie with my eyes fixed in the ground, I can’t see him in the face

-I’m sorry Katsuki, I wasn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation, I wasn’t thinking and…-

I was grabbed so suddenly I dropped Bokuto

Before I realized his lips were pressed against my own. I was way too shocked to respond to his kiss, to my very first kiss. He pulled back, and a sigh left his lips.

-‘Tch, don’t apologise, I didn’t wanna kiss you in front of a bunch of losers- He said looking to his side, clearly avoiding my confused gaze

I didn’t hesitate, I grabbed his face and kissed him, trying to let him know how much I waited for that kiss. He quickly responded to it, for someone as strong and tough as him he was being gentle and caring, if this ain’t heaven, I dare God to come down and tell me this isn’t what glory feels like.

We kept the kiss, it became more and more passionate, he got closer to deepen the kiss, I could feel his arms around my waist, and I could taste the melon soda he had at the arcade in his lips. I opened my mouth just a little and I felt his tongue slowly brushing against mine. This was the pinnacle of happiness.

We broke the kiss with blushed cheeks and racing heartbeats. This was too much; my head was spinning and I almost cried tears of joy.

-I thought you didn’t wanna kiss me- I said with a broke voice

-I didn’t- His reply felt like a bucket of cold water

-What? You’re kidding, you kissed me- Knowing Bakugo he just said that to mess with me

-Y/N I didn’t want to kiss you, but not because of whatever stupid thing your mind its thinking right now-

-Then why? You can’t just kiss me and then tell me you didn’t mean it, you don’t like me? –

-I like you, a lot, and that is why this is getting way harder that it’s supposed to be, I’ve been dying to kiss you for a long long time Y/N, you had no idea how much I have fantasized with having you between my arms and telling you just how much I like your dumb pretty face, I like you, and don’t you ever doubt it-

-Then, why? –

-I’m going to become the no. 1 hero, and that means I have to try even harder than the rest of the losers in this and the other hero curses, that’s why I will be having internships abroad this semester, with the bests heroes not only in Japan but in the world. I have to be the best in everything, having a girlfriend will only be distracting and possibly a complete disaster because I will be a terrible boyfriend being that busy with hero training, and asking you to wait for me is selfish, even for me. I didn’t wanna kiss you and then leave for half a year, maybe even more, but then you looked at me with those stupid kitty eyes and I just…-

-You’re going away? And you didn’t told me? – Now I definitely started to cry

-Oi! You’re the first one to know I haven’t even told my mom yet –

-I’ll wait –

-What? No I.. –

-I said I’ll wait for you, Bakugo Katsuki I’ve been in love with you since we first meet, I’ve been waiting two years for this, this is just half a year, then we will have all the time in the world-

Now it was Bakugos time to shed a tear

-You don’t have to; I don’t want you to be waiting for me while I…-

My kiss didn’t let him finish what he was about to say, he was tearing, I was tearing, but it was beautiful.

-Six months and then you’ll be mine Katsuki, get it? –

-I don’t think this is a good idea, you dumbass-

-Maybe it isn’t, but what are you going to do? Stop me? - I replied and then we kissed one last time

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

Part 4.

I really liked how this turned out, I'm going to the the masterlist post soon so you can find all the chapters together. As always I'm starting to write and in my second language (just give me my certificate already) so any error let me know, and if you want to be tagged message me. LY

[thepremedthatwrites]

May I request a smut/fluff where Peter and his wife finally sleep together! They have been married for 6 months and never did it since their marriage was arranged and Peter use to have many mistresses (before marriage). His wife and him barely speak but respect/love! Can it be when Peter is the High King of Narnia and where the wife asks him to sleep with her since she heard the court is talking about her because she still isn’t with child and Peter consoles her that he doesn’t care about that.

Get to Know You

I’m so sorry this took so long!  College just started so it took some time for me to get adjusted to the new schedule.  Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

warning: smut below the cut

I turned over to my side, watching the sleeping man next to me.  The soft moonlight that poured through the large windows gave the room enough light that I could just make out his features.  Even after six months, I would still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, confused as to where I was until I saw the mop of blond hair on the other pillow.  I wasn’t in Telmar anymore.  Instead, I was in Narnia and the golden band on my left hand reminded me why I was here - an arranged marriage.

I turned so my back was to Peter, not wanting him to wake up to the sight of me staring at him.  I had to admit, I was lucky to have been married off to such a handsome man.  I had heard horror stories of girls my age being married to men who could be their fathers.  I slowly climbed out of bed, not wanting to wake Peter.  I felt goosebumps start to rise from my skin as my body left the warm blankets and now only had the thin silk nightgown as a barrier from the cool night air.  I winced as the large door creaked open, stopping momentarily to glance at Peter who was still fast asleep, his soft snores barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat.

I slipped out of the door, careful to quietly close it behind me.  I wandered the halls, not entirely sure where I was heading.  My eyes wandered the ornately decorated halls, admiring the beauty of the castle.  I continued walking in silence, enjoying the seemingly empty castle which allowed me to think.  “Six months,” I heard a voice say.  I stopped in my tracks before pressing my body against the cool stone wall.  I was sure that if someone caught me wandering the castle alone at night, they would scold me for being so careless or even worse -  assume I was on my way to meet another man.

“The King and Queen of Archenland announced their pregnancy within three months of their marriage,” a second voice said, this one much deeper than the other.

“Do you think she’s infertile?” the first voice inquired.  They seemed to snarl the word infertile as if just the thought of it was repulsive.

“Perhaps they never consummated their marriage.”  The voices lowered for a moment and I strained to hear anything else they might say.  Was this truly what Narnians thought of me?  

“What good is she if she can’t even produce an heir to the throne?” I heard one of them say.  I wanted to scream, to turn the corner and confront whoever these people were.  But I couldn’t because I knew they were right.  My job was to give Peter an heir but how could I do that when we’ve never even had sex?  While I had been grateful that he never pushed to do anything in the bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel some guilt.  I quickly spun around and made my way back to my shared bedroom with Peter.

My vision had become blurred by the times I reached the mahogany double doors.  I blinked, releasing the first set of tears as I opened the door slowly.  I wiped away the set of tears only for them to immediately be replaced.  I wrapped myself in the blankets, the sound of Peter’s snoring the only thing able to be heard as I quietly cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to Peter’s arms around me.  He must have moved in his sleep as I didn’t remember falling asleep like that.  Although I was practically in the arms of a stranger, the feeling was comforting.  His body was pressed against my back, his scent finding its way to my nose.  His arms were tanned and strong due to hours of training underneath the sun.  I craned my neck to look behind me.  His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open.  When asleep, the features of his face were soft unlike how they were in his usual day-to-day affairs with diplomats and other monarchs.  When consciousness left Peter, you could still see a hint of the scared 13-year-old who arrived at Narnia all those years ago.  

I hesitantly moved my hand to his forearm, allowing my hand to rest gently on him.  It felt natural cuddling with him.  I felt Peter’s body move behind me, the arm that had been around me slowly leaving me.  I moved my hand from Peter, turning to face him.  “Sorry,” he murmured as he started to get up, the blankets falling from his upper body and collecting around his hips.

“For what?” I asked, slowly getting up as well.

“I didn’t mean for you to wake up like that.”

“In your arms?”  He nodded.

“It’s just I heard you crying last night and I guess that’s all I could think of to make you feel better,” he replied.  “I guess that was stupid of me.”

“No, it’s not,” I said quickly, embarrassment settling in as I realized he heard me crying.  We sat there in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

“Why were you crying?”  His voice was gentle as he asked, his blue eyes watching me, gauging my response.

“It’s nothing,” I replied.  “It’s stupid.”

“(Y/n),” Peter said, his voice stern and his body now fully facing me.  “We’re husband and wife now.  I know that these conditions probably weren’t what you pictured when you dreamed of your picture-perfect marriage but if we’re gonna make the best of what we have, then we have to communicate.”

“It’s just,” I started, feeling my throat get tight as I fought back the tears, “Last night, I overheard some people talking about how I’m not with child yet.  I can’t even do the one job that I have as your wife.”  

“Who said that?” Peter asked.  His voice was sharp and there was a fire behind his eyes.

“I don’t know.  I didn’t see them,” I said, turning away from him as I felt the beginning of my tears fall down my face.  I couldn’t let him see me like this.  

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer.  “Look at me.”  I slowly turned to Peter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his blue ones.  He reached towards me, wiping away my tears.  “I don’t care about whether you have a child or not.  What I care about is you.  I want you to be happy (y/n).”

“How can you care about me?  You barely even know me,” I mumbled, studying my hands.  

Peter sat quietly for a moment, lost in his thoughts before speaking again, “I have an idea.”

“A cottage in the middle of the woods?” I questioned as the carriage slowed to a stop.  Peter had cleared both of our schedules for the weekend before packing our things in a carriage and taking us into the middle of the woods.

“It used to be Mr. Tumnus’ house before he moved into the castle.”  We walked into the cozy cottage, one of the castle’s servants bringing in our stuff.  “He said we could use it for the weekend.”

“This is so cute!” I exclaimed, looking around.  There was a small kitchenette, a cozy fireplace with two armchairs, and pictures of the faun and his family decorating the place.  

“Would you like some tea?” Peter asked as he made his way to the kitchen.  

“Do you know how to heat up water?” I questioned causing Peter to scoff.

“I’m not completely helpless,” he replied as he searched for the necessary ingredients.  I settled into the armchair, looking around the room for any firewood.  To my surprise, there was a small pile of it in the corner despite the house being empty for years.  I got up before placing a few logs into the fireplace.  I grabbed the flint and steel that sat next to the firewood before starting the fire.  The room was filled with the crackling of the fire as Peter made his way over with two cups of tea.

The sun had set long ago, the fire now the only source of light in the cottage.  Peter sat in the armchair opposite of mine in silence, his body stiff, and his eyes glazed over in thought.  I chuckled.  “Is His Majesty having difficulty starting a conversation with his own wife?”  His face held a soft pink tint as he gave a sheepish smile.

“I’ve never really been on a date before.”  I raised my eyebrows.  Everyone knew that Peter was notorious for his mistresses before we were married.  Someone had once told me he had three girls in his room in one night.  “I never really had to talk to the girls I slept with before,” he added as if reading my mind.

“Well, you usually start with something easy.  Like how was your day?”

“Well I woke up next to this gorgeous girl,” Peter started, causing me to giggle.

“Peter!” I chastised.  “Try to be a little serious!”

“Alright, I woke up to my gorgeous wife,” he said causing me to roll my eyes.  “But you see, she was upset so I planned this getaway to make her feel better.  When I told Susan she freaked out, saying how I was supposed to be going to an important meeting tomorrow with the King of Archenland.  But I reminded her that Lune and I are already well acquainted and I was sure he wouldn’t mind talking to her or Edmund or Lucy.  Then I had to find people to help clean up the cottage so it would be ready for tonight and let me tell you, this place was a dump before.”  I nodded along, a smile on my face as I listened to Peter describe his day.  “How about you (y/n)?  How was your day?”

“Let’s see, I woke up in the arms of my husband but you already know all of that,” I started, pausing to think, “So after that, I went to the library where I saw Edmund.  I played chess with him for a while but it wasn’t long till he beat me.  He wanted to play again but I refused, accusing him of just wanting to play another round cause he knew he would beat me again.  So then I went to the horse stable where I saw Lucy sneaking some of the horses extra apples.  When I asked her why apparently she does this a lot so I obviously helped her by getting more apples and sugar cubes from the kitchen.”  Peter and I sat there in front of the fireplace for a few hours, talking about anything that came to mind.  Peter was in the middle of talking about a book he had just finished reading when I yawned.

“(Y/n), if I’m boring you, you can just tell me,” Peter chuckled, getting up.

“No, I’m fine.  Continue talking, I’m having such a great time hearing you talk about your nerd book.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”  He bent over, picking me up in his arms and causing me to yelp in surprise.

“Peter, I am totally capable of walking by myself,” I stated as he carried me bridal-style towards the bed.

“But this is so much more fun.”  His face held a mischievous smile as he turned to me.  I felt my heart start to race as I noticed just how close our faces were.  I moved my hand to his face, caressing his cheek as he laid me down on the bed.  His body was hovering over mine, our faces still only inches apart.  Peter and I hadn’t kissed since our wedding day.  And that kiss was so different from the kiss in the cottage.  On our wedding day, there hadn’t been any emotions.  The kiss had merely been our duty as royals.  

This kiss was overflowing with emotion.  It was a kiss where tongues danced together and teeth clashed.  Where hair was pulled and hands wandered the body.  Peter pulled away for a moment, both of us panting from the intensity of it all.  “We can stop now if you want,” he said softly.  

I shook my head.  “I want to do this Peter.”  It was all he needed as he expertly untied the knots of my dress before pulling it off of me, revealing myself to him.  He took a step back, his eyes wandering my body for a moment.  As I stood naked underneath his stare, I could help but start to cover myself.  He was sure to have had much more beautiful women in his bed before.  I was probably repulsive compared to them.  Peter took a step towards me, moving my hands away from my body.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, love,” he said in almost a growl.  The way he spoke those words caused butterflies in my stomach.  He slowly backed up before ripping off his shirt, revealing his upper half.  I subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes wandered his body.  I walked towards him as he pulled down his pants, his erection springing free.  I put out my hand before slowly wrapping my fingers around him.  I had only ever read of this stuff in erotica.  I could only hope that I knew what to do, the last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of my husband.

 Peter took a deep inhale as I started to slowly stroke him.  I looked up at him.  His head had fallen back and his eyes were now closed.  I knelt down so that my face was level with his cock.  I watched my hand travel from the base to the tip and back again.  Peter let out a low moan which encouraged me to go farther.  I let my tongue touch the tip, the salty taste dancing on my tastebuds.  I circled my tongue on his tip before starting to take more of him.  I opened my mouth as wide as I could, pushing my face closer to his base before feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat.

I pulled back, letting his cock fall from my mouth before grabbing it in my hand.  I looked up to see his piercing blue eyes looking down at me.  I licked my lips, diverting my eyes for a second to his cock.  I guided it back into my mouth.  As I started to bob my head up and down his cock, I kept my eyes locked on his.  “You’re doing so good,” he gasped as his tip hit the back of my throat again.  I pulled back slightly, allowing my tongue to run along his cock, gauging his reactions.  “Fuck,” he gasped as my tongue swirled around his tip.  “Get up (y/n),” he commanded.  His voice was stern and as I got up, I looked into his lidded eyes to see they were filled with lust and desire.

He pushed me onto the bed, kissing me passionately until I was left gasping for air.  He sucked and bit down my neck before stopping at my breasts.  He put one in his mouth, his tongue dancing around my nipple causing me to moan.  Without warning, he bit down on my nipple causing my back to arch at the sudden surge of pleasure.  He went on to do the same with the other breast before starting another trail of bites and kisses down my stomach and to my now wet and aching pussy.

I held my breath in anticipation as I felt his ragged breathing against me.  Just as I was about to tell him to stop teasing, he harshly licked my clit causing me to cry out in pleasure and my back to arch.  He began to suck on my clit, dragging his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves before swirling it around causing me to let out my moans freely.  “Peter!” I gasped as he entered a finger in my dripping entrance.  He added another before allowing them to go in deeper.  He curled his fingers causing them to hit my g-spot.  He continued to fuck me with his fingers while his tongue played with my clit.

“Peter,” I gasped.  “I gonna…”  Before I could finish my sentence, I let out a scream.  My eyes were forced closed as my thighs squeezed Peter’s head, my hips rising to meet him.  Peter gradually slowed down, leading me down from my high.  I cautiously opened my eyes to see his face hovering over mine.  

“You did so well, love,” he whispered into my ear before starting a trail of kisses from my ear to the front of my neck to my lips.  I kissed him back hungrily, tasting myself on him.  “Are you ready?” he asked as he pulled away.  My eyes lingered on his hardened cock which was already leaking with precum.  I nodded frantically, not trusting my words.  He chuckled darkly before lining himself with me.  I let out a gasp as he pushed into me, his cock stretching me out.  

My hands reached out, gripping onto his forearm as he started a slow pace.  “Fuck (y/n).  You fit me so well,” Peter praised as his pace started to quicken.  I let out a whimper as the pleasure started to spread throughout my body.  Peter leaned down, kissing me harshly.  My hands became entangled in his hair, tugging on his golden locks causing him to let out a groan.  The pace he was at was now merciless, the bed frame banging against the wall.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the new position allowing him to go deeper into me.  I was now a moaning mess underneath him.  A layer of sweat covered my body as the cottage was filled with our moans and the creak of the bed.  I felt the familiar feeling start to form.  “Peter,” I moaned.  “I’m so close.”

“Me too, love.”  He pulled away so that he was now upright.  He grabbed my leg and raised it so that it was now up vertically in the air.  

“Oh God,” I moaned as the new position somehow made it even more pleasurable, something I didn’t know was possible.  I wasn’t going to last much longer.  “Fuck Peter,” I moaned as my walls clenched around him.  My entire body shook as my orgasm rippled through me.

“(Y/n),” he moaned, falling forward as I felt something warm spurt inside of me.  I was still slightly shaking as Peter came down from his high.  He brushed away a (h/c) lock from my face before looking down at me with a smile.  He buried his face into the crook of my neck, littering the skin with kisses, before pulling out of me and rolling to my side.

“That was…” I started, not sure how to finish the sentence.  Words couldn’t even start to describe how I felt.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded.  I cuddled closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around me.  I was starting to fall asleep when I thought I heard Peter say something.  It might have just been a part of my dream that had started to manifest in my mind but I could have sworn I heard Peter say “I love you.”  

[noona-clock]

False Hope

Genre: AU, Friends to Lovers

Pairing: Jae x You

Warnings: Anxiety

Words: 3,835

You let out what could only be described as a combination of a sigh and a whine as you, yet again, opened your eyes to glare at your bedroom ceiling.

Your mind was racing, as it was wont to do -- this was nothing new whatsoever, and thinking about all the work you needed to get done for your job tomorrow and the day after was preventing you from getting any sort of rest.

With the arm closest to your side table, you reached over and felt around the surface for your phone. The last time you had checked the clock, it had been about half past one in the morning; what time was it now? You’d been lying here trying -- and failing, obviously -- to go to sleep for what seemed like quite a while now... maybe it was two? Quarter past?

When you brought your phone up to your face and saw what time it actually was, another sigh-whine escaped from your lips.

2:45 AM.

So, you’d been attempting sleep for over an hour since the last time you’d looked at your phone. And for quite a few hours before that, too. Since 10 PM, to be exact.

...Yeah, you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

As you turned over onto your side, you unplugged your phone and typed in your passcode to bring up your text messages. There was only one thing you could do at a time like this: text Jae.

You weren’t sure why you were surprised when you saw him read your message almost instantly.

More often than not, when you couldn’t sleep, Jae was also experiencing the same trouble. You imagined that if the two of you shared a room, you would have many -- many -- late night/early morning conversations because neither of you could sleep.

But... you weren’t sure why you would share a room with Jae because he was your friend. One of your very good, very close friends, but not the type to share a room with.

When you saw his typing bubble pop up, you shook your head a little, dismissing the thoughts of being in the same bedroom as Jae.

...What did he mean ‘what’s up’? It was almost three in the morning. Did he think you would be texting him about something important?

Since both of you currently lived alone, you had no qualms about talking on the phone in the middle of the night; nobody else was around for you to disturb, and usually talking to Jae helped ease your mind -- at least enough for you to be able to actually go to sleep.

As soon as you saw his call come through, you accepted it and put him on speakerphone.

“Yo,” he said, his voice groggy and quieter than normal.

“Hey,” you sighed.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

With a groan, you replied, “I just have so much to get done in the next couple of days for work, and I can’t stop thinking about how I’m going to do it all. Trying to schedule out each task and what I need to do if I don’t finish something because then I would have to work on it next week but I have meetings and a big presentation next week so I really can’t afford to add something else to my workload and my dad called me earlier and said my mom is starting to get headaches again but they can’t afford any more treatments especially if she has to stop working so what if I have to move back in with my parents again to help them out and what would I do with all of my furniture and stuff I mean I can’t just sell everything because I’ll need it eventually but I can’t take it with me because there’s no room and I guess I could find a storage place but I don’t know how long I would have to live with them and --”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jae interrupted gently.

You were honestly glad he did, though. You hadn’t any idea you were going to ramble like that when you’d started talking. Apparently, you were more anxious about things than you even realized.

“Sor -- sorry,” you breathed, your chest heaving slightly from having said so much in so little amount of time.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry,” he told you. “I just wanted to stop you before you hyperventilated.”

A soft, self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips, and you murmured, “Thanks.”

You heard Jae take a breath and then there was a pause during which you could clearly imagine him pressing his lips together in thought. And then he said, “I’m sorry all this is happening to you right now. If there’s anything I can do, you know you can come to me, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. Jae was just that kind of friend. He may not always remember your birthday or remember to text you back (really, the only time he was good about that was when he was lying in bed having trouble sleeping), but he was reliable as hell when you needed a listening ear or some advice about something. You could trust him -- and you did, with every fiber of your being.

“You’ll get everything done you need to get done,” he assured you. “I know you, and I know how hard you work. It may seem daunting, but you got it. And if you don’t finish, call me over and I’ll help.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, a soft grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “I will.”

“And... about your family. I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to think about all the things that could happen. Doing that never sends you down a pleasant road. If you focus too much on the future, you’ll forget about the present.”

“Ah, yes, you are an expert at focusing on the present, aren’t you?” you replied teasingly -- because he really, really wasn’t. He was just as bad, if not worse, than you when it came to worrying about tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.

“Dude, shut up,” he scoffed. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I know, I know,” you grinned. “Thank you, really. And I know when the sun rises, everything will seem a lot better.”

“Except for the fact you have to go work on barely any sleep.”

“Very true.”

You let out yet another sigh and rolled onto your back before remembering that it was almost three in the morning, and Jae was up for a reason, too.

“What about you?” you asked. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Unexpectedly, there was a slightly awkward pause after you asked that.

You furrowed your brow gently and opened your mouth to ask Jae if he was all right, but he answered before you got the chance.

“Nothing -- just general -- y’know, same old same old.”

You immediately narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“Jae,” you chided. “Come on. You can tell me.”

Never in your several years of friendship had Jae ever not told you why he couldn’t sleep. The two of you had crossed that threshold so long ago; you were comfortable telling each other anything.

At least... you thought you were comfortable telling each other anything.

“I... I don’t think I can,” he murmured.

“Of course you can! You know I’ll never judge you, and if it’s something you don’t want anyone else to know --”

“No, it’s not -- it’s not that, Y/N --”

“Then what? Please -- Jae, I just want to help --”

“I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blurted out.

You immediately froze, your mouth hanging open mid-sentence but emitting no sound whatsoever. Every single part of you just froze, including your heart.

In your mind, you said ‘Excuse me, what? What do you mean you can’t stop thinking about me? Do you mean in a romantic way?’ But, for some reason, you could find absolutely no way to say that out loud.

As if Jae could actually hear your inner thoughts, though, he said, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I... think I’m falling for you.”

All right, that answered your question, then.

...Jae had feelings for you? For you? Feelings? Jae? You?

“You --” you began, but the next words got lodged in your throat and you couldn’t continue.

Jae let out a very disappointed sigh, and to be honest, it kind of broke your heart. “It’s okay,” he muttered. “I didn’t expect... Things won’t get weird between us, I promise. You can still text me when you can’t sleep.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to choke out an “Okay.”

“Is... there... anything else you want to talk about?” he asked. It was very obvious he was trying his best to be normal, trying his best to push away all the awkwardness his confession had created.

And if he was trying his best, then so should you.

“If you could clone anyone -- person or animal -- who would it be?” you asked.

Jae didn’t answer right away, and you knew -- hoped -- that meant his lips were curving into one of his adorable little grins.

“My --”

“Don’t say ‘myself,’” you interrupted with a laugh.

“Why not?! I could make my clone do all the boring stuff so I can just game and eat and maybe actually get some sleep!”

“You can’t say yourself, that’s just the rule of the game!”

“It’s not a game! You just asked me a question!”

“Well, I’m making it a rule,” you retorted.

“Questions don’t have rules!” Jae argued.

“Mine do.”

“Who would you clone?” he asked.

A grin immediately appeared on your lips, and you said, “I would clone you.”

“Wha -- me? Why me?”

“So I could make you do all my boring stuff so I could just eat and watch TV and sleep.”

Jae burst out laughing, and the sound of it made your heart feel so warm and fluffy. “What? No, no, no, dude,” he protested. “You can’t clone me so I can be your servant, that’s messed up!”

“I can! And I would!” you giggled.

“Okay, so then, I would clone you and do the exact same thing.”

“That’s fair!” you assured him. “But if the clone was actually a carbon copy of me, you know I would never do all the work and let you just sit on your ass, right?”

“Wait, but I thought the clones were more like robots,” he pointed out.

“Who said they were like robots?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed!”

“So, you would make robot me do all your chores while you just sit around and watch?” you asked, hoping the playful smile on your lips wasn’t showing through in your voice.

“You would, too! You brought it up first!” Jae accused, but you could hear the laughter behind his words, and it made your smile grow wider.

“Wow, what a great friend you are,” you replied with teasing sarcasm.

“What the hell, man,” Jae chuckled. “Be quiet.”

This was exactly what you loved about having Jae as a friend. The two of you could go from talking about serious issues one minute to laughing and teasing each other about robot clones the next. He could comfort you and distract you. Help you and amuse you. You truly valued your friendship with him -- more than anything, really.

...Were his romantic feelings going to put a wrench in that? Even though he promised it wouldn’t?

Surprisingly, after you hung up with Jae, you did manage to get some sleep. Only a few hours, but it was enough to have a dream.

And... what a dream it had been.

While some parts had been kinda weird -- as dreams usually were -- the main plot had been that...

Well.

Jae had been your boyfriend.

Holding hands, cuddling, hugging, kissing... the whole deal.

You knew you’d had a dream like this because Jae had admitted he was starting to develop feelings for you, so the idea of being in a romantic relationship with him had been introduced into your brain.

But... did that explain the fact that you woke up feeling... really... nice? That you didn’t want the dream to end? That you wanted to go back to sleep and continue on living that scenario of Jae being your boyfriend?

And did it explain the fact that you spent basically the entire workday thinking about it? And basically the entire rest of the week? And most likely the upcoming weekend?

Well, at least you hadn’t been overthinking and worrying about all the work you needed to get done (which you did get done, by the way). And your dad had called you on Friday afternoon after your mom’s doctor’s appointment, saying she was just fine, so there was that, too.

But as you left work on Friday evening, you found that finishing your workload and receiving good news about your mom’s health only freed up your mind to think even more about your Jae Boyfriend dream.

This was not good.

And it was not good mainly because Fridays were your “Hang out with Jae in the evening” days. It had become tradition sometime last year, and since then, you’d hardly ever missed a week. If you told him you couldn’t make it tonight -- just a few days after he’d confessed his developing feelings for you -- wouldn’t that be just a bit too obvious? Even though your reason for skipping would actually be... not that?

No, you had to hang out with him tonight as you usually did. You had to pretend like everything was as it usually was.

So, when your phone started vibrating as you headed toward the bus stop, a small smile tugged at your lips and you answered without hesitating.

“What are we ordering tonight?” you asked in lieu of a greeting.

“I was thinking chicken,” Jae answered. “Sound good?”

“Absolutely. Just make sure I get my potato wedges this time,” you warned, only half-teasing. The restaurant had forgotten them last time, and while you thoroughly enjoyed the chicken itself, your meal would have been that much better with potato wedges.

Jae chuckled softly, and the sound made your heart do this weird little flippy thing. And the thought of his smile made it flip even more.

“Don’t worry, I will make sure they include your potato wedges -- on penalty of death.”

“Much appreciated. I’m almost to the bus stop, and the bus is pulling up, so I gotta go. See you soon?”

“Yeh,” he murmured. “Safe travels.”

“Bye!” you chirped before quickly hanging up and picking up the pace so you could make it to the stop on time.

As soon as you sat down on the bus after scanning your card, you got out your phone again and pulled up your favorite game. If you simply sat on the bus all the way to Jae’s place with nothing to distract you, you would start thinking about your dream again. And you had to do everything you possibly could to not think about your dream right before you saw him. If you, in any way, held the image of Jae being your boyfriend in your mind when you arrived for your weekly hangout, you felt like you would be giving him false hope.

Jae was too precious to you to do that.

But... even though you focused all of your energy on your phone game the entire bus ride... as soon as Jae opened the door and grinned at you, the imagery from your dream -- your warm, glorious, wonderful dream -- came rushing back to you.

You remembered what it had felt like to hug him. To hold his hand. To kiss him.

“Y/N, you okay?” Jae asked with a slightly furrowed brow.

You jumped a little, not realizing you had been standing there staring as everything about your dream had filled your mind.

“Y--yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, sorry. Just... long week.”

Jae opened the door wider, and you stepped through, hanging your bag and jacket up on the hooks by his door.

“Have you heard from your parents yet?” he asked as he gently closed the door behind you.

“Oh! Yes, my -- my dad called me just before I left work,” you told him. “All her tests came back fine, so the doctor said there’s nothing to worry about.”

Jae left out a soft sigh of relief, and your heart clenched at the sound of it -- in a good way. He was just such a sweet person to care so much about your mom. How had you never realized how sweet he was?

“The chicken will be here soon,” he told you, once again interrupting your thoughts. “Wanna game while we wait?”

You raised your eyebrows slightly and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

Jae headed over to his couch then, and you followed suit, perching on the cushion next to him and reaching for your favorite game controller on the coffee table.

He barely even got to the start menu of your collectively favorite game before he stopped and turned toward you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You jerked a little with surprise and glanced over at him.

“...What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong, I can tell. It’s not your mom... is it work?”

“No -- no, everything’s fine,” you assured him.

Jae let out another sigh -- this one not of relief but of minor annoyance -- and set down his controller, leaving the start menu playing over and over again on the television screen.

“Come on,” he urged. “I know something’s bothering you. And we tell each other everything. I told you something I would’ve rather not told you... You can trust me, and I want to help.”

You furrowed your brow down at the controller in your hands, your fingers gently running over the buttons without actually pressing them.

He had a point. A pretty good one.

So, just like he had a few days ago, you blurted out your answer. “I had a dream the other night where we were dating and it felt really nice and I’m sure it was just because of what you told me but it still felt really nice and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and now I just kind of want to kiss you to see what it actually feels like but I don’t want to give you false hope or anything because I really don’t know --”

“It’s okay,” Jae interjected, though his tone was far more casual than you would’ve expected.

You paused, furrowing your brow even more and turning your head to look over at him. “...What’s okay?”

“You can totally kiss me,” he replied with a shrug. “I don’t mind, and I won’t automatically think we’re together. I’m an adult! I know how these things work!”

“...Are you sure?” you asked warily.

“Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss, nothing more.”

Well, this was something you never knew about Jae -- though it wasn’t surprising considering the two of you had never discussed kissing before.

You stared at him for a few moments more, and then... before you lost your nerve... you went for it.

You leaned in and swiftly captured his lips, moving your hands to cradle his face.

At first, you thought you didn’t really feel anything. Your lips were on his, gently pulling and sucking on them, but... that was it. But then you felt his arms slide around your waist. He pulled you just a little bit closer. He clutched at the back of your shirt. He delicately caressed the small of your back with his thumb.

And your heart and stomach and lungs and basically everything in your body went wild. There was fluttering and somersaulting and leaping. You couldn’t tell if your heart was up in your throat or down in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if there were a billion small butterflies flying around in there or if it was just one giant dragon. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to stop immediately or keep kissing you forever.

...Okay, that was a total lie. You definitely wanted him to keep kissing you forever.

And that thought, ironically enough, made you pull away. You searched his face as you continued to cradle it in your palms, trying to both catch your breath and think of something to say.

Luckily, Jae beat you to it.

“...Did it feel as nice as in your dream?” he murmured.

You nodded.

“So... what do you wanna do?”

That was a very good question.

What did you want to do?

Slowly, you let your hands fall from his face, but your eyes never left his for even a millisecond. It was like you were hoping the answer to that question was somewhere in his eyes, and if you just kept looking, eventually you would find it.

But, of course, you didn’t. So, you simply responded with a question of your own.

“You really do... have feelings for me?”

A very attractive smirk tugged at one corner of Jae’s lips before he said, “Yeah. I do.”

“Like -- really and truly? Because the last thing I want is to eventually ruin our friendship --”

Jae interrupted you by ducking in and briefly pressing his lips to yours.

“Really and truly,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

And... for some reason, that was all you needed to hear. Trust me. Because you did trust him. You knew you could because he had always been there for you. He had always been by your side whether or not you needed him to be.

So, you nodded. You tipped your chin in a very tiny nod, and when the loveliest smile spread across Jae’s mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging in yet another kiss.

Except a knock on his front door cut through the air before you had the chance to actually kiss him, and Jae sprung off the couch to go answer it.

You knew it had to be the chicken delivery, so you called out after him. “Make sure they brought my potato wedges!”

“On penalty of death!” he replied just before he opened the door.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling, and a thought rushed into your mind -- the thought that your late night, can’t sleep phone conversations would probably be pretty different from now on.

I mean... you would probably still talk about robot clones and dinosaurs and the Mandela Effect and soulmates and all that. You would still tell each other everything. You would still listen to each other and be there for each other.

So... never mind. Your conversations wouldn’t be all that different. Just everything else would.

And you knew now it wasn’t false hope. It was very real, and... it was perfect.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Love, Learned

Seventeen

She’s never been more sore, but if this is the price she has to pay to be thoroughly fucked by her husband she'll gladly do it again. She’s lost count of how many times he made her cum last night, their room is in disarray with chairs knocked over and sheets on the floor. She shifts on her side to look at him, the motion makes her ache, she’s definitely not ready to start the day yet. Feeling the bed move, his eyes slowly open as his hands reach for her. He whispers a soft good morning, she corrects him, it’s well past noon. He leans in to kiss her, she has to stop him when he pushes her on her back. As much as she wants him, it’s been way too long since she’s had sex to go for another marathon.

“Someone’s eager, I thought you would be tired by now.”

“I always want you.”

“This is so unfair.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t think I have it in me to go again. I don’t even know how I’m going to get out of bed.”

“I was that good huh?”

“You’re so annoying. Get away from me.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“Keep running your mouth like that and you’re going to get into trouble.”

“How do you plan on punishing me?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out… it’s Thursday, don't you have to go to work?”

“They’ll be fine without me.”

“Do my ears deceive me? You’re going to take another day off? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“I take time off.”

“You’re worse than me when it comes to work.”

“That’s not true at all, do you know how many times I stayed up late to wait for you to come home?”

“I don’t even wait for you.”

“I know, you’re usually asleep by the time I get home.”

“I need my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already the most beautiful woman I know.”

“Aww, I’m still not waiting for you to go to sleep.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“Now get going, you’re already late.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Probably nothing, everyone’s left by now. I still haven’t given you your birthday present.”

“You mean you got me an actual gift?”

“Why do you look so surprised? Did you think I slept with you to get out of giving you an actual present? I’m not that kind of wife, besides I would’ve worn some nice lingerie if I wanted to seduce you.”

“I wouldn’t be against the idea…”

“You’re such a pervert, why did I marry you again?”

“Apparently for my money.”

“Oh, that’s right. You better get on it then. I’ll see you tonight.”

“So you’ll wait for me?”

“I will try.”

Three simple words, not even a real commitment but it’s enough for his eyes to light up. He smiles leaning in for another kiss before he finally gets up from bed. He’s in a chipper mood, taking his time to get ready for work. She smiles watching him, he’s so easy to please. She feels bad for him sometimes, he’s the perfect husband but she’s definitely not the perfect wife. Staring up at the ceiling, her mind wanders. Where exactly do they stand? They crossed the line she was so adamant about keeping, they’re practically a real married couple now. What’s going to happen once this is all over? It’ll be fine, so what they had sex? It’s not like they’ll catch feelings and make it into a big deal. They’re two consenting adults, and that’s that. There’s nothing more to it.

He’s home early for once, she’s surprised to see him walk in the door after barely working half a shift. She calls him out on it, he shrugs it off since it was a slow day. She doesn’t believe him, not with his luck, still he is the boss so he can make his own schedule. She goes to retrieve his present, a watch she had engraved with his initials. He immediately puts it on, taking his old one off, thanking her for the gift. She starts for the kitchen to finish preparing their dinner, he follows her wrapping his arms around her waist. She has to swat his hands away when they begin to roam, his lips on her neck as he trails kisses along her skin.

“You have a one track mind. Is this why you came home early?”

“Can you blame me? You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of making you mine.”

“I belong to myself Kudo Shinichi, and there’s some things we need to discuss if we’re going to keep having sex.”

“Like?”

“We need to think about protection, I’ll make an appointment to get on the pill again but until then we need condoms. Plan B can’t always come and save the day.”

“I don’t mind the idea of seeing a little you running around our house.”

“Are you insane? We’re not having kids.”

“Why not?”

“Do you hear yourself? If we have a kid, what’s going to happen to them when we get divorced?”

“Why would we get divorced?”

“Because this isn’t real.”

“You don’t think this is real. After last night.”

“It’s just sex, it’s not like we’re in love with each other.”

His demeanor completely changes after hearing what she has to say. He excuses himself leaving her alone, an odd feeling forms in her stomach. Did she say something wrong? She simply told the truth, so then why does she feel so guilty?

Dinner is placed on the table twenty minutes later, just in time for Shinichi to make his entrance in their dining room. He doesn’t seem to be upset anymore, he sets a plastic bag down on one of their extra chairs. Curiosity gets the best of her, she walks over to see what he went out to buy. He looks at her with a sheepish expression when she peeks into the bag, he really does know how to follow instructions. Putting her needs and concerns first, she doesn’t deserve him. She smiles, kisses him on the cheek with a promise they’ll put his new purchases to good use after dinner.

He takes his time undressing her, there’s no frantic need pulling them together. He doesn’t buy her look of innocence at all when he sees what she’s wearing underneath her clothes. A deep purple set barely covering her modesty, it’s satin, criss crossing over her body only to end in a bow upon her chest. It’s basically a long piece of ribbon tied around her, with just one tug it’ll unravel to reveal the present he thought she was referring to this morning.

“Are you my gift too? You’re even wrapped up in a nice bow.”

“Think of it as a bonus, I’ll let you do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if I want you to stop.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with anything I want?”

“Do your worst.”

“All I want… is to please you.”

He’s driving her mad, taking care to slowly undo the ribbon across her body. Placing feather light kisses in his wake, his touch burns her making her wish for more. He’s still fully clothed, she remedies this as her hands work to remove the layers between them. She pulls him closer when he sets his sight on her lips, soft lingering kisses sending butterflies to her stomach. This is vastly different from their first night together, he’s torturing her with this agonizing buildup. This isn’t what she had in mind when she gave him permission to go at his own pace. She finally gets some relief when she feels his fingers probe at her entrance, an appreciative hum slips past her lips as he inserts a single digit followed by a second. His mouth hasn’t stopped their assaults on her neck, sucking on her skin but not hard enough to leave a trace. She still has reminders he left behind from last night, he didn’t seem to care about who could see them leaving his mark on her body. His fingers curl as he inserts a third, moving in and out of her with his thumb circling her clit. She’s so close, but all too suddenly he stops; removing himself from her. She whines, hand clutching his arm in a death grip, eyes telling him if he leaves her hanging then he won’t hear the end of it. He smiles, letting her know she doesn’t need to worry, and brings his previous preoccupied hand for a taste. She bites down on her lip remembering the feel of those fingers inside of her, he’s purposely trying to make her suffer. Well two can play at that game, except he pushes her down on her back hovering over her as if he knew what she was planning to do. She huffs out in annoyance, he tells her to be patient. Pressing light kisses over the valley of her breasts, down her abdomen, dipping lower until he rests between her legs that have widened to make room for him. He places a soft kiss on her inner thigh, gently blowing air as he ventures to the one place she’s been dying for him to get to. Another kiss, the curl of his lips against hers, she shudders when he licks her slit in one long stride. His memory serves him well, knowing how much pressure he should use with the tip of his tongue as he continues to taste her. His movements are delicate, until he sucks on her clit making her hips buck up. He does it again, but with the addition of his fingers easily sliding inside of her from how wet she is. It doesn’t take long for her to fall apart with his name on her lips as he makes sure not to let a single drop of her juices go to waste. Pushing himself up to meet her dazed expression, he checks in asking if she’s alright.

“I would feel better with you inside of me.”

“That can be arranged.”

Reaching to grab one of the aluminum foil packages he just bought, he opens it to roll it over his cock. She admires his restraint, choosing to satisfy her needs first while holding back on his desires. She can see the precum leaking from his tip, she licks her lips, next time she’ll make sure to return the favor. He pushes into her slowly inch by inch, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him stretching her out. She lets out the breath she was holding when he bottoms out, his movements are slow, afraid he’ll hurt her if he comes on too strong. She hasn’t fully recovered from their previous activities, but she’s no longer aching, telling him as such to encourage him to move faster. He only picks up the pace slightly, pulling all the way out of her then pushing back inside, their hips working in harmony chasing their release. His hands roam over her body in an effort to memorize every curve, hers bring him forward to claim his lips in a kiss. Their rhythm becomes out of sync the closer he is to finishing, he reaches down to touch her bundle of nerves to pull her with him. He fucks her through her orgasm before collapsing on top of her. She doesn’t mind the weight of him, but he’s quick to remove himself in case she feels suffocated. He kisses her again before setting off to dispose of the used condom. She snuggles into his side the moment he slips back into bed, it’s the first time she initiates cuddling.

“You know, any other guy would’ve asked to live out a fantasy… but you Shinichi? You wanted to take it slow. Were you worried I wasn’t ready to have sex again?”

“Who says I wasn’t living out a fantasy?”

“Who were you thinking of then?”

“What?”

“You must have been imagining someone else.”

“There’s no one else, Shiho. I told you before, I only want you.”

“Keep talking like that and you’re going to be late to work tomorrow.”

“Is that a promise? I can think of a few more things to say…”

“I’d rather you show me.”

He kisses her again, she smiles against his lips. She’s never been more happy, especially when she feels his hands dip lower. Honestly, what did she do to deserve him?

Also available on ao3 <3

[officialwittek]

pt. 5

*texts are fake, but these are mine* 

word count: 1,966

I have to be dreaming right? There’s no way on god’s green earth that he knows. I can’t believe he heard our conversation. I want to die in a hole. I look at the time and it’s nearly 3:00am. so I can’t call my friends since they’re all asleep. I toss and turn for what feels like years before slowly drifting to sleep

--

*the next day*

The rest of the girls decided to join us for lunch as well, I quickly get dressed and knock on Carly’s door to let her know that I’m ready. She comes out almost immediately and we both head to the restaurant in my car. I can tell she knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t ask the entire ride. We spot our other friends in a corner booth in the back and make our way over. We make small talk and lay out our schedules for the day.

“So... Sage, what happened last night?” Natalie asks, a concerned look on her face, our friends look at her in confusion

“Todd got a call from Jeff at like three in the morning. Is everything ok?” she repeats, I make a face and that’s all they need to know

“Oh my god, he knows doesn’t he..” Erin asks, I nod and feel tears welling in my eyes

“Yea.. it fucking sucks man. He basically told me that he only sees me as a friend and that he’s not over his fucking ex-girlfriend who only used him.. And it’s not like we were dating but I was so.. so in love with him” I reply, letting the tears fall as Corinna rubbed my shoulders and my other friends grabbed my hands

“And now I’m afraid things are going to be awkward when we all hang out together. I never ever wanted that, I don’t want anyone to feel like they need to chose between us like children during their parents divorce” I cry, letting all my emotions out, I’ve never been more thankful that we chose a small, quiet restaurant where we’re the only people here

“No, come on. I’m sure if you explain the situation to everyone they would totally understand” Carly explained, the other girls nodding in agreement

“I can’t.. I can’t explain to them. I don’t know how to put it into words and I don’t want them to be mad at Jeff. He’s their friend too and I know how protective everyone can be at times” I rant, they all nod along, their eyebrows furrowed as they think of something else

“Well, to be honest none of us had anything to do today. Why don’t we go back to your apartment and have another girl’s day? Get your mind off things and we’ll get all the takeout and listen to sad music” Erin suggests, I nod and ask Nat to text Mariah

After lunch we head back to the apartment. I feel like 1:00 pm. is an appropriate time to have some vodka right? I mean it’s 5:00 somewhere. I grab the bottle of Titos from my cabinet and pour it into a cup with some sprite and a lime. I made some for the girls and they all took a glass. We browse through Netflix and choose some Disney movies to watch. We started with the Princess and the Frog.

Four movies later and my phone started buzzing. Matt and Zane were asking where we all were because they were bored and David was busy editing and doing other work. I decided to let them come because they were like one of the girls. They showed up with Mariah and more alcohol.

“So baby what happened?” Mariah asks, I told her I wanted to wait until I could tell her in person

I explained the situation to the three of them, Mariah was incredibly irritated at Jeff, Matt and Zane were also pretty upset as well. I also explained how I didn’t want to make things awkward for everyone in the group and they shouldn’t have to feel like they have to choose between the two of us.

We ordered food for everyone and made more drinks. Out of no where Heath came by with Jason and Toddy. I hoped and prayed Jeff wouldn’t show up, not only because I’m heartbroken but because of the embarrassment I would have to feel.

An hour later everyone was pretty drunk except for Jason, Carly, and Erin who decided to stay sober for everyone who will probably need a ride home later. We were all laughing and having a great time, David hauled ass over here when he heard Zane and I were drunk.

“Oh fuck I forgot Ilya is landing in like an hour, who wants to come with me to pick him up?” David asks, Natalie and I raise our hands while everyone decides to stay back and just wait for us

The car ride over was us loudly singing along to David’s music. I brought some alcohol with me since I needed to escape and I know Ilya wants to turn the fuck up.

“Daddy Ilya” I yell, trying to catch his attention, David and Natalie groan from behind me at the horrible nickname

Ilya quickly runs to the Tesla and hops into the passenger seat. We drove back to my apartment while David filmed Ilya in the front drinking the rest of my vodka. Natalie grabs my arm and points the familiar truck in the garage...

... Who the fuck invited Jeff...

“What’s wrong princess peach?” Ilya asks, noticing that I was still in the Tesla

Natalie pulled the two guys away and explained as best as she could and as fast as she could. David and Ilya nodded their heads and walked over to me. I had shaken off my rush of anxiety while they were talking. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m upset with him for rejecting me or if I’m upset that he shows up to my apartment and will either pretend I don’t exist or pretend like nothing happened.

“Fuck it. Ilya, it’s your job to make me drunk as hell. Gimme” I said, taking the bottle from him and chugging the rest and using some leftover Red Bull

I unlock the door and step inside. Todd, Jeff, and Zane are in the living room talking... well Zane isn’t really talking and to be fair I don’t really know if he’s in this realm right now. The girls and Matt are all standing in the kitchen, giving Jeff side glares and talking in hushed voices. I close the door loudly to get everyone’s attention. They all turn to me and burst into smiles when the notice Ilya. They all greet him and I walk over to the side, grabbing a cup and making myself another drink.

“Shots for the boy” Todd yells, we all gather in the kitchen and I make sure to stand as far away from Jeff as possible, 90% out of embarrassment and 10% out of annoyance and anxiety

The ones who were drinking take shots and we all start catching up with Ilya. He’s telling us stories about work, and things he’s done with Deema. After a few minutes of catching up, the boys went to the parking lot to film some bits in David’s car. The girls gave me THE look and we went to my room and locked the door. Suzy listened while also keeping an ear out for them so there isn’t a repeat of the other night.

“I love Jeff, he’s one of my good friends.. but what the fuck was his thought process before coming here?” Carly asked, annoyed that not even 24 hours after he rejects me he shows up to my place

“Guys, it’s ok. I know this was supposed to be girls night but it turned into a hangout with everyone. And I’ll get over this eventually, I’ll be fine” I say, the room goes silent, even Suzy knows I’m definitely bullshitting

“I know you’re trying to make yourself feel better and trying to comfort us so we don’t worry about you. But babe... before lunch we didn’t know you were in LOVE love with him. Sure he didn’t know about your feelings, but at the same time I think a part of him had to know that the flirtationship between the two of you would’ve ended with someone catching feelings. It sucks that it has to be you. Please just allow yourself to be honest about how you feel. It sucks, but the sooner you confront your emotions the sooner you can start healing” Natalie said, I stare at her with my mouth ajar

“That’s a whole bible verse baby” I reply, feeling a lot better with this girl time but Suzy gives us a signal that the boys are back

We go to the living room and joke around for a few more minutes. After that everyone packs their things, and right when I’m about to go back in my room to get ready for bed I noticed Jeff lingering around a little bit. I shrug it off and enter my room.

“Hey..” a voice says, I freeze and immediately feel all kinds of emotions rise up, just one word and I’m already sobering up

“What do you want Jeff?” I ask, turning around and seeing him slumped over in my doorway

“I just wanted to check in” he replies, I sigh and sit on my bed

“Listen, I know we’re still friends and I know we don’t want to make things awkward for everyone, but for the sake of me and what I need, I would please like some time away from you. I’m really sorry, but I need to heal, I didn’t just have some middle school crush on you man.” “You don’t need to explain anything to me Sage” Jeff cuts me off but I shake my head and pat the space next to me so he can sit

“I’m in love with you. I wrote songs about you, I started craving your touch, your attention. I still loved you at your worse. Believe me, I wanted to make a move but I had no guarantee that you were going to love me back. And now I know, at the end of the day I’ll never be her” I reply, Jeff immediately knew who I was talking about, Ava

Ava and Jeff were together for a few short months, but believe me when I say this was like walking through a dumpster fire on a unicycle that was also on fire. It was clear to everyone from the start that Ava was with him s imply because he was slowly gaining popularity and well... his looks. Long story short apparently they got into a huge fight one night and she admitted that she was only using him for her own gain. It was a touchy time for all of us and Jeff, we told him what we thought and eventually found out (through our fans on insta who are little detectives) and he didn’t want to hear it.

“I should go. I’ll give you your time..” he says quietly, I nod and walk him to the door

After he leaves I slide my back down the door and pull my knees to my chest. I just lost my best friend because I couldn’t keep my dumbass mouth shut. Emotions come rushing through me and I can’t help but cry. I want nothing more than to scream and just crawl into a hole right now. After letting myself accept the sadness I got up and went back to my room. It’s time for me to start moving on.. or at least trying to.

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

kissed by mist and can dew attitude

pairing: harry styles x reader (farmers market au)

warnings: awkwardness!! shy!baker!harry, mentions of the qu*rantine, drug use, harry's chest hair, giggly, sweet high sex, some dirty talk :) unprotected sex

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: harry is an idiot, and y/n is a bit of a tease

author’s note: you can read this for a little background to this au (but it’s not really necessary; i tend to over explain things anyway, so you can get a pretty good understanding just from this) literally no one asked for this, but market season is coming up again, and i missed writing about these two :( hope you enjoy! xx

masterlist

—

Harry is so tired of being cooped up in this house.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves staying home.

He is normally the introvert that puts all other introverts to shame. He loves staying at home, he loves hiding away after a stressful day at work, he goes out of his way to not talk to anyone while he’s out, and he very rarely ever goes out on the weekends. He loves just being able to stay at home, relax, and not worry about anyone bothering him.

But, at a certain point, it becomes too much; now, he just wants to get out, go for a walk, go to the grocery store, talk to someone other than Y/N, just do something, anything, other than staying at home. Yes, it’s for a good reason, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for the illness spreading, but it’s also straining on his mental, physical, and financial health.

He honestly wants to go back to work.

Since this entire situation started, Harry has only had a couple of shifts at The Sweet Spot, since, apparently, cafes are “essential businesses”, but the nutrition store next door isn’t (the world definitely has their priorities straight). Honestly, it was kind of nice; he didn’t have to schmooze any customers, since he only saw the delivery drivers. There was the occasional ignorant person who would come up to the doors and pull on them, despite the very clear signs saying that they were not open to the public, only to find them locked, and Harry very happily told them to go away.

However, Marty couldn’t afford to have him take up any more shifts, which he completely understands, so he’s been stuck home for weeks.

Needless to say, both he and Y/N have been getting a little stir crazy.

They tried to keep a somewhat healthy lifestyle in the beginning, hiking the nearby trails or walking at the park, but everything started to become too crowded. They even went cycling, but Harry proved to be even more of a klutz on a bike than on his own two feet, resulting in a bump on his head and a scraped elbow, which is still healing beneath a floral printed plaster.

Y/N’s had some failed experiments, leading to several four-hour kitchen clean-ups, and she also started a “Fermentation Station”, with dozens of glass jars filled with fermenting fruits and teas, the smell of yeast strong in the air. She was so proud of herself the first time she made carbonated water from things they already had in the house (“Look, Harry, it’s so convenient”). She ended up adding more and more things to her collection. They argued about it for a couple of days before she finally settled and moved her jars to the back porch after the kitchen started smelling like alcohol.

While Y/N has her experiments, Harry stress-bakes. He can’t even count how many loaves of bread, fruit pastries, cookies, and cakes he has made. He made crepes using sourdough starter. That’s how bored he’s been. He waited five whole days for his starter to mature, just to make four crepes between himself and Y/N.

But, there’s only so many things to do before you’ve completely run out of ideas.

On this particularly boring day, it’s two in the afternoon before they finally get out of bed, no thanks to their terrible sleep schedules, and they move onto the couch, which is officially broken in after how many hours they’ve spent on it. It’s sunny outside, bright and warm, the bright light beaming through the large bay windows in the living room, making staying inside even worse.

Y/N convinces him to paint his fingernails (and not just his toenails), and he happily indulges her. It’s nice feeling pampered for once, and whenever Y/N gets into her let’s-have-a-spa-day moods, she goes all out. While his toenails, painted with a pretty green color called Can Dew Attitude and a shimmery top coat on them, dried, she put some all-natural mud mask on his face, that bubbled and seeped into his skin.

“This is great for your pores,” she says as she puts a lukewarm cloth on his mask. “Not that you have bad skin. It’s better than mine, you ass.”

He just smiles, feeling the clay crack, and leans into her touch. She’s gentle, waiting until most of it is soft and pliable before she wipes it away. As she dries his face, with a towelette that smells like lavender and honey, his freshened skin, flushed and smooth, glows in the afternoon sun, his pretty eyes magnified behind a pair of thick, black framed glasses. Y/N sits across from him, her leg tucked up underneath her with his hand steady on her knee.

“It’s not gonna, like,” he pauses, glancing warily at his nails, “poison you or anything, right?”

“What?” She laughs, putting an oil around his cuticles. He leans forward, watching her carefully. He readjusts the headband, inadvertently pushing it back a little too far, until some curls slip onto his forehead. She hits the bottle of Kissed by Mist against her palm, the pale pink polish making a nice ticking sound. She starts on his nails, but not before making a comment about how cute his little pinkie is, which makes him flustered.

“It’s not gonna poison you when I, ya know, like… when I…”

He motions with his free hand, grouping his ring and middle fingers together and curling them, and he bites on his cheek, brows furrowed, trying to see any changes in her expression. He stops and shakes his head, a frail blush creeping up to his ears.

“By the way you’re reacting, ‘m assuming it’s not a thing,” he sighs.

“No, the polish will not poison me when you finger—“

“Shh,” he hushes her, pressing his hand against her lips. She pushes him away.

“Harry, we are the only ones here,” she says, finishing his right hand.

“Ya know what that mouth does to me,” he mutters.

“Really? You get turned on when I say, ‘finger me’?”

“Ya know I do,” he pouts, grappling for her. His hands twist the thick cotton of her jumper for only a second before she’s scooting away, swatting at him.

“No, H, your nails are still wet,” she says, and he groans, sinking back into the couch cushions.

“So bored.”

“Everyone is,” she says, filing down his left thumb nail.

“Wanna get high?”

He just wants to stop this feeling of absolute boredom. It’s better since Y/N is here with him, but it’s getting to a certain point where he’s willing to do just about anything to feel, well, anything.

One night, they tried her “prison wine”, which was just cranberry cocktail and yeast that fermented for a couple of days; it tasted worse than it sounds. It did, however, get them very drunk, and they woke up the next morning with pounding headaches, upset stomach, and purple stained lips. It was honestly the worst hangover he’s ever had, and he vowed to never try it again.

Getting stoned has then become a regular thing. On those horribly boring nights where they had absolutely nothing to do, where they’ve both been on the couch for hours, not being able to find the willpower to move, and on those nights where they just wanted to feel and simply be elsewhere, they found solace in the warming daze.

She grins.

“Sure, I think we still have some gummies,” she says, moving toward their “special” drawer in the side table.

“Only a half this time, lovie,” he says as she turns back, and she rolls her eyes.

“They were a lot stronger than the other ones,” she says, ripping the poorly stuck tape from the plastic packaging.

“I know,” he smiles, popping the candy in his mouth. She sits back down beside him, her leg thrown over his lap. He moves his hand dangerously close to her inner thigh, his fingers dancing along the length of her thigh until they reach the hem of her panties, tugging at the material until it snaps back. He’s so close to feeling her warmth, if only he moves just a little further, but she yanks his hand back, puts it on her knee, and gives him a smug little smile, continuing her work.

It takes an hour, or two more coats of nail polish, for the edibles to kick in, but when they do, Harry thinks he pissed himself. Forgetting about Y/N’s leg across his lap, he mistakes her warmth as pee, and he jerks up, jolting her. She looks up at him, blinking. There’s a strip of white polish on the side of his thumb.

“You are so good at this,” he says slowly. He honestly couldn’t imagine painting such tiny details if he were sober; he doesn’t know how she’s doing it stoned. She’s swaying and blinking slowly, but she looks focused, her brows furrowed.

“You’re good at this,” she mumbles.

“What?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s easy if I can concentrate.” Her eyes flicker up to his, a smirk curled over her lips.

“‘M I distracting you?” He raises a brow.

“I can feel your cock,” she says.

“Please, don’t say cock while you’re touching my cock,” he says, readjusting his growing bulge. She just chuckles and moves her foot along his boxers, where his semi and the top of his thighs connect. His hips twitch.

She barely caps the nail polish before she tosses it to the side and straddles him. He cups her hips, the fact that his nails are still wet long gone from both of their minds. She holds him by the neck, tilting his head back. Before she can capture his lips, he hesitates, his hands tracing along her thighs.

“Are you sure?”

Even though they’re practically living together at this point and have had sex plenty of times, he can’t help but ask her that same question every time. He’s never been one to feel secure in himself, and to have someone who is so open and willing to trust him, it’s overwhelming and intimidating sometimes.

“Of course, H,” she says, nibbling at his bottom lip, and then, he kisses her, fully and profoundly. He could just melt into her, his senses consumed by her warmth and love. He wouldn’t go as far as saying that the sex is better than when they’re sober. It’s great all the time, but there’s something about being high, with his skin buzzing and all of his senses heightened yet dulled at the same time, that makes the experience different. It’s different because he’s not worried about what he’s doing and saying; he’s focusing on the feeling, all of the sensations and simply her.

She tries to pull his shirt over his head, but it gets caught on the chain around his neck, and she tugs a little too hard, yanking it tightly around his throat.

“Easy, Y/N,” he laughs, holding onto her wrists. “I know you’re eager to get me naked, but I think you forget that I am also precious cargo.” Her lips sink into a pout, and he’s able to get the shirt off, throwing it off to the side, his headband going with it.

“You are precious,” she says, squishing his cheeks together. She cups the back of his neck and pecks his lips, gentle and loving. “Love these little baby hairs,” she says, running her hand over his skin, teasing and tugging on his chest hairs.

“They’re not baby hairs,” he says, pouting. He teases his hands along her hips, nails digging into her fleshy skin. “I am a man.”

“Oh, I know,” she chuckles, feeling his hips jerk up, pressing his swelling bulge into her. He wraps his arms around her waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of her back, and nestles his face into her chest. She shifts further up on his lap, fingers carding through his soft hair. Being far too lazy to take it off, he sucks on her breasts through her worn tee, her nipples hardening in his teeth. She pushes his boxers down and readjusts herself over him, rubbing her clothed pussy along his pulsing cock. She tugs her panties to the side, and he moans at the sudden warmth, her arousal coating him.

“You like that?” She asks breathily, rocking her hips faster. “Like feeling me drip onto your cock?”

“What if I just—” She teases the head of his cock, just barely pushing him inside before she pulls out. He can barely make a sound, his throat tightening when

“You like it when I tease your cock? Can feel you throbbing.” Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of him just breaking past the barrier of her tightness. “So needy for me, bubba.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he moans.

“Tell me, babe.” She holds him by the jaw, the pads of her fingers pressing perfectly into his pressure points, and he struggles for breath, making his head even lighter and obscured. He grins. “Tell me how much you love my pussy,” she says as she sinks fully onto him, her walls swallowing him easily.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and drawn out. His head falls onto the couch cushions, eyes closing to savor the feeling of her gripping him, but she pulls him back, forcing him to keep eye contact. “I love it; love you more, though,” he says.

“Say it,” she coos.

He blushes, heat spreading from his chest to the tip of his ears. He has never been vocal when it comes to sex; he always gets flustered and anxious when having a normal conversation, so he couldn’t even imagine how how awkward he would be while trying to talk dirty. It’s even more difficult because of how much she’s teasing him, slow and languid movements up and down his cock, his head just barely inside her before she comes back down, her hips grinding against his. She has this look in her hooded eyes, a lustful and greedy look, that’s telling him to give in to his instincts.

“Love y-your pussy, baby,” he moans.

“Yeah?” She starts riding him faster, her walls milking him. He groans. “Tell me how it feels, H.” She smirks, like an actual full blown, teasing smirk; she knows exactly how good she’s making him feel. She likes seeing him so flustered and babbly and incoherent.

“So fucking good, so warm and wet, perfect for me, lovie,” he says, and she grins, teeth bared. She kisses him, messily and harshly. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, stilling her hips, and a hand travels up the length of her spine, beginning at the curve of her bum, dipping momentarily beneath her large tee, before moving up to the back of her neck, pressing her lips tighter to his. He cradles her head while he moves onto the floor, but it’s not nearly as graceful as he hoped it would be. They crash to the ground.

“Oh, god,” she squeals, and her walls squeeze him painfully tight. Her nails dig into his back.

“Wha’s wrong?” He wipes the sweat from his forehead, fingers raking through his hair.

“No, no,” she stutters, hands moving onto the swell of his ass, keeping him still. “You’re so deep.”

He swears his arms are going to give out at the sound of her sweet little whisper, her voice weak and broken.

“H-how deep?”

He can’t help the break in his voice, and embarrassment floods him. He’s honestly trying his hardest to sound sexy, but he just sounds like an idiot.

“As deep as the ocean,” she mumbles, and she looks so positively fucked, out of it and dazed with hooded eyes; he honestly doesn't even think she realizes what she said because when he starts laughing, she gives him the cutest look, her brows furrowed, lips curled. “What?”

“Congrats,” he says, leaning back and onto his knees, his arms curled under her thighs, knees hooked over his arms. “You almost just made me go soft. Never done that before.”

“Shut up,” she says, grinding her hips into him. His thrusts start slow, deliberate, but the more she reacts to him, the more she bucks and grinds, the faster they become, until he can’t anymore, driving his cock in with fast, precise thrusts.

“You look so good like this,” he says, groping her breasts over her tee, nipples swollen and hard. They move with every thrust of his hips.

“Thanks, it’s the shirt,” she says breathily, a weak smile on her lips. “It covers up all my ugly parts.”

“Tha’s not what I meant,” he says, frowning. He leans over her, hands on either side of her head, and she lets out a weak moan as his cock moves deeper inside her. “Look beautiful all the time.” He genuinely looks sad as he brushes away a bead of sweat from her forehead. “You don’ have to take your shirt off when we have sex, not if you don’ want to. I take it off normally because I thought it would be more comfortable for you, and, le’s be honest, your tits are amazing, and I love seeing your curves and your—”

She suddenly pulls him in for a kiss, ceasing his ramblings. He’s cute when he gets all nervous; despite the fact he’s balls deep inside her, he’s still a worrier. It’s sweet that he’s concerned about how she’s feeling, even though he’s not fully present, with red cheeks and hooded eyes, chest heaving for breath. She raises her hips, grinding up into him, her swollen clit just barely grazing against his abdomen. She clenches around him at the sharp, sudden burst of pleasure.

She raises her feet from the floor, and he presses her knees to her chest. The sound of him fucking himself into her wet cunt fills the air, obscenities and pleasured whimpers joining. Not having the energy to kiss fully, he traces his lips along the curve of her jaw, tender and messy. His thrusts become sharper and deeper, knocking the breath from her lungs with every move of his hips.

“Oh, god, ‘m so fucking wet.” She laughs, feeling through her soaked curls to her throbbing clit. She really is; her arousal drips onto their thighs and into the carpet. Her head spins, burning pleasure building as he grinds into her and spreads her legs further apart.

“Fuckin’ hell—” He whines as she tightens around him, her fingers rubbing her little clit raw.

“‘M gonna come,” she moans, tugging at his hair. “C’mon, baby,” she coos, “want you to—” She swallows thickly, her breathing shallow. Her eyes roll back as she pinches her poor swollen clit, her thighs trembling. She meets his thrusts, eager for her impending orgasm. “Want you to come in me, wanna feel your cum in my—”

She lets out one loud moan, her body trembling and shuddering beneath him as pleasure rushes through her, leaving her limbs tingling and her mind muddled. They bask in the afterglow, their breaths in sync and deep, and he slumps onto her, wrapping his arms around her, tracing his hands over any piece of skin he can. He just wants to savor this feeling, the closeness, the warmth, the tenderness.

Her hand suddenly fishes over to the caramels that Harry made a couple days ago, which have been taunting her in a faux-crystal bowl on the coffee table for the past couple of minutes. The make-shift wax paper wrapper crinkles, and the sound makes him look up, his eyes still hooded, movements languid with exhaustion. He opens his mouth sleepily, and she rips the caramel in half. They both moan at the same time at the taste and fall into a fit of giggles. He moves to his side, his chest pressed to her back, softening cock pressed to the curve of her bum.

“Sorry,” he says, “messed up your art.” He flashes his nails, the pink paint still soft and pliable, littered with nicks and dents and imprints from the couch cushions. She hooks her fingers through his and tugs his hand down to her lips.

“Worth it.”

—

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 20

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Evelyn waits with folded arms for Lucas to arrive, her right foot not stopping tapping against the floor. As soon as her mother had made her aware of what had happened, annoyance had sprung up inside her, growing stronger and stronger. She couldn't believe it. Yet he'd seemed to agree when they'd talked about it days before, had agreed with her that being alone with her mother still didn't seem like a good idea. That more time was needed, testing the waters. She had left relaxed about that at least, but it turned out she had put her trust in the wrong person. Once again.

She jumps from her seat as soon as the doorbell rings, opening the door and finding herself in front of him, his lips widening into a smile as soon as he sees her. Evelyn remembers to breathe as her mother had suggested only moments before, before letting him in. And she takes one last look at Ben quickly passing by before closing the door to the room behind her.

Convincing everyone to stay out of it had been hard especially since they were all still there in the house, but Lucas was her problem and it was up to her to deal with it. No matter what would happen in there or the screams they would hear, until she came out or specifically asked for their help none of them would be welcome inside those four walls.

"How was your trip?" he asked her as he sat on the edge of her bed, his gaze moving around the room before focusing on her.

"I'm sure you know I didn't ask you here to talk about that" she replies harshly at which he shifts his gaze to the cot a little further away from them.

"Listen Evelyn-"

"What's wrong with you? I just asked you for one thing"

"Yeah we always have to do everything you say. Like I'm some kind of puppet you can move around at your pleasure" the boy stood up abruptly approaching the window and putting a few more inches between them while Evelyn froze for a moment, leaning against the desk, quickly recovering though.

"Excuse me? You don't seem to have put up much of a fight"

"It's because... just how much longer are we supposed to go on like this?  With me constantly under examination and you..." the boy runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"With me what? Thinking about my daughter's sake?"

"No you only think about yourself, that's the point! If you really thought about our daughter's sake... you would've done differently"

"Are you for real?" Evelyn scoffs even more incredulously, "You washed your hands of it as soon as I told you I was pregnant. I spent months alone thinking about how things would go, then you come back tell me a few sweet words and hope everything goes back to the way it was?"

"When are you going to let this go? I can't do this"

"Well then do something to make me change my mind!"

"You won't let me!" Lucas emits a guttural sound before crossing the space between them and standing in front of her, their chests rising and falling rhythmically and her stepping back but finding herself even more trapped against the desk.

"Let's start again. Let's put it all behind us" he murmurs, laying a hand on her cheek, shifting his gaze between her eyes and her lips as she shakes her head slightly, swallowing hard.

"I can't"

"Please Eve, please" his face gets closer and closer, he believes she's finally given in when he sees her close her eyes, their lips only millimetres apart. But in no time Evelyn sighs pushing him away.

"You can't do this. It's not fair" Lucas allows himself to be moved by Evelyn's hands pressing his chest lightly, allowing her to put a considerable amount of space between them again.

"Ever since you came back I've never given you false hope. I tried to be open but I was clear, you could come back into her life but not mine"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, no it isn't. We are two completely different people, you are two completely different people to us. And I can't live a life for my daughter, I have to be happy for her to be happy with me"

Lucas sighs going to sit back down on the bed taking his head in his hands. He looks genuinely torn and Evelyn looks at him unsure of what she should do. She doesn't want to keep feeding whatever is going through his mind, but in the end she chooses to approach him anyway by crouching down in front of him.

"Lucas... what's going on?" she places her hands on his knees moving a thumb over the fabric of his trousers, "you can tell me"

There's no need for a lot of words though. She just needs to see his face when he finally pulls his hands away, his red eyes and trembling hands. Evelyn's eyes also fill with tears as she nods knowingly, biting her lip to keep from giving in just then.

"You're free Lucas. But this time... it will be forever. You won't get another chance" her hoarse, trembling voice, full of emotion, comes out in a whisper as she looks up at him, "I can't do this to her again"

Evelyn closes her eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. Her words clashing with what she expects will actually happen.

"I'm sorry" he croaks leaving her a light kiss on one cheek before running out of that room, leaving her on that floor in disbelief and confused and broken again.

-

A week later that day, she had found a letter in the mailbox. She'd ripped it in two as soon as she'd seen who it was from, but from inside that envelope a necklace had fallen out. Lucas wasn't used to wearing jewellery of any kind but she'd recognised that necklace, it was one of his favourites. If not his only one.

So she'd put that piece of paper back together where she finally had some explanation. He wrote that he hadn't meant to make fun of her, that he admired her because in spite of everything she fit into that world and made it seem simpler than it really was, while he simply couldn't see himself as a father. Not yet and maybe never after that. In general it had served to put that chapter aside forever or at least until her little girl would have been old enough to understand it all. She had therefore hidden it with the other stuff without telling anyone, thinking it was better that way.

Evelyn hadn't given too many explanations about the moment after everyone had seen Lucas run off visibly upset. It was as if from the moment he'd closed that door behind her, something inside her had snapped too. She didn't care, or maybe she felt so many things to just erased them all and made her feel one big emptiness inside. And everyone in the house seemed to be waiting for her to burst out at any moment.

But she had rolled her sleeves up and got on with her life. She had no power in the decisions and lives of others, everyone does what they feel and it's only necessary to find a way so that whatever happens does not affect us so much. As absurd as it sounded given her history, she would stop dwelling on things too much. If we give too much importance to something or someone it will sooner or later end up hurting us, on the contrary if we don't expect anything, it might surprise us.

It was a first step, it needed a lot of work but she had to think about the present. She was going to choose her battles from that moment on, spending energy only on those who really deserved it. Her daughter, her family and Jack for example.

Time had passed slowly but also so quickly, taking away the last days of the year and starting a new one. Now, more than ever, it was time to make new resolutions, make room for new things and try to do better, always.

That time in their household had always been very chaotic, trying to fit everything in with Ben's busy schedule was always a challenge. But that was what she liked the most, it wasn't a specific day that was special but the whole period. The atmosphere created when everyone got together. It didn't matter if it was two days before Christmas or if it had already been, if they had spoken the day before or if they hadn't heard from each other in months. That day had the power to relax her in a way nothing ever could in her life, and between the confusion and the chatter, time passed without her noticing.

But if so far she had only had to deal with one busy agenda, now there were two of them. Jack had the same or even more workload than Ben and on top of that there was the distance factor.

They had seen little of each other, spending together a day here half a day there at the earliest possible opportunity, time that always seemed to pass quickly when they were together. Seeing each other like this, always in a rush, was in a way worse than not seeing each other at all. Having a taste and nothing more only left a bitter taste at the end of the day.

So one evening out of nowhere she made a decision. She had been lying in bed reading a book, Cece already sleeping soundly, when her mind had started to wonder. She and Jack had agreed that they didn't want to spend another rushed day together just because they had to, he'd have an away game anyway and she'd want to spend her daughter's first Christmas with her family now more than ever.

And she had smiled as she closed the book, occupying the next few hours filling a suitcase with things that she, and the little one especially, might need for a short trip but still with no clear return date for the time being.

She got this feeling in her chest, a mixture of happiness and excitement that would make her jump and clap her hands and laugh uncontrollably for no apparent reason. She hadn't felt this way for so long, she had to admit, and it felt good.

She forces herself to get some rest and in the early hours, after feeding Cece, she heads over to Ben's. The boy sleeps on his side and immediately lets out a sigh as she shakes him lightly.

"Ben" she strokes his hair, crouching down in front of him as he opens his eyes slightly, "I'm going to Jack's. I'll get the car okay?" he mumbles something sketching a smile and closing his eyes as she smiles leaving him a kiss on his cheek before packing up the last of her things and leaving. She leaves him a note on the table for some extra reassurance, just in case, before getting into the car taking one last look at her little girl in the rear view mirror and finally driving off.

----

Hi everyone, I hope you like the chapter. I just wanted to tell you that I've decided about the bonus chapters I was telling you about last week to write them down and publish them at the end all together so as not to create too much confusion x

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 21

[yumeka36]

The Frozen 2 prequel novel, “Dangerous Secrets: The Story of Iduna and Agnarr,” is scheduled to release on November 3rd. A preview excerpt was just released via this article from Insider.com. I pasted it below, with my thoughts following:

---

THE STORM IS GETTING WORSE.

Lightning slashes across an angry black sky, soon followed by the crash of thunder. Waves pound against the ship's hull as I grip the wooden rail with white knuckles. Fierce gusts of wind tug my hair free from its braid, and damp brown strands whip at my face. I don't dare let go to brush them away.

Instead, I keep my eyes on the sea. Looking for her.

In some ways, I've spent my entire life looking for her. And tonight, my journey may finally come to an end. Unfinished. Unfound.

Ahtohallan. Please! I need you!

Perhaps she never existed at all. Perhaps she was simply a myth. A silly song to lull children to sleep. To make them feel safe and secure in a world that's anything but. Perhaps I was a fool to think we could simply go and seek her out. Learn the mother's secrets.

I do know something about a mother's secrets.

Another wave sweeps in, bashing against the ship's hull, sending a spray of icy seawater splashing at my face. I stumble backward, momentarily blinded by the salt stinging my eyes. A strong pair of hands clamps down on my hips; a solid chest at my back keeps me upright.

I turn, already knowing whom I'll find standing tall behind me. The man who has been with me almost my entire life. The man who has made me laugh—and cry—more than anyone else in the world. My husband. The father of my daughters. My enemy. My friend.

My love.

Agnarr, king of Arendelle.

"Come, Iduna," he says, pulling me around to face him. He reaches out, clasping my hands in his. They are as warm and strong as mine are cold and trembling.

I look up, taking in the sharp line of his jaw. The fierceness in his leaf-green eyes. If he's frightened, he's not showing it. "We need to go below deck," he says, shouting to be heard over the furious wind. "Captain's orders. It's not safe up here. One rogue wave could knock you overboard."

I feel a sob rise to my throat. I want to lash out, protest the orders. I'm fine. I can take care of myself. I'm not some silly girl frightened by the elements.

But what I really want to say is, I can't leave. I haven't found her yet.

If I go below, I may never find her.

And if I don't . . .

Elsa. My sweet Elsa . . . My dear Anna . . .

Agnarr gives me a pointed look. I sigh, untangling my hands from his, and begin stumbling toward the stairs that lead to our cabin below, on legs unaccustomed to rough seas. I'm almost there when the ship suddenly pitches hard to the left and I lose my footing, grabbing on to the railing to save myself. I can feel a few of the crew watching me with concern, but I push forward, keeping my head held high. I am a queen, after all. There are certain expectations.

Once below, I push open our cabin door and move inside, letting it bang shut behind me. The captain has given us his cabin for the journey, which I insisted wasn't necessary, but I was overruled. It's the only cabin suited for a fine lady, he protested. Because that's how he sees me.

That's how they all see me now. A fine lady. A perfectly poised Arendellian queen.

But now, at last, Agnarr knows the truth.

I ease myself down on the bed, reaching to grab my knitting needles and my half-finished project. An inappropriate task under the circumstances, but perhaps the only thing that might steady my hands—my pounding heart. I can hear Agnarr push open the door, his strong, solid presence filling the room. But I don't look up. Instead, I start to knit as the ship rocks beneath my

feet. It's dark down below, too dark to really see the delicate yarn, but my hands are sure and true, the repetitive motions as natural and familiar to me as taking in air. Yelana would be proud.

Yelana. Is she still out there, in the Enchanted Forest, still locked in the mist?

Only Ahtohallan knows.

Suddenly, I want to throw my needles across the room. Or collapse on the bed in tears. But I do neither, keeping my attention on the unfinished shawl. Forcing myself to let each stitch lull me into something resembling comfort.

Agnarr pulls out a wooden stool from the captain's desk, sitting down across from me. He picks up a corner of the unfinished shawl, running his large fingers across the tiny stitches. I dare to sneak a peek at him, realizing his eyes have become soft and faraway.

"This is the same pattern," he says slowly. And I know what he means without asking. Because of course it is. I hadn't even realized it when I started, but of course it is.

The same pattern as the shawl my mother knitted me when I was a baby.

The shawl that saved his life.

"It's an old Northuldra pattern," I explain, surprised how easily the words leave my mouth now that the truth is known. "Belonging to my family." I pick up his hand and place it on each symbol in turn. "Earth, fire, water, wind." I pause on the wind symbol, thinking back to

Gale. "It was the Wind Spirit who helped me save your life that day in the forest."

He gives a low whistle. "A wind spirit! If only I'd known," he says, reaching up to brush his thumb gently across my cheek. Even after all these years, his touch still sparks a longing ache deep inside, and it's an imperative, not an option, to drop my needles to return the gesture. To run my fingers against the light stubble of his jaw. "It would have made my stories to the girls so much more interesting."

I smile at this. I can't help it. He has always found a way to help me find sunshine amidst the gloomiest of days. It's strange, though, to realize he knows everything now. After a lifetime overshadowed with secrets, it should feel freeing.

But in truth, it still scares me a little, and I find myself glancing at him when he doesn't know I'm looking. Trying to see, trying to know whether the truth has changed his feelings toward me. Does he resent me for keeping so much from him for so long? Or does he truly understand why I did it? If we survive this night, how will things change between us? Will the truth bring us closer together? Or tear us apart?

Only Ahtohallan knows. . . .

I reach out and take Agnarr's hands in mine, meeting his deep green eyes with my blue ones. I swallow down the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me, and force another smile.

"I will never forget that day," I start with a whisper, not sure he can even hear me over the tempest outside. "That horrible, wonderful day."

"Tell me," he whispers back, leaning in close. I can feel his breath on my lips. Our faces are inches away. "Tell me everything."

I swallow all the words that threaten to jump out of my throat in a hurried rush, throwing myself back on the bed, staring up at the wooden-beamed ceiling. After I breathe calmly, I say, "That might take all night."

He crawls onto the bed, lying down next to me. He reaches out and curls his hand into mine. "For you, I've got forever."

I swallow hard, tears welling in my eyes. I want to protest: we don't have forever. Or even all night. We may not have an hour, judging from the way the wooden beams of the ship are creaking and cracking. But at the same time, it doesn't matter. It's time. It's long past time. He deserves to know everything.

I swipe the tears away, rolling to my side and propping my head up with my elbow. "You have to tell your part, too," I say. "This story isn't only mine, you know."

His arm curls around my waist, his hand settling at the small of my back as he tugs me closer to him. He's so warm. How is it possible that he's still so warm? "I think I can manage that," he says with a small smile. "But you must start. It all began with you, after all."

"All right," I say, resting my head on his chest, his steady heartbeat against my ear. I close my eyes, trying to decide where to begin. So much has happened over the years. But there is that one day. One fateful day that changed the course of both our lives forever.

I open my eyes. "It all starts with the wind," I say. "My dear friend Gale."

As I speak, the words begin to course through me like the forbidding waters roiling outside. And like the waters, I will finally make myself heard.

Agnarr will listen.

He's always been the storyteller in our family. But not this time. Now it's my turn to tell the tale.

---

What stood out to me:

- It seems like Iduna revealed her past to Agnarr around the time they set sail for Ahtohallan, not the night of the accident with Elsa’s magic as Jennifer Lee, and I believe other sources, have implied. Of course, with “spin-off” content like this where the original creators aren’t involved, there’s bound to be inconsistencies. But Jen never stated that the time of Iduna’s reveal was definitely the night of the accident, only that she believes it’s that night though it could have been another night (I think this was part of the podcast interview she did several months ago). So yeah, the exact night it happened isn’t terribly relevant.

- This excerpt also reveals that Iduna revealed some of the truth to Agnarr early on, but then reveals everything in detail during their last moments before the ship goes down. So maybe she did reveal some of it the night of the accident but not all? We’ll see.

- Iduna knew Yelena. That makes sense considering Yelena’s age and the importance she seems to have in the Northuldra tribe.

- Iduna uses feminine pronouns for Ahtohallan, reinforcing the theory in my Frozen 2 book that Ahtohallan was viewed as a goddess of sorts in Northuldra culture

- Iduna also calls the wind spirit “Gale.” Obviously we all thought that was the name Olaf gave her but apparently Iduna did as well. Coincidence?

- The book is written in first-person perspective from Iduna’s point of view, unlike the previous adult-aimed Frozen books “A Frozen Heart” and “Forest of Shadows” which are written in second/third-person.

- Iduna was in the process of knitting another scarf while on the ship. I wonder why.

- The cover art for the book changed slightly from the original version, with the main image in the center being of Iduna and Agnarr when they’re younger instead of when they’re king and queen.

- I’m curious as to what kind of order the book will present the events of the timeline. Obviously this excerpt is from the end of Iduna and Agnarr’s lives, so will it start here and show everything else via flashbacks? Seems weird they’d choose the end of the book for this preview so my guess is that things will be revealed out of order.

[johannstutt413]

(Inspired by this)

Gavial was finally done with her shift, and it was about time, too. Not that she didn’t enjoy her job, but eight check-ups in one day AND two surgeries? It was a bit rough, and on days like these, she knew exactly where to go.

“Hey.” He was waiting for her on the balcony, his mind on the same wavelength as he leaned back against the railing.

“Hey.” The Archosaurian approached him. “Isn’t that dangerous with your leg?”

He shrugged. “No more dangerous than spending the night with you.”

“I can fix that; you splattered on the deck is...I don’t want to think about that. How was work?”

“It came and went. Miss Ch’en stopped by to ask about some jurisdiction disputes between her and Fang’s team - a Lupo being territorial, imagine that - and I had my performance review with Amiya, so I basically just didn’t work the second half of the day. We had a good conversation about the difference between active and passive force prevention; I think she learned a lot, because I even learned a little. You?”

She sighed, leaning over the balcony next to him. “Two operations and a full day of measurements and scans. Found out Ceobe’s been forgetting her meds, so we had to give her hell for that, and little Suzie thought she might have been bitten by a slug but it didn’t leave any new crystals to grow from, so we dodged a bolt there. I’m just lucky we didn’t have any trainings today.”

“Mmm.” He nodded, expression hidden by a mask. “So you’ve been busy today. Tired?”

“Yeah, *yawn*, you could say that.” Gavial stretched as she yawned, leaning back with her arms above her head.

The Doctor smiled to himself as she rested her head against his arm. “Want to take a nap before dinner? Whenever you’re ready, we can head back inside.”

“That would be nice.” Her voice softened, eyes slowly blinking. “You don’t mind cooking tonight, do you? I’ve seen enough red meat for one day.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He turned away from the balcony, pulling the Archosaurian close for a hug.

To an outsider, Gavial and the Doctor were made for each other because they were cut from the same rough cloth in bold colors; in fact, after her first performance review, the Doctor might’ve agreed with that analysis. During his first check-up with her as his physician, however, he realized that wasn’t entirely true.

He’d been held up by a meeting going long and found her in a sour mood because of it. “Good afternoon, Doctor. Mind telling me what kept you?” Her tail’d started swishing slowly, menacingly, behind her when he opened the door to her office.

“Strategy meeting went long; I tried to explain, but they refused to let me leave.” He shook his head as he unzipped his jacket to hang on a rack near the door. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Doctor; it’s your health that’s at risk, not mine. Although, looking at your records, you’ve kept rigorously to your treatment schedule.” There was an interesting note to her voice as she said that - almost gratitude, as if she hadn’t expected him to have followed the plan he’d been prescribed.

He shrugged. “I was given that for a reason; no reason not to follow it. Height/weight or blood pressure first? I’ve had it both ways since I got here.”

“Height/weight. Whoever did it the other way must’ve been confused.” A couple measurements later, and the Archosaurian frowned. “Underweight. Are you eating properly?”

“I eat three meals a day,” the Doctor replied as he sat on the half-folded examination table.

Gavial took a few notes before grabbing the blood pressure cuff. “Full meals or microwave food?”

“Both,” he shrugged. “Don’t have time to make breakfast and lunch properly, but dinner’s a different story.”

“You don’t have time? That’s an easy fix - just get up earlier.” Cuff in place, she watched him as she waited for it to pressurize and deflate.

He similarly watched her. “I would, but any less sleep and I’d be completely non functioning.”

“That’s even worse.” The Archosaurian sighed as she noted the reading. “132/84. We need to bring that down, too...What’d the last person you saw tell you to do about this?”

“They said it was ‘within the acceptable range’ and left it at that.”

She cursed under her breath. “Damn it, what kind of physician doesn’t notice that? Take off your shirt.”

“Sure.” Shirt: gone, reduced to a pile on the stool next to the exam table. “Scar check?”

“Yeah...Interesting.” More fit than she’d expected, considering the biodata. Gavial pulled a glove over her right hand while she held her reference/scanner in the left. “Trunk, left side - no change. Neck, right side - no change. Left forearm, radius side - no change. Any weirdness anywhere?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Nothing to report.”

“Good. Pants, now...No previous crystal growth, and nothing new to report.”

“That’s a relief.” He pulled his pants back up as he watched her go back for her second glove. “Any reason you didn’t put them both on the first time?”

She gave him a look. “I need to come back over here to make notes. Your infection isn’t getting worse externally, and the scanner didn’t pick up any changes internally, either. So far, my only concerns are for your general well being and not your untimely death, which means you’re in the upper percentile of patients.”

“Lucky me...If I remember my HR files, you’re infected, too?”

“That’s right.” She walked back over to him. “Is that an issue?”

Another head-shake. “Not at all. What’s left?”

“ENT and respiratory; should be rather quick. Look straight ahead...Left is good...Right is good. Tilt your head back...nothing to worry about there. Might want to blow your nose when we’re done.” She smirked at that.

“Sure.” The Doctor stopped craning his neck. “Anything else?”

Of course - the part most people gave her shit over for not doing earlier in the check-up. “I need to feel you breathe. Something wrong?”

“No, go ahead.” He’d tensed up as one hand touched his back and the other rested against his chest.

“Alright, take a deep breath in...Out...In...Out...In...Out- Good, no issues. Just need to take a blood sample and we’re done here.”

...From a medical standpoint, yes, but while he was here, the Doctor did have a few questions. “Do you have another patient to see after this?”

“I’m actually going to lunch after this.” The Archosaurian took a few notes. “Why do you ask?”

“Mind if I eat with you? Couple of things I’m curious about.” Things only she knew for sure.

Gavial shrugged. “I won’t stop you. Right arm since you have that scar on your left.”

“Gotcha.” He glanced over at his shirt as he asked, “Cafeteria?”

“I eat in my apartment.” She walked back over to him with a lancet.

The Doctor made a quick calculation. “You want me to get my own food or-”

“I’ll cook for both of us.” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I know my way around a kitchen. Hold out your hand. *click* And done...Hmm. BOCD’s down from your last check-up. Good. Now if we can just get your lifestyle in order, you’ll be able to enjoy the long life you have ahead of you.”

“Sounds good. You want me to pay you back?”

The Archosaurian shook her head as she cleaned up her workspace. “No need - I’ve got a spare steak I need to cook anyway. You can put your shirt back on.”

“If I have to.” He smirked as her tail slapped the ground once. “It’s refreshing talking to someone straightforward. Feels like everyone else around her plays games, but you just keep to the facts and the best way to say them.”

“Doctors and soldiers should be direct; you lose time, you lose lives. Appreciate the compliment, though; most people think I’m too blunt.”

He hopped to his feet as she turned to leave and followed her out into the hallway. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently.” Gavial shrugged. “If it didn’t bother patients, I doubt they’d say anything. Saria doesn’t get any complaints, after all.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” Why would he complain about finding a kindred spirit, after all?

And in the months since that first meal together, he’d never even come close.