#how soon am i gonna regret trying to write kit

[gellavonhamster]

a room for one night

gen || R the Duchess of Winnipeg, Lemony Snicket, Bertrand Baudelaire, Kit Snicket || ships mentioned and/or implied: R/Beatrice, Lemony/Beatrice, Bertrand/Beatrice, Kit/Beatrice, Bertrand/Lemony || pre-canon 

ao3 link eng  || ao3 link rus

inspired by @beatricebidelaire‘s post that I can’t find now (tumblr search function, am I right?) but the idea was the following: two volunteers, the “there was only one bed” trope, but all they do at night is talk about Beatrice

“Should I sleep on the floor after all, perhaps? Lemony suggested.

R gave him a bewildered look. “I feel like we’ve slept in the same bed before often enough for you not to worry about propriety, haven’t we?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lemony raised the edge of a dull bed sheet covered in light blue polka dots, and tapped on the base of the bed. “I meant the beer crates.”  

They checked in the hostel early in the morning, left their belongings, and went out to explore the surroundings – not only and not so much out of tourist curiosity as to find the restaurant where they would have to spy on a couple of persons of interest to VFD tomorrow, select the table it would be the most convenient to spy from, and evaluate the escape routes just in case. After that they simply had to go to a café for root beer floats, and then they made the mistake of visiting a museum whose size they severely underestimated. The room had been checked for wiretapping and other unpleasant surprises of that sort earlier by another volunteer who was passing through the town but could not stay for long and perform the task that was ultimately assigned to Lemony and R. What that volunteer had not mentioned in their report was that the room had a sloped ceiling, so low in places that it was possible to bump one’s head by accident, as well as that the bed was essentially a mattress placed upon several beer crates put together. Though they were not happy about the ceiling, the bed, which they had a good look at only in the evening as they were preparing for sleep, only made them laugh.    

“Ah, that’s what you’re talking about. Come on, if they keep this bed in a double room, it means it won’t collapse under anyone. And I assume that many have tried…”  

“Your Grace.”

“I mean, this is a double room…”

“Your Grace,” Lemony repeated, shaking his head. Despite his deliberately disapproving voice, he was smiling. “Sometimes I cannot believe you belong to the cream of society.”  

“That’s because you do not spend enough time among all that cream. It is sour at best,” R climbed under the blanket. Her legs were aching a little after wandering the town and the museum, and the dubious bed felt like a paradisiacal cloud to her. “Hey, what’s with the face? Are you all right?”  

“Yes. No,” Lemony hesitated. “May I ask you something?”

R tensed up.

“Go ahead,” she consented. She had suspicions regarding what was bothering her friend, and she was not sure she wanted to talk about that.

“Do you hate me?”

R reached out and touched his forehead. Lemony frowned.

“What are you doing?”

Stalling for time, she thought, but what she said out loud, naturally, was a whole different thing.

“Checking if you have fever, since you seem to be raving.”  

“R, I am being serious,” Lemony pushed her hand away softly. Both of them were lying on their sides, face to face, and in the mellow light of the night lamp Ramona could see it clearly that he was talking completely seriously indeed – she could read it in his eyes and on his lips. “I am not asking you for politeness; I am asking for an honest answer. If my company is oppressive to you, I will get a separate room, and tomorrow we can organize work so that our paths would cross as seldom as possible.”

Ramona rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she spoke. “You want honesty? Here’s your honesty. No, I do not hate you. I love you, you fool,” and she wasn’t lying, wasn’t trying to spare his feelings. Lemony was her best friend from their very childhood. Despite his peculiar personality, it was easy for her to love him – it was a genuine, virtually familial attachment that was not complicated by anything superfluous.

“And Beatrice?”

He was watching her so intently and sadly that she couldn’t bear it and closed her eyes. She was silent. He kept waiting.

“I love her too,” she said finally. If her love for Lemony was simple and straightforward, then her love for Beatrice was disconcerting, at times uplifting, at times stupefying, and only one thing was clear: while there was friendship in it (in R’s opinion, no real love was possible without friendship at all), there was certainly nothing familial about it. “As if you do not know that.”  

“I do,” Lemony confirmed. She opened her eyes again and looked at him. Of course he knew everything and even more. In the area of romantic feelings towards Beatrice Baudelaire he was no less of an expert than she.

R sighed.

“You know I would not come between you, now that she has finally made up her mind and chosen you,” she said firmly, to him and to that small nasty part of her soul that kept wondering why Lemony Snicket should get what she had been dreaming of. “I cherish both of you too much. That may come as a shock to you, but crushes come and go,” shit, she promised to be honest, but when one is not completely sure if what one says is true, that does not count as a lie, does it? “But friends like the two of you are hard to come by. Are you going to ask me if I am happy for you? No, I am not happy that the girl I liked chose you,” that was a good word, ‘like’, it made everything less significant. “But I am happy that the two of my closest friends are together, and doing fine. Well, as fine as it can be for the most dramatic people I know.”      

“Hmm,” was all that Lemony said. He covered her hand with his. “I believe that you wouldn’t lie to me, and I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry that it all turned out like this. If I can do anything for you…”  

“You can,” R propped herself up on one elbow. She was eager to be done with this conversation as soon as possible. The more they discussed that, the more she thought about Beatrice, and so the more difficult it was to let her go. And she had already decided that she would let her go – it could not go one like this anymore. She deserved better. All of them deserved better. Maybe Lemony and Beatrice enjoyed drama, but she preferred comedy. “Stop trying to set me up with every girl we meet that I say is cute. Or at least stop using literary quotes for that purpose, I am begging you.”

Now it was Lemony’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Ramona, please, I’ve already apologized…”

“We still have to face that receptionist in the morning, you know.”

“What’s wrong with quotes?”

“They perplex normal people. Some things exist for VFD internal use only,” R put her head on the pillow again and winked at him. “Now let us go to sleep already, shall we?” 

***

“Do you think I should cut my hair?” Kit asked.

Bertrand looked up from the book, the preface to which was supposed to contain an encrypted message, and shifted his gaze to his friend. She was combing her hair by a rather dirty oval mirror. Usually Kit put her hair in a bun or a ponytail, and occasionally Bertrand (and many other people, in all likelihood) forgot how long and voluminous it was – a heavy brown waterfall.  

“If you are tired of your current hairstyle, then by all means you should,” he observed. “What is important is your own opinion on that.”

“I see. I don’t even know what I expected,” Kit put the comb down on the only nightstand present in the sparsely furnished motel room, and started plaiting her hair for the night. “Bertrand and his famed diplomacy…”  

Bertrand put the book aside.

“We can do without diplomacy,” he said in a tired voice, took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He and Kit had driven for four hours today, and tomorrow they had to drive as much. The heat was unimaginable, the air conditioner in the taxi kept acting up, they had already eaten all the food they had with them, and the only kind of food one could come by in that part of the Hinterlands were crappy hot dogs and candy sold at gas stations. “I remember Olaf used to shower your hair with compliments all the time, and I get your wish to do something to spite him, but if you’re going to cut it every time the two of you split up, you’ll go broke splurging on hairdresser’s services.”  

“This is not ‘every’ time,” Kit threw her plait over her shoulder. “There will be no next time. And that has nothing to do with him. As to hairdressers, I can cut my own hair just fine. Now, if you like – I got scissors in my bag…”  

“I think you should get some sleep and think about this in the morning.”

The bed creaked when Kit climbed onto her half of it. As the old guy at the reception explained to them, there were no single rooms in the motel. “You can have one room with no trouble,” he told them in a conspiratorial voice. “Not a soul for many miles around! No one will know.” That amused them: it wasn’t often that they got mistaken for a couple. Bertrand was under the impression that the two of them, in their glasses of the same shape and even often with a similar facial expression, must rather resemble relatives – if not siblings, then cousins. “Easy, B,” he heard Jacques Snicket’s voice in his head. “This is my twin sister, not yours.” Bertrand grinned.  

“Olaf isn’t the only one who likes your hair, you know,” he pointed out. “For example, Beatrice said that they are, and I quote, ‘gorgeous’. She’s even a little bit jealous.”  

“Is that so?” Kit said. It was as if something in her face changed when he mentioned Beatrice, but that might have also been just a trick of the light in the dusk – the floor lamp by the bed, the nervously blinking neon sign outside. “I see you and her have grown quite close lately.”  

“We are working on a new production together.”

Kit was right, of course. He and Beatrice had been working at the same theatre for years, but they only really bonded lately, when the actor who was to play her lover had to leave on VFD business and his part in the play was given to Bertrand. Frankly speaking, he didn’t like Beatrice much until recently. He used to think her too loud and careless and pretentious, yet now the closer they got, the more he became convinced it was just another role that Beatrice used to protect her real self from fake friends, bootlickers, and the press. There was something extremely flattering in being allowed behind that façade, allowed to see the less kempt but at the same time more cosy space that it was hiding. Bertrand hoped to justify her confidence and not to lose her friendship – which was precisely why he knew well that at a certain point, they have to cease growing closer to each other.      

“I am not saying anything of that sort,” Kit remarked. “It is logical that the actors playing a pair of sweethearts spend a lot of time together – it is necessary to practice… and so on.”  

Bertrand turned off the floor lamp. It crossed his mind immediately that he shouldn’t have done that at that moment. It might have looked as if he didn’t want Kit to see his face or, for instance, to notice he was blushing. Not that he was actually blushing, of course.      

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Your brother’s relationship is under no threat. I am not the kind of person who could do that.” He almost added “Not to him”, but stopped short. He wanted to believe that he was not the type to ruin someone else’s happiness in any case, but there was something especially important in not ruining Lemony Snicket’s happiness. For a long time, their interaction used to come down to the debates of varying degree of seriousness, the non-committal (at least at first sight) discussions at the get-togethers, and Bertrand’s sincere frustration that Snicket seemed to dislike him. It was only lately that a careful friendship had come into being between them. When Bertrand tried to analyze that friendship, he ended up overwhelmed with the same feeling of awkwardness that resulted from his attempts to analyze his growing closeness with Beatrice, so he just allowed that friendship to grow, trying not to think of anything too hard. Anything but one thing: Lemony Snicket certainly was on the list of people he never ever wanted to cause any pain.        

“I know,” Kit replied. He couldn’t see her face: he was lying on his back, and she was on her side. But he could guess that she was smiling, and that her smile was far from being carefree. He couldn’t guess why, and he wasn’t sure he should. “Have you set the alarm?”  

“For six, as agreed. Will you be able to drive at that unearthly hour?”  

“You insult me,” now she must have been smiling from the bottom of her heart. “I could have driven all night without stopping for sleep. We’re in this doghole solely because I had pity on you, B. Appreciate it.”  

“I do appreciate,” he turned over to his side too. The thin curtains provided no protection from the handfuls of pink and green light that the neon sign was throwing at their window. Bertrand could make out the stripes on Kit’s pyjamas and the thick plait on her pillow, reminiscent of one of Monty’s snakes in the twilight. He remembered Kit’s words about the scissors in the bag. “So, have you changed your mind about cutting your hair?”    

“I have,” she answered, and he seemed to hear something strange in her voice and didn’t wish her good night, because he didn’t know what she, in turn, could hear in his.    

[selenitesdawn]

Can you do more Max stuff with a gn reader please?

I will gladly do so. I have a few Max requests and will get back to writing as soon as possible. Have this small piece of mind until then. Hope you enjoy it <3

Meteor

pairing : max mayfield x reader

warnings : just fluff <3

summary : max and y/n watch the night sky together after an exhausting day.

first person pov

This day definitely didn’t go as planned. Today was supposed to be awesome. And not just a little awesome. But like the event of the year type of awesome. To be precise, Max and I planned on watching a meteor shower tonight. Dustin told us about it like a month ago and we have anticipated that day since then. I’ve never seen anything like that before, so obviously I am super excited. And to watch it with my girlfriend is the cherry on top.

So, as naive as I am, I thought nothing could ruin today. But then, just my luck, everything that could have gone wrong, just went straight downhill. The day began with sour milk. Which I, by the way, ate a whole bowl of cereal in, just to notice that’s its sour on my last spoon. It continued in school with getting a D in biology, my lunch spilling on my pants, my bike breaking on the way home (which made me walk 40 minutes!!) and me stumbling over an empty can just 20 meters in front of my front door. And now I feel like I’ve ran a marathon and all my limbs just scream “SLEEP”.

The second I enter my room I dial up Max, telling her about my awful day.

“I don’t feel like going out anymore.”, I say exhausted, plopping onto my bed like all my life energy got sucked out.

“Oh come on y/n. We waited so long for this! I understand that you’re exhausted but you’re gonna regret it if we don’t go.”, Max replies in a disappointed tone.

“It’s not just me being exhausted. I’m just super unlucky today. It’s- Wait. Oh god.”, I breathe out. It’s what I think it is. Isn’t it? Oh god I think it is. I run over to the calendar, noticing that I didn’t check today’s date.

“What is it y/n? Hello?”, Max asks from the other end of the line.

“It’s Friday the 13th. My unluckiest day of all.”, I whisper quietly into the phone, trying to underline the seriousness of this.

“Well, duh Dummy. Dustin said the meteor shower takes place on the 13th July. That’s nothing new.”, Max states unaffected.

“Yeah but it is also Friday. Which makes it- you know what, whatever. I didn’t connect the pieces. But this is bad. That’s why I’m so unlucky.”, I just reply dramatically, falling back onto my bed.

“Okay baby, you know I don’t like to do this, but I know just how superstitious you can be. I mean you still carry that little piece of garlic around wherever you go-“, Max starts arguing.

“Okay but why where there vampire hunters around back in the days? There are literal kits of vampire hunting stuff, that is proof! No one knows whether-“, I argue back.

“Yeah and back in the day, women who were smart and had red hair got burned at stake.”, Max interrupts me.

I stay quiet after that, knowing that I can’t argue against that. And whatever I say would come off just wrong.

“Whatever. The point is, you come with me tonight or else I won’t grant you a single kiss until this month is over.”, Max demands, sounding surprisingly serious.

“Wow that is awful. You know, if I come with you, considering my luck; we won’t see a single meteor tonight.”, I answer confidently, testing if Max is serious.

“I’ll risk it. See you at the hill at 9, bye bye.”, is the last thing she says before she hangs up.

This girl.

After napping for what felt like an entire year, I pack my things and my skateboard, leaving the house at 7pm. It usually takes me around 30 minutes to get to the hill with my board, but I got to be extra careful today. That’s at least what I thought. Somehow I still manage to fall five times, getting to the hill at around 8:30pm.

I spread out a blanket and lay on it, watching the sky above me. It is quite peaceful to lay here, especially after that stupid day. Even after that great nap, I still feel tired though. I must have drifted away, since I didn’t notice Max laying next to me.

“Hey love, glad you came.”, Max says to me smiling, putting her hand on my cheek as she turns my face towards hers.

“I had no other choice really, had I?”, I answer back, obviously teasing her a little.

“Hm, not really I suppose.”, she replied sweetly, pressing a little kiss on top of my nose.

Max gets up from besides me and starts searching for something inside her backpack. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so I close my eyes again and listen to the wind blowing through the grass. There is nothing like spending time with Max. I could lay in the middle of a dump with her and it would still be the best thing ever. She always manages to make me feel comfortable wherever we go. It almost feels like home is.. wherever she is.

“Open your eyes, I have something for you.”, Max whispered softly.

I open my eyes to see her sit in front of me, smiling from ear to ear. As I lift my body up, I see her holding a bracelet in her right hand. And it looks beautiful.

“Wow Max, is this for me?”, I ask as she hands it over to me.

“I made it myself. It protects you from any bad luck. Especially on Friday the 13th’s. It’s not the best but.. it has all your favorite colors in it.”, Max replies happily.

“What are you saying? It’s beautiful Max!”, I say as I put it over my hand.

The pearls reflect the moonlight, creating a beautiful sparkle. It fits perfectly, somehow it has just the right size. Like Max measured the scope of my arm. As I keep viewing it, I see one pearl has the letter “M” on it.

“What stands the M for?”, I ask, knowing the answer already.

“For Max. Obviously. So you never forget who made it for you.”, she replies proudly, taking my hand into hers.

In that very moment all my worries wash away and my day suddenly seems not so bad. Max once again manages to make everything ten times better. I kiss the back of her hand and giggle, surprised that Max supports my irrational fears.

“I love you Max. Thank you so much, I’ll never take it off.”, I smile.

“I love you too y/n. And your little.. habits. Even the garlic thingy is… kind of cute. I guess.”

We just lay there after that, admiring the night sky. When Max sees her first meteor, she excitedly points at the place where she saw it, hoping that I could see it too. I think deep down she knows that there is no way I could have seen it, but her excitement is just too cute.

“Do you see that? How beautiful! My first meteor.”, she exclaims excitedly, shaking my arm.

“Yes, I saw it. How exciting.”, I smile softly, just happy to see Max as happy as she is.

She latches onto my arm and watches the stars excitedly. Her eyes sparkle even brighter than my bracelet, her cheeks must hurt from smiling as much as she does. It’s the most beautiful view. Not even the meteor shower can compete.

“I’m so lucky to see this. With you. Together. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here right now.”, Max says quietly, cuddling into my side. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Forever.”, I reply softly.

“Yes Dummy. Forever.”

[whatdidimissjm]

not sure if you're still accepting requests but may i ask for “don’t move. i’m going to get your bath ready” jamilton with thomas' dumb ass moving anyway

I am always accepting requests! :) And I looooved writing this one! It took me like forever, but now it´s done and I hope you´ll like it!

Promp list

--

Felt the Shame Rise in Me

“Alex, I´m so dizzy.”, Thomas mumbles, as soon as his boyfriend enters the room.

He looks up at him with glassy eyes, a thin layer of sweat covering his fever-flushed face. Alex puts the bag with the groceries down on the table and walks over to him, gently cupping his face and brushing his hair back, so that it isn´t sticking to his forehead anymore. Thomas´ eyes flutter shut as he leans into the touch, letting out a soft sigh. The heat that´s radiating from Thomas´ skin is concerning and the fact that Thomas doesn´t even try to hide how bad he feels, worries Alex even more. A shudder passes through Thomas´ body and he lets out a soft whimper, trying to wrap the blanket tighter around himself.

“I´m so cold.”

“Would you like to take a bath?”, Alex asks, and he can see Thomas´ eyes lighting up.

“Yes, please.”

He tries to sit up, but Alex places a steadying hand on his chest, gently holding him down.

“Don´t move. I´m going to get your bath ready and then I´ll get you.”

Alex expects Thomas to protest, but instead he just nods, sinking back down onto the couch, his eyes fluttering shut. For a moment, Alex just watches him, before he presses a quick kiss to his forehead and stands up and walks over to the bathroom. He turns on the tap and waits a bit, before he adds one of the bath-bombs he knows Thomas likes. He watches the water change colour, his thoughts spinning around his worry for Thomas and he almost doesn´t hear the soft thud from outside the bathroom. Alex turns the water off and listens from a moment, but doesn´t hear anything. Just as he is about to turn the water on again, a pained moan sounds through the flat, that causes him to jump up and hurry toward the living room.

“Thomas?”

His voice is shaking, and he feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest. Another quiet moan comes from behind the couch and Alex braces himself for what he is going to find. Thomas is half lying, half sitting between the couch and the coffee table, one hand grabbing at the couch, trying to pull himself up. His face is a pained grimace, and the hand that isn´t holding onto the couch is pressed again his forehead, where blood is running out between his fingers and down his hand and face. For a second, Alex can´t form one coherent though, because that can´t be happening. Thomas should be on the couch, safe and sound, and not bleeding all over the floor. Waking up from his stupor, Alex drops to the ground next to is boyfriend and pulls him into a sitting position.

“Thomas what the hell happened?”

There is a panicked edge to his voice, but Thomas doesn´t seem to notice. The fact that he doesn´t react to his question either, makes Alex´s worry just grow more, and he grabs Thomas´ hand, trying to pry it away to see how deep the cut is. Thomas struggles against him, a pained whimper escaping his lips.

“Let me get a look at it, please.”

Alex doesn´t know if the desperation in his voice gets through to Thomas, or if the other man is simply too weak to resist more, but he manages to pull the hand away. He can barely see the cut because of all the blood, but Alex has a feeling that this isn´t something that he can handle on his own at home. He allows Thomas to press his hands against the injury once more and jumps up. Thomas´ head snaps up immediately, his eyes widening in panic.

“Where´re you going?”, he asks, his words slurring together.

“I´m calling an ambulance.”

For a moment Alex thinks Thomas will protest, but then his shoulders slump and Alex lets out a shaky breath of relief. He doesn´t think he could have handled arguing with Thomas about whether he needs to go to the hospital or not, without having a panic attack. The call is mercifully short, and after that he doesn´t feel as out of control as before anymore. He unlocks the front door and goes to the bathroom to grab a towel and their first aid kit, before he returns to Thomas, who blinks up at him with tired eyes as he hears him approach.

“Help will be here in a few minutes.”, he informs him, gently switching out Thomas´ hands for the towel. He opens the first aid kit and takes out a bandage, carefully wrapping it around Thomas´ head, hoping that this will stop the bleeding. Once he is done, he leans back, regarding Thomas with a frown. “And now tell me, what were you thinking? I told you not to move!”

“I don´t know.”, Thomas mutters, his voice muffled and weak.

Alex lets out a sigh and sinks down next to him on the floor, carefully wrapping his arm around Thomas´ back. Thomas sags against him, letting out a shuddering breath and Alex holds him tighter, not intending to let go of him anytime soon.

“I´m sorry.”

Alex swallows a few times, before he is able to answer without letting Thomas know that he is almost crying.

“Yeah, well, that´s what you get for not listening to me.”

Thomas lets out something like a chuckle, weakly reaching for Alexander´s hand. Alex holds onto his hand, feeling the rapid heartbeat fluttering underneath his fingers, letting him know that Thomas is here and alive, even though there is blood everywhere. He pulls Thomas even closer, leaning his head against the side of his head, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, because Thomas needs him right now and the worst thing would be to panic. A shudder passes through Thomas and he slumps even more against Alex.

“I´m cold and my head hurts.”, he mumbles, sounding like he is close to tears.

“The ambulance should be here any second.”, Alex promises.

He twists around to pull the blanket from the couch, gently wrapping it around Thomas´ shivering form, not caring that he will probably get blood on it. Just as Alex is about to call 911 again, because surely, they must have forgotten about them, there is a knock on the door and a moment later two EMTs are standing in their living room. The sight is so bizarre that Alex almost feels like laughing, weren´t it for Thomas still shivering in his arms.

“Good evening.”, one of them says, putting down her equipment bag in the couch and kneels down on the floor next to them. “I´m Nicole Breuers and that´s my partner Karl Davidson. What´s your name?”

“Thomas.”

“Thomas Jefferson.”, Alex provides, and Nicole nods and writes it down.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Thomas shrugs, holding on even tighter to Alex´s hand. It´s the only sign of strength he shows, other than that his body is limp and feels like dead weight on top of Alex.

“I was dizzy, and I think I tried to get up and fell.”

“He has been running a fever those past days.”, Alex chimes in.

“Were you with him when he fell?”

Alex shakes his head, feeling shame and regret rising in him. Maybe if he hadn´t left him alone, this wouldn´t have happened and Thomas would be alright right now.

“No, I was in the bathroom.”, he answers, his voice tight.

Nicole nods again, typing something on her tablet, before he looks up again.

“Thomas, does anything else hurt, other than your head?”

Thomas shrugs, dropping his gaze.

“I- I don´t know.”

“Okay, that´s alright. Does your neck hurt? Or your hands or back?”

“I don´t think so. Maybe my neck a bit? I´m sorry.”

Alex´s heart breaks at how lost and scared his boyfriend sounds, but the woman gives Thomas a reassuring smile and Alex feels himself relaxing the tiniest bit. They know what they are doing. Thomas will be fine. Everything will be fine.

“That´s alright. Now please move your hands and legs a bit, so that I can cross that off my list as well.”

Thomas nods and does as he´s told. She asks him a few other questions that Alex tries to answer when Thomas seems lost and then after a few minutes she is finally finished.

“We are gonna put a brace around your neck, just in case you hurt it during your fall.”, Nicole explains. “It will stop you from moving your head around, so that you don´t injure yourself more.”

Alex feels his insides going cold at that. He hadn´t even thought about the possibility that Thomas could be hurt even worse. The shock must be showing on his face, because Nicole gives him a reassuring smile.

“It´s a standard procedure. It doesn´t look like his neck is hurt, but better be safe than sorry.”

Alex nods numbly, and reluctantly lets go of Thomas, when the two paramedics put the brace around Thomas´ neck. He watches them lift him onto the lowered stretcher and feels his knees give in at the realisation that Thomas is so badly hurt that they need to take him to the hospital. He stumbles back, glad to be able to sit down. He feels a bit lightheaded and for a second he buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.

“Can I come to the hospital with you?”

He hates how desperate his voice sounds, but there is nothing he can do. When the paramedics nod, he lets out a breath of relief and gets up, grabbing his phone, wallet, keys, and a jacket and follows them outside. His legs still feel a wobbly and he is glad when he gets to sit down again. On the way to the hospital, Alex doesn´t intend to take his eyes off of Thomas once, far too worried that there is some kind of injury that they have overlooked.

“Do you have someone to call?”, Nicole asks after some time. “You will have to wait outside while they treat him. Maybe you can get someone to wait with you.”

He tears his eyes away from Thomas, looking over at Nicole.

“Yeah, yeah.”, he takes a deep breath, giving the woman a small smile that he hopes is convincing. “I will call someone when we´re there.”

“That´s good.”

They arrive at the hospital a few minutes later and Alex gets told to stay in the waiting area, while they take Thomas away to get treated and that someone will get him as soon as he can see Thomas. After just standing there for a moment, not knowing what to do, he finally has the mental capacity to sit down in one of the chairs. He takes a few deep breaths, before he takes out his phone, remembering what the paramedic has told him. He is a bit shocked when he sees the red smudges of blood all over the screen and for a moment, he just stares at it, before he opens his contact list.

“Alex?”, James asks, when he answers the phone.

As soon as he hears his friend´s voice, he can´t keep himself from crying anymore, a soft sob escaping him.

“Oh my god, Alex what happened?”

“Thomas… he, I don´t know… he hit his head and there was so much blood. Everywhere. And now we´re in the hospital and they took him away and-”

He is rambling and doesn´t seem to be able to form a single coherent thought.

“Okay, hey, calm down. Where are you?”

“New York Community Hospital.”, Alex sniffles.

“Good. That´s good. Do you need me to come?”

Alex closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep calming breath.

“No. I´ll be fine and there´s no use for the both of us to be here, just… just stay on the phone with me please.”

“Of course. Tell me what happened?”

“I… I don´t really know. Thomas is sick so I wanted to make him a bath and then I heard a weird noise and went looking for him and he was on the ground and bleeding and James I was so scared and… and what if I hadn´t heard him? What if-“

“Hey.”, James says softly, and Alex stops, holding his breath. “No what if´s. You found him and that´s all that´s important, alright? Are you sure you don´t want me to come? I can be there in like half an hour.”

Alex shakes his head, letting out the breath he was holding.

“No, I´m fine. Really. This helps.”, he hesitates a moment. “You help. Just… just keep talking to me, alright?”

And James does just that. Alex had always thought he is good with words, but the way James manages to talk him down is incredibly impressive, especially because Alex knows that James must be worried about Thomas as well.

Alex doesn´t know how much time passes, until someone asks for the family of Thomas Jefferson, but he is out of his seat in an instant. He promises James to text him as soon as he knows more and ends the call, walking over to the doctor.

“How is he?”, Alex asks impatiently, without waiting for the doctor to say anything first. “Can I see him?”

“Good evening. I´m Doctor Lewis and I have been Mister Jefferson´s attending doctor. I guess you are Mister Hamilton?”

“Yes, I´m his boyfriend. Is he alright?”

Alex doesn´t even try to appear patient, because if she isn´t going to tell him what´s going on soon, he might actually go insane.

“Yes. He will be fine. We gave him something for his fever and the pain, and the headwound needed nine stitches. He is showing signs of a mild concussion, but there are no other injuries, so he should be fine with a few days of rest.”

Alex lets out a relieved sigh, almost all of the anxiety falling off him. Thomas will be fine.

“Can I see him?”, he asks again, and the doctor nods.

“Of course. If you´d follow me.”

She starts walking down the hallway and Alex follows her, already dreading the answer to his next question. He doesn´t know what he will do, if she tells him that they have to keep Thomas for the night, doesn´t think that he could bear to go back to their flat alone.

“Is he okay to go home?”

Doctor Lewis turns around to him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Yes, under the condition that he will not be alone and that you bring him back if his condition gets worse.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath and nods, thinking to himself that he probably won´t ever leave Thomas alone again.

“Yes, yes of course.”

They come to a stop in front of a door and Doctor Lewis gives him a smile.

“I will be back in a bit with the forms you have to fill out, but you can go in. He has been asking for you the whole time.”

Alex nods and thanks the doctor again, before he opens the door and slips in. Thomas turns his head at the noise of the door, giving his boyfriend a reluctant smile. There is a bandage around his head and Alex is glad to see that some of the colour has returned to his face, but the dark stains of blood on his shirt still make him pause. They are a far too real reminder of all that has happened today. When Alex doesn´t make a move to walk over to the bed, Thomas holds out a hand for him and after another moment of hesitation, he takes a few steps forward. He takes Thomas´ hand, the one without the IV in it, and allows him to pull him down so that he is sitting on the bed.

“Hey.”, Thomas whispers, his voice exhausted, but he doesn´t seem to be in pain anymore. Probably thanks to the painkillers.

“Hey.”, Alex echoes, and suddenly he feels like crying again.

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. When he opens his eyes again, there is a small smile on his face.

“The doctor told me you kept asking for me.”

Alex had meant for it to sound mocking, but instead there is only fondness in his voice.

“I didn´t want you to be alone.”

At Thomas´ words Alex feels his throat tightening, but he doesn´t allow himself to give into his emotions.

“You are the one hurt, genius.”

Thomas is about to respond, when the door opens once more, and Doctor Lewis enters. She runs them through everything once more and has them sign Thomas´ release papers and then they are sitting in a taxi on their way home. Thomas is leaning heavily against Alex once more, but this time it´s reassuring, instead of concerning. He sends a quick text to James, letting him know that Thomas is alright and that they are on their way home.

As soon as they enter their flat, Alex spots the dark stains of blood in the living room and he feels a shudder running through his body. He quickly guides Thomas into the bedroom, deciding that he will deal with all of this tomorrow. After he has made sure that Thomas is sitting on the bed and not intending to get up, he turns to their wardrobe and takes out fresh pyjamas for both of them. Alex helps Thomas putting his on, even though he insists that he could do it alone too, before he quickly slips into his own.

“Let´s get you into bed.”

Thomas lets out a content sigh and allows Alex to guide him under the blanket and tuck him in. Alex pulls the curtains closed and turns off the light, before he joins him in bed. For a moment they just lay next to each other in silence, but then Thomas shifts around, so that he is looking at Alex.

“I´m sorry.”, he mumbles, a single tear running down his cheek.

Alex reaches out for him and gently brushes it away, before he leans in and presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Next time you listen, when I tell you to do something.”

Thomas chuckles softly and nods, curling up in Alex´s arms.

“I will.”

Alex pulls Thomas closer and presses a kiss to his head, mumbling a soft “good night” into his hair. While Thomas falls asleep, Alex watches him, not yet ready to take his eyes off him.

[bluecloudious]

Kinda angst I guess (but it has Zanaz so take that with a grain of salt)

Trying out writing a story this time.

I mean, yeah, I wrote for the comics, but not long dialog.

So yea, as per both the funni boys mature content warning. (There's no canoodling, there is talk of it tho.)

Also there's quite a bit of text (8 pages worth on Word)

So ye:

“Get up, I have some juicy gossip for you.”

...What?

I open my eyes and the world around me is blinding. It’s so bright that it takes a second to adjust to it. There’s nothing around me other than vast white and empty space.

This definitely isn’t Nevada anymore. (Unless Hank managed to ruin everything even further somehow.)

“Get up now, I know you heard me.”

I get up and look around. Who the hell is talking? There’s literally nothing but white for miles.

“I’m in your head, pretty boy.”

Uh, that…

“I’m holding my eyes closed, don’t worry. I regret ever having them open in here, in fact.”

Welp, that answers that. Now for the other question.

“Who I am is not important. What info I have, may be of interest, though.”

Alright?

“There’s a deal attached to this knowledge, Zanaz. Hear me out before you start fidgeting.”

I’ll sure try.

“You know Kits, right?”

No duh, he’s my best friend.

“Excellent. He’s going to die soon.”

…

What?! Wha, when, how, uh--

“Calm down, jitterbug. There’s nothing you can do to stop his fate, so don’t try. If he doesn’t die one way, another thing will go wrong. Understand?”

I-- NO! What the fuck?! Are you gonna kill him?!

“No, not me. I’m just sharing the news.”

Yeah, right, sure. Fucking… When then?

“Soon.”

How soon? In a month, week or a few days?

“Hm… A month then, give or take.”

...Fuck… How?

“Depends on what leads up to it.”

So, there are a lot of different ways it can happen, right?

“Indeed there are.”

...Do I die with him?

“No.”

NO?! In none of the different variations, I don’t die by his side?

“Oh, you can be by his side, of course. But death isn’t after you.”

What if I try to block a bullet, but it goes through both of us.

“Oddly specific. You’ll still survive.”

What if I block it with my head?!

“Brain damage, possible vegetable state. Will still survive though.”

What if Hank slices us with one of his multiple katanas?!

“People have lived through being sliced in half before.”

WHAT.

“This world has zombie clowns with god like powers and the AAHW is lead by a man consisting of black fire.”

...Ugh, fair enough. So… Wait those are all possible deaths for him?

“If you do everything in your power for it to happen, then yes.”

I… I can kill him before his time?

“Of course! You have free will, don’t you? It’s more of a question if you want to.”

Of course I fucking don’t! I care about him!

“I saw. You daydream about him an uncomfortable amount.”

He’s the main person I’m around, give me a break!

“Have you ever considered not being horny?”

Until I’m castrated, there’ll be nothing of the sorts.

“You’re not even fertile! None of the clones are!”

You think I’m tryna get anyone pregnant at this sausage fest? Besides, that has not stopped me before.

“I refuse to believe that any of those scenes I saw play out in your head happened for real.”

You’d be surprised then.

“WHICH?!?”

Those are for me to treasure.

“...You’re pulling my leg.”

Believe what you want.

“Augh, never mind, TMI. Back onto the topic at hand.”

Oh, yeah, right. Kit… Dying…

Could you for real not give me a date?

“If it depends on the circumstances beforehand, then there’s no possible way to tell which one belongs to this timeline.”

And that means…?

“I don’t know how this Kits dies.”

Can I at least warn him?

“Well, there’s where the other side of the deal comes in. If you tell him, then the effect kicks in immediately.”

What effect? Death?

“Precisely.”

...Ah. Wait, so if I don’t tell him, he dies in a month but if I do, he dies immediately? Of what?

“Stroke, heart attack or brain aneurysm. Chosen at random. Oh, also sneak assassination. That’s also a valid option.”

...This feels set up.

“Mh?”

This feels like either you or whoever sent you here set this up so I’d suffer. You enjoy the pain of others, don’t you?

“I’m only the messen--”

Yeah, yeah, Messenger Bullshit. Then whoever decided this is probably a reality tv producer, who is jacking off to someone pushing in the soft part of a baby’s skull as we speak. You encourage such behaviour by working with them, ya know.

“...Do you think you sound smart?”

I know for a fact I’m not, so no. I’m pretty sure I’m on the money with this one though.

“If I wasn’t here then Kits’ death would come as a surprise to you though!”

I’d prefer that, actually! Now I have to deal with knowing that he… He… Won’t be here anymore soon.

“Well, knowing how overwhelmingly perverted you are, wouldn’t you wanna grab this opportunity?”

...What?

“Shoot your shot, ask him out. Not like you could do it with a corpse… …Right…?”

I may be horny, but I’m not messed up.

“Had to make sure.”

Ugh, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?

“Which instance are you referring to?”

Kit would never date me.

“And why exactly do you think that?”

He has standards?

“You’re a decently handsome fellow. You also get along with him just fine.”

That… That’s not a determinant of shit like that. There’s way better out there for him.

“He won’t meet em then. Only a month to live, remember?”

I… It’s not worth it.

“What isn’t?”

I know he’ll say no, there’s no point in trying.

“How do you know for sure until you actually ask?”

Cause it’s obvious! He’s actually got a brain in his noggin and he knows me way too well! He’d be fucking disgusted, man! We’re just friends and that’s that.

“Do you not want to then?”

...Why do you assume I do? How do you know that those aren’t just blissful fantasies like the rest of them?

“He’s the only one that you dream of in a non-perverted way. I see no other person in this graphic landscape that you want to hold hands with. (Also, I am closing my eyes again now, Jebus Christoff.)”

...Ffffuck.

“Well, did hit the nail on the head?”

Y-You’re stupid and gay!

“I’m rubber, you’re glue.”

That doesn’t affect me, I’m already openly gay and stupid!

“I guess we’re both such then.”

Dammit.

“So, you gonna give him a month to remember or not?”

…Eh?

“Come on, how much romance could a member of the A.A.H.W. really experience throughout their lifetime? If you’d make this month worth his and your own time, perhaps it would be less painful to see him go? At least he died happy?”

THAT WOULD BE EXTRA PAINFUL FOR ME, THOUGH!

“Oop, Zanaz selfish, you heard it here first, folks.”

That’s not what I meant. I’d already be upset over losing my best friend, imagine how fucking devastating losing a sweetheart would be.

“…I dunno, still sounds selfish to me. Does his happiness not mean anything to you?”

Who says he’d be happy with me?

“I know you want to make him happy, at least. You dream about his smile.”

STOP FUCKING LOOKING THOUGH MY THOUGHTS!!

“I’m not looking anymore, I just memorized the ones I already saw. (I wish I couldn’t.)”

I- You- Fucking-- UggHHH! It’s not worth it!

“What exactly do you imagine will happen if you tell him how you feel, huh? World combusts?”

I already told you, he already knows way too much about me! He’d be fucking grossed out and we’ll… We’ll stop being friends.

He’d quicken his pace whenever we’d have to pass each other in one of the halls. He’d desperately keep his glance away from me. He’d… I’d stop being the main person he talks and comes to company for a-and I can’t fucking have that, man!

I-I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He means too much to me.

“…I had no idea you were this insecure.”

FUCK OFF! It’s a bitter reality that I’ve come to accept!

“You haven’t even given it a shot!”

You don’t need to get crushed by a piano to know you’d die on impact!

“Those two things don’t correlate even remotely!”

It’s a metaphor!

“I know that, I’m saying that Kits has a thing for you too!”

…He what?

“He has major league crush on you! The things you say when play-flirting excite him! He’s gotten off to the thought of you touching him up! The works! (Why did I word it like that?)”

Whuh-- How the fuck do you know this??

“While you were monologuing, I visited his subconscious and confirmed it for myself.”

You can do that??

“You don’t even know my name.”

...Fair nuff. So, wait, he’s actually gotten off thinking about me?

“I don’t even need to open my eyes to already know you’re imagining it. Short answer, yes. He’s into you, Zanaz.”

Augh, I dunno what to do with this info. It’s kinda... Overwhelming in a way.

Actually, wait, how do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?

“I’m an incorporeal voice in your head that’s having a back and forth with you in a white void.”

Yeah, and?

“…I’m supernatural?”

Yeah, and?

“Come on! I just know, okay?!”

Sounds fake, not gonna lie.

“The part where I knew that Kits was gonna die was convincing, but the moment I mention that he might have a thing for you, you question the validity of my claims thus far??”

One sounds way more far-fetched than the other, you gotta admit.

“NO IT DOESN’T?!?!”

For you maybe! I’ve known him since I’ve been out the cloning tube! We became agents together! I think I’d know what kinda stuff is off the table for him, buddy.

“Well, not only are you wrong, you’re in denial.”

I am not!

“Then try it! Just attempt asking him out! In the very least, you’ll remain friends after. I promise you. Cross my heart and all that jazz.”

…

…You’re absolutely positive? You are also the person that told me he’d die in a month’s time.

“A hundred percent positive. I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You have a life?

“Unfortunately. So, you’ll do it?”

Why’re you so adamant about me fucking Kits?

“Affgdgfdgfg, it’s not about you fucking him, it’s you making his last living month worthwhile!”

Okay, so, why do you want me to do that?

“…Do you not??”

I mean, I guess that sounds worth my time. But you didn’t answer my question.

“Sorry for assuming that you want the person you’re madly in love with to be happy, I guess??”

Apology accepted. Now, how do I get outta here?

“Ugh, just wake up.”

Whu--

And I’m sitting up in my own mat, back at the facility. The clock shows that it’s early morning.

What the fuck do I make of what I just saw? Or heard, for that matter? It clearly wasn’t a normal dream, I never remember those. Plus the topic tends to blur together usually.

I gotta tell-- Wait, I can’t do that, fuck.

…

It’s way to early for shit like this, man!!

Augh…

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE FIRST TIME YOU TALKED ❜

Second chapter of ‘Buena suerte’ with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 600.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on google.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

Grace called you at three am to attend an urgent surgery. And a special one. You knew what she was talking about and how many time it would take you. Feeling sorry for your five years old daughter, you had to wake her up because she couldn't be alone and your friend offered herself to take care of Rosa while you were attending the dog. Following the instructions she gave you, your car was driven through the scrap alley to the clubhouse. Stepping out from your car and carrying your own medical kit, Grace took your daughter between her arms.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart”.

“It's okay”. You shook your heart, drawing a soft and sleepy smile on your lips.

As soon as you came into the clubhouse El Presidente greeted you with a cup of coffee.

“Querida”. He just said, before guiding you to the Templo.

Having a long sip, you followed the grunts and the curses to the main large table there. The creepy guy was lying over it. Your heart suddenly stopped for a second. Your brain needed almost another two seconds to reconnect and react to the situation. You acted as fast as you could. The first step was to disinfect your hands and wear a pair of gloves, the second step was to clean the blood springing from the wound and the third one was to shoot local anesthesia, close to the small hole and wait for a minute to get the effect.

“Just one bullet?”

Bishop just nodded.

“How's your name?” You asked this time, more to have an excuse to know it than for a professional needed.

“Cre—Creeper”. He grunted with a gesture of pain drawn on his face.

“I'm gonna use tweezers to take it off, okay, Creeper? Maybe it's gonna hurt a little, I'm sorry”.

“Just… do it, please”.

Placing your forefinger and your thumb on both sides, you had a deep breath to calm your pulse. And when your hand wasn't shaking, you introduced the tool into the open wound. Finding the bullet wasn't a hard job, grabbing it and putting it off from it in less than ten seconds. You cleaned his skin again, with so much care, before stitching it up and covering it with a sterile gauze. Helping the man to sit up over the table, you covered the top of his chest and his shoulder with a bandage, trying to not lose your mind counting how many tattoos he had.

“You're lucky it didn't get stuck in a bone”.

“Yeah, I'm lucky…” He just said, a little enraptured by your voice and the calmed smile installed on your lips.

“Thank you so much, querida”. Bishop placed a hand on your back, to call your attention.

“Anytime, Presidente”.

As soon as you left the Templo, much to your regret, you found your daughter playing Hide and Seek with the other men. Apparently, she was the one who had to hide, and the crew who had to find her. They were pretending that they didn't know where she was, until the older one took her between his arms.

“I FOUND YOU!”

Your little girl broke into laughter because of the tickles on her sides, making you smile seeing Rosa having fun.

“Baby, say ‘bye’, we gotta go back home”.

“Can't we stay a little more? Mama, please”. She pouted pretty sad at you, putting her feet on the floor to walk towards you, showing her best puppy eyes.

“Nah, it's late, niña”. The man said, squatting at her. “But you can come another day”.

“Can we, mama?”

“Yeah… Ah… Sure, why not?”

[n-ctarinenga]

Best Friend [ luke hemmings ]

surfer!luke au | pt.1 | word count: 5,222 | masterlist

If anyone had been your bestest friend in your life so far, it was definitely Luke Hemmings.

Since day one, when you ran into him looking at skateboards in your friend's store not far from Venice Beach, you've been somehow cosmically tethered to him. 

What started out as an offer to help him pick a board and learn to skate, him telling you he's always been more of a surfer than a skater, soon turned into hanging out without your respective boards, going to shows together, being at the same parties, both of you being on your friend Michael's exclusive dinner party guest list, basically, you guys hit it off.

After hanging out with Luke more over time, you learned that he had moved to California after dropping out of university in Sydney, not happy with the path he could see his life was on and following his passions instead, which led him to the same place it led you when you left your hometown, California.

You had been one of the first true friends Luke had made after his big move, and even though you told him to lay off, he would often remind you that you were the one to help him settle into the life he has now, your friend group quickly adopting him not long before he ending up running the surf section of your friend's shop that you'd met him in all those years ago.

It started out like any normal day for you, getting up, getting ready, and heading to your job at the cafe you'd been working at for a few years now. It didn't take you long to make friends, evident by the way people greeted you like an old friend as they came in for their morning coffees or lunch break meals. You were a generally sociable person, and enjoyed the daily interaction with the regulars and new customers that would come through the doors.

It was just a little after the lunch time rush that Luke came strolling in the door, knowing well how busy you would be at the peak of rush hour.

"Afternoon handsome, what can I getcha?" You ask with a grin, leaning forward and putting your elbows on the counter to prop your head up on your fists as you looked to him.

Luke lets out a laugh as he copies your pose, him having to bend down a lot more because of his height, the small space of the counter meaning you were pretty much face to face with him.

"Coffee and a apple cinnamon muffin please, knucklehead." He responds, his accent all over the place as normal.

You give a nod and slap the counter as you push yourself up, walking to the espresso machine on the bench behind you.

"Michael came in today." Luke announces, still leaning on the counter.

"How is he?" You ask, scraping off the coffee grounds to make it level and putting it in to brew before turning back around to see him.

"Good, we've got dinner with him on Friday."

You raise your eyebrows with a nod, pleased at the news.

It wasn't unusual for you or Luke to make plans involving the other without them there, your friends joking you've been a package deal as long as you've known each other. Besides, how could you be upset considering Michael's food was involved?

"What's the theme this time?" You ask curiously. 

Since Michael had become an apprentice chef at a local restaurant, he had been hosting dinner parties for his friends every couple weeks, his vegan cooking some of the best you'd ever had. To spice things up a bit, he started giving each night a theme, everyone showing up dressed in costumes to fit. It was one of your favorite nights of the week when it came around, and you were already excited at the thought of this Friday. 

"Pina Colada, the song. Apparently dress code is hawiian shirts and lei's at the door." He says with a laugh. 

You hold your tongue as you put the lid on his coffee, placing it on the counter in front of him. 

"Go on, say it, I know you wanna." He sighs with a smile on his face. 

"So are you looking forward to finally getting lei'd?" You ask with a sly smile on your face as you grab the apple cinnamon muffin from under the glass cover beside the till. 

He groans dramatically, but his grin still covers his face. For the whole time you'd known Luke, while he had been on a couple dates here and there during your friendship, he hadn't been in an actual relationship since you met. Neither had you, the reason unknown to him, but it did mean you would casually poke fun at each other because of it. 

"You're really on fire today y/n/n." You roll your eyes as you hand Luke his muffin and coffee, ringing up his order. 

"You try getting sleep while Calum and a special guest is in the next room." You say with a raised eyebrow. 

Getting what you mean, Luke laughs, putting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. 

"You're a stronger person than I am. But if you do want a break, my door is always open." 

You smile at him, letting out a light sigh as you pat his hand, thankful for his offer. 

"I appreciate it. Now go get back to work before Sierra kicks your ass." You smirk, referring to your other best friend, and his boss. 

"See ya later, sweetheart." He says with a wink, picking up his food and walking towards the door. 

"Will do, darlin'." You smile. 

Feeling her presence behind you, you roll your eyes as you can practically already hear her comment. 

"You guys are cute together." Ali, your workmate and committed work wife says as she returns from her own lunch break. 

"Ma'am." You say in a warning tone, and she brushes you off with a light laugh. 

"What? I'm right." 

"Yeah, you are." You think to yourself. 

With Ali back, you busy yourself grabbing a muffin, before you turn to walk out back and take your own lunch break. 

After replying to texts and watching too many tiktoks while you ate, you went back out front until closing, where Ali offered to shut up shop so you could get home a little earlier since she lived closer than you did. 

After thanking her so many times she broke and finally told you to fuck off, you offered to return the favour whenever she needed it and made your way back to the apartment you shared with Calum.

Calum was like a brother to you. Him being a year older and around you basically since you moved to California, as not only did you end up having the same friend circle, but his sister Mali was also your boss, being the owner of the cafe.

Sighing in relief as you pull your keys and lanyard out of your pocket, you unlock the door to your apartment and quickly regret it when you hear loud moans and banging coming from Calum's room yet again. 

With a frown already set on your face, you refuse to put up with another night of disrupted sleep, putting your airpods in and turning them up before venturing down the hallway to your room. 

Pulling one of your bigger bags from your closet, you set to work putting some things together in a makeshift overnight kit. Grabbing a couple outfits you could wear to work tomorrow depending on your mood and the weather, as well as all your other basic items, you write a post it note message for Cal, still being able to hear the sound of the action in his room over Awsten Knight loudly trying to drown it out. 

"Safe sex or no sex, you two!!" You call out as you stick the note to his door. 

You collect the last of what you'd need from the bathroom, before walking out and locking the front door again behind you. 

The walk between your place and Luke's wasn't that bad, it's close proximity being one of the selling points to you when you and Calum were first looking for somewhere new after your last lease ended.

You already knew that Luke would be home at this time, him finishing an hour and a half before you and spending most of that time at the beach until it passed golden hour, which was just fading as you walked out of your apartment. 

Climbing up the exterior steps that lead to his apartment unit, you could already see the light on through his window, his silhouette being framed for a moment as he walked past it letting you know he was home. 

Readjusting the bag over your shoulder, you step onto the "welcome" doormat you brought him as a housewarming present, knocking twice, then once, then three times. 

It only takes a second for you to hear his footsteps coming towards the door, and as he opens it, a smile appears on his face as he realises who it is. 

"Hey stranger." He greets with a slight grin, but you could see he was slightly confused about why you'd shown up. 

"Hey, do you ah, is that offer still on the table?"

Luke's face softens as he remembers what he told you earlier in the day, raising an eyebrow. 

"He was at it again huh?" He asks, and when you nod, he shakes his head as he steps aside, letting you in. 

"Of course the offer is open, but you are gonna have to help me cook dinner." 

You smile as you look up at him while you pass through into his apartment. 

"Sounds like a plan to me." You laugh happily, making yourself at home and dropping your bag at the end of the couch as you hear Luke shut the door behind you. 

Turns out veggie stir-fry is on the menu for the night, one of your favorites. You both take a knife and chopping board each, chopping up ingredients and adding them to the fry pan before Luke takes it to the stove to get the garlic and onion started while you get going on the carrots and bok choy. 

You and Luke move around each other easily, naturally. You'd been in his kitchen enough times to know where everything was, and even with music playing from the corner covering the sound of your movements, you both seemed to know where each was the whole time. 

Taking a deep breath and inhaling the gorgeous scent of the cooking food, you lean up against the counter, crossing your arms casually and looking over to Luke. 

He stood with spatula in hand, moving the food around while slightly swaying to the music. You felt a small smile come to your face, getting to admire him for a minute while he was distracted with the food in front of him. 

There was a part of you that very much wanted to ignore and deny the warm feeling that would bloom in your chest around Luke, but an even bigger part of you that knew it was pointless to even try. 

The feeling wasn't a stranger to you, in fact you'd been living with it nearly since the day you'd met him, even though it was a lot less back then, the seed was still planted. 

But, you knew that the feeling would remain just that, a feeling. At this point in your life, you couldn't imagine what you'd do if you lost Luke. While yeah, he was your best friend, and you would regularly flirt with each other casually, there was still part of you scared that if you did let him in on the secret you hadn't told a soul, you would lose him completely. You knew the possibility of losing him was there no matter what, but you'd be damned if it was gonna be because of something you had done. 

A change in song brings you back to reality, and your eyes snap to the ground, clearing your throat before speaking. 

"So how have you been? We haven't caught up in a minute." 

With summer fast approaching, this was peak season for Sierra's store, meaning you'd been missing out on both of your best friends lately to tourists and hobbyists coming out of hibernation. 

Luke shrugs slightly, looking to you for a moment with a perplexed expression. 

"It feels like we get busier every year, which I'm not complaining about at all, but it's just…. draining I guess." He sighs. 

Frowning, you turn towards him more, waving slightly to let him know it's okay to keep going if he wants to. 

"I end up missing things more than usual. Sleep mainly." He says with a hint of humor to his voice and a small smile on his face. "And the sea, and you, and the guys. All my favourites."

Never really being one to comfort with words, you place a supportive hand on his, as it rests on the counter beside the stove, propping him up as he stirred with the other hand. You let your thumb brush over the back of his hand, understanding exactly what he meant. 

Luke smiles as he looks down, wordlessly moving his hand slightly so he can hold onto yours. 

You ignore the way your heart skips a beat as you look up from your joined hands to his face, a kind smile on yours as you speak. 

"We're not going anywhere hun. I know I won't be." You say softly, clearing your throat as you realise there's a small chance he could read into the last part of your sentence. "I'm pretty sure the sea isn't going anywhere either." You add on quickly. 

Luke takes a deep breath, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he laughs, turning his attention back to the food as you slip your hand away from his. 

"Yeah, good point." 

You nod, holding your hands together in front of you and looking down at your socked feet against the tile of the kitchen floor. 

"Hey, uh, can you grab some plates? I think we're nearly ready to go here." Luke asks casually, diffusing the tension you could feel had built in the room. 

You agree with a nod, moving around the kitchen and collecting together what you'd need. While Luke dishes up, grabbing you both drinks as well, you grab some cutlery and place mats for the table, setting them out and helping Luke carry everything the couple feet journey from the kitchen to the table before sitting down, taking a quick picture of your combined efforts before picking up your fork. 

You both dive into the meal, singing your praises to his cooking skills as you complement the food in front of you. You smile as you see Luke turn a slight shade of pink as you do. 

Distracted by your conversation, your empty plates sit on the table beside you as Luke pokes fun at you for what happened on some random day you'd mostly forgotten, one where you both had ended up nearly getting your friend group kicked out of a club a few months ago. 

You're both laughing as you recall the details when Luke's phone starts vibrating closer to the edge of the table, him quickly catching it before it can fall. 

"Shit, I'm meant to be calling my mum in ten minutes." He frowns, mad at himself for losing track of time. 

"Okay. You get set up, I'll do the dishes, you should be good to go in ten if you start now." You say, jumping into action and stacking the dishes as he looks up to you to protest. 

"You don't have to do the dishes, I'll just stack them and get to them later." He fights, but quickly loses the battle when you point to him, then his laptop, silently instructing him to get going. 

He looks at you defiantly before deeply sighing and getting up, grabbing his laptop and setting it up on the other side of the open plan room on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

"You're too good to me." He sings while he does as he's told, you smiling to yourself as you run the water. 

"Enjoy it while it lasts." You sing back. 

The familiar chime of the Skype call ringtone emanates from the other side of the room, and you look over to see a bright grin covering Luke's face as the call connects. 

Luke loved his family, and especially his mum. You knew he would still go through bouts of homesickness from missing them, which is why you knew any contact he did have with them was extremely important.

"Hey mum." Luke grins. 

"Hi bub, how are you?" You hear his mum ask though the speakers. 

You do your best to zone out of the conversation, wanting to give him privacy. Instead, you focus on the music still playing in the corner, though it's playing more softly than before.

Doing your best to stay quiet, your ears perk up as you hear your name from across the room. 

Realizing it came through the speakers instead of from Luke, you fight your better judgment and try to eavesdrop, having no success when Luke starts to talk a lot quieter. 

Why would Luke's mom ask about you? Sure you were best friends, but you didn't see yourself as that important. 

Lost in your thoughts, you lose your grip on the plate in your hand, flinching as it drops back into the sink with a loud clattering noise. 

"Are you okay?" Luke asks, bolting up with a concerned look on his face, ready to help in an instant. 

Looking in the sink, you see the plate still fully intact and nod as you take a deep breath. 

"Yeah it's all good, just lost my grip." You explain, giving him a thumbs up. 

He examined you for a moment before sitting back down with his laptop, but instead of picking up where he left off, you hear his mom asking who that was, referring to you.

"Y/n is staying over, loud roommate issues." He explains with a slight laugh. 

"Why are you hiding her?! I want to see the pretty girl I've heard so much about." You hear her reply, your cheeks growing pink as you do your best to smother a laugh at the light telling off he was getting. 

Looking over to Luke, he raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you wanted to come over and say hi. Looking between him and the laptop, you silently mouth "you sure?" to him, receiving a small smile and a nod in return. 

You dry your hands on a kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, nervously wringing your hands as you walk over to the couch, sitting down beside Luke and waving to the webcam. 

"Hi Mrs. Hemmings, it's nice to finally kinda meet you." You smile as you laugh slightly. 

"Nice to meet you too love! Luke's told me a lot about you, all good things I promise." She laughs lightly. Even through a screen, you could feel the warm nature of the woman who'd raised your best friend, though it did make sense his mom would be a sweetheart if he was. 

"I'm glad to know I've made such an impact." You bump your elbow into Luke's arm, his head down as he laughs to himself, blonde hair falling over his face. "I promise Luke's done the same for you. I probably don't have to tell you how family proud he is."

His mom smiles, a sense of pride about her for a moment before she looks to the side of the screen where Luke would be. 

"You wouldn't be able to tell with how he's trying to hide now." She teases, Luke shifting sideways so he's more in frame, your shoulders and knees now touching. 

"I thought mums had to be nice to their kids in front of their friends?" He asks with squinted eyes. 

"I don't remember that being a rule. Besides, you don't have the same accent I remember my son having so I'd say it's fair game." 

"That's because I spend too much time with this one." Luke says, nodding his head towards you. 

"Excuse me?" You say with a raised eyebrow. Luke just smiles at you, his teasing having the desired effect. You don't manage to hold onto your hard exterior for long, cracking and smiling back at him. 

Liz laughs at the two of you, dispelling the moment as you both look back to her. 

"Yeah we do spend a lot of time together." You say, Luke nodding in agreement as the three of you fall into easy conversation. 

You end up staying for the whole video call, Liz asking you about your life, what you do, all the story details Luke had failed to tell her himself. 

As you both say a lengthy goodbye, Luke promises to call Liz more between video calls, and you promise to keep an eye on him for her in the time in between those as well. 

After closing his laptop, Luke leans back into the couch with a sigh. 

"She likes you." He says quietly, looking over to you with soft eyes and a softer smile as you mimic his actions and lean back into the couch, turning your head to look at him. 

"You think so?" You ask, just as quietly as he spoke. 

He nods tiredly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side, his hand squeezing your shoulder as your rest your head against his. 

Ever since Luke had hit end on the call, you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you, which you half blamed on the time, and half on stressing yourself out trying to make a good impression. 

You can feel yourself falling asleep as you sit there, feeling comforted and comfortable as your breathing turns shallower, the scent of salt water and cologne clouding the front of your mind. 

"We should probably go to bed." You suggest, right as Luke covers his mouth with his spare hand as a yawn escapes him. 

"Good idea." He agrees. 

He gives your shoulder another squeeze before you both get up, him moving to get you a blanket and pillow and you moving to get something to sleep in out of your bag. 

Tiredly digging through, your hands pass your work uniform, toiletries, and a sweater, but not one of your old t-shirts you normally slept in. 

Seeing the annoyed look on your face, Luke frowns slightly as he returns to the room. 

"What's up?" 

You groan as you sit back on your legs, gesturing to your bag.

"All I packed was my uniform for tomorrow and a sweater in case I got cold. I was in too much of a rush to get out of there I guess and didn't pack a shirt to sleep in." You frown, mentally scolding yourself. 

"Hey, don't worry about it. You can just borrow one of my shirts." He says with a light shrug, like it's the obvious answer to the issue. 

"Are you sure?" You ask, and he nods, placing the pillows and blanket down on the end of the couch. 

"I'll go grab one and you can get dressed in the bathroom while I change in my room, then it's all yours." He says, and before he walks off, you call him back. 

 "What do you mean all mine?" You ask. 

"You can have my room for the night and I'll take the couch." 

You raise your eyebrow, standing up and crossing your arms. 

"If you think I'm making you sleep on your couch in your own house then you obviously don't know me." 

Luke sighs, well aware of your stubborn nature and already knowing he's fighting a losing battle. 

"You must not know me if you think I'm gonna let you sleep on the couch." He responds. 

You stare each other down for a minute, both of you not backing down on your point until you relax your face and stance, picking up your toiletries bag and shrugging.

"Guess we're sharing a bed then. I'm gonna go brush my teeth." You say casually, leaving Luke standing in the doorway of his bedroom open mouthed in shock. 

As you stared yourself down in the mirror while you brushed your teeth, your internal monologue was punching you in the face repeatedly. 

There’s a huge difference between passing out on the same couch together and actively choosing to sleep in the same bed together, and it was only one of those things you’d done with Luke in the past. Sure, there had been times where you had slept in Calum’s or Sierra’s beds, but with Luke, it had never been something to come up.

You remind yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. You and Luke are both grown adults, two stubborn grown adults, but adults all the same. You weren’t strangers to each other by any stretch, so you couldn’t figure out why the plan you’d put upon yourself made your heart beat a million times faster.

Little did you know, Luke was doing the exact same thing in the room over. As soon as you had stepped out of the room, his hands started to sweat. He was nervous, more so than he had been in a long while. 

That was the thing that scared Luke the most about you, apart from the fact he’d seen you take down a man twice your size after getting cat called on Pasific Ave, was the special type of nervous that you made him without even trying. He knew the reason why it happened, not that he was willing to admit it to you, or anyone else but Ashton and his mom for that matter.

How was he meant to spend the night in the same bed as the girl he’s in love with, let alone fall asleep at all? 

Mentally slapping himself in the face to make himself move, he pulls one of his favorite t-shirts from his closet, knowing that not only did you like it, but it was also one of the most comfortable things he owned.

To someone who hadn’t known Luke a while, they would be surprised to know how organized he is, clothing and home always organized just as well as the boards and gear he overlooked in Sierra’s store.

You rinse the toothpaste out of the sink, taking a deep breath as you hear Luke’s footsteps come closer. He knocks first, opening the door slowly just in case after you tell him to come in.

“Here, to sleep in. I know you like Guns n Roses.” He says with a cheeky wink as he hands you the shirt.

You scoff lightly as you take it, it being a running joke between you how much you disliked Guns n Roses, while he counted them as one of the all time greats.

“Thanks, you really know me.” You grin as you roll your eyes, lightly pushing him out of the bathroom and closing the door.

You hold the shirt up in front of you, looking in the mirror to see the difference in size between you and your best friend. While it fit normally on Luke, you could see it would graze your upper thighs, your height not all that different from his.

Taking your clothes off, you fold and stack them into a pile by the sink while you change your underwear and pull Luke’s shirt over your head, the smell of cologne and salt water hitting you again as you inspect yourself in the mirror.

Even though you had your reservations about the design on the shirt, you couldn’t deny it was one of the most comfortable things you’d ever worn.

Gathering your stuff, you open the bathroom door and walk back to your bag by the couch. Moving your uniform for the morning to the top, you put your old clothes in the bottom of your bag, calling out to Luke who must be in his bedroom.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” You call, zipping your bag again as you sit down on the couch to pull on your socks.

It was more out of habit than anything else, and consideration for the person you shared a bed with, knowing your feet always get freezing cold at night.

Luke walks out of his bedroom dressed in sweatpants and a black undershirt, pausing when he sees you. You see him take a deep breath in as you stand up, setting your bag back at the end of the couch again. 

"Alright hun?" You ask, frowning slightly in confusion as he seems rooted to the spot. 

He shakes himself out of it, nodding quickly before ducking into the bathroom. You stay in your spot, still confused as ever til his head pops out the door. 

"You can head to bed if you like, I'll be there soon." 

You nod as the door shuts again, ignoring whatever just happened as you walk to his bedroom, smiling at the sight of the glow in the dark stars you put up around the head of his bed still there from well over a year ago. 

Walking over to what you could tell was the lesser used side of the bed, telling by just the lamp on the bedside table instead of the books piled on the other, you pull the bedding back, sliding between the cold sheets and letting your head fall back onto the pillow. 

You let out a low groan as your body sinks into the bed, comfort washing over you as it felt like your bones sank back into the right place again after your long day. 

As Luke walks back to the room, you're still lightly groaning, making him laugh as he shuts off the overhead light, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. 

"You okay there?" He questions, pulling back the bedding on his side and sliding in next to you. 

"Your bed is so fucking comfortable." 

Luke just laughs at you again, turning onto his side to look at you. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to level the playing field and turn on your side too, your breath catching in your throat as you do when you realise your faces are now only inches away from each other. 

You both just lay there, smiling softly as you unapologetically take in his features so close, the curve of his nose, his lips, the shade of his gorgeous blue eyes. 

“Stop being cute.” He laughs, pulling your hair over your face.

"I will when you do too." You fire back. 

Luke just slightly shakes his head, letting out a deep breath before leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. 

"Goodnight, y/n." He sighs, and as your heartbeat rings in your ears, you slowly lean forward, returning the soft kiss to his forehead. 

"Goodnight Luke."

-

taglist: @spicycal @softbabiestan

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 4,240 Sam x Reader Warnings: none really! Summary: What what! Ohhh the feels... In the aftermath of Sam's break-up, he is sorting through his feeeeelings. A/N: Stuff is happeningggg. This is Part 8 of a series. Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

“What is that?” Dean stared at the book in Sam’s hands. “Sammy, are you serious? Come on, man. You can’t be reading that depressing Russian stuff… No wonder you’re always moping around here lately…”

“Okay, first of all, I have not been moping. Second, this is one of the greatest literary works of all time.”

“Dostoevsky?” you asked, stepping into the library, snacking on a small bowl of pretzels. Dean immediately plunged his hand into it and stole a few and you tried to wrestle the bowl back away from him.

Sam laughed at the exchange. “Yeah,” Sam said. “The writing is incredible.” He stuck a slip of paper in the book to mark his place and shut it, turning to give you a small smile as you slapped Dean’s hand away as he reached for your bowl again.

“Ow!” Dean gave you a sour look but ceased trying to steal your snack. “Alright. We need a hunt. There has been entirely too much sitting around here lately,” he said.

“Have you forgotten that my hand is still in a cast?” Sam said, gesturing with his injured hand.

“No. But Y/N and I don’t need you,” he said with a snarky grin.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just—I didn’t know what to say even…”

“I don’t know. You probably could have started with ‘Sorry I didn’t say goodbye and just ran off’,” you said, your tone a little harsh. You thought your anger had abated somewhat over the last few weeks, but maybe not enough. “‘Sorry I lied to you and Dean and, worst of all, Sam’ for—for how long exactly?”

There was only silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. “Look, I was just calling to tell you that I’m going home for a while. So, if you were wondering where I am, that’s where I’ll be.”

“…what about this mystery man?” you asked her. “Is that over already?”

“No, but… I just need to sort through some things.”

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

Another pause on the other end. “I am really, really sorry that I lied to you.”

“Yeah, well… I hope you learned something from all this.” Dean and Sam came wandering out of the library, expressions of concern on their faces. “I gotta go.” And with that you hung up.

Dean’s eyebrows raised in an inquisitive expression. You shrugged. “My sister. She’s going home for a while. I mean, not home exactly, you know, but out hometown.”

The Winchesters nodded. “So, about that hunt, Dean…” you said.

Dean looked eager but Sam still looked uneasy. He didn’t like the thought of you hunting without him being there. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you and Dean’s skills he just… the thought of sitting out helpless filled him with fear. It was just the what ifs.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Sam watched from the Impala as the door to the building busted open and you and Dean came rushing out. You were limping and Dean had your arm over his shoulder, taking some of your weight. Your left pant leg was soaked with blood below the knee. Sam threw open the door and was immediately on his feet, rushing over to you and Dean, his expression completely consumed by worry.

Dean had a shadow of what would certainly be a nasty bruise around one of his eyes soon, but he looked otherwise no worse for wear. When Sam got close he could see a large gash through your jeans on your calf. You gritted your teeth but gave him a smile through the grimace as he looked back up to you, his face clouded with unease. “Oops,” was all you said.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked urgently, moving to your other side to take more of your weight.

“Well, I may have gotten thrown into a pile of rusty metal. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Coven was a little bigger than we anticipated,” Dean said gruffly from the other side. “They were hurling curses at us from all directions as soon as we walked in. God, I fuckin’ hate witches…”

“Dammit, Dean! I told you this was a bad idea!” Sam scolded him, his heart racing with his anxiety. “We should have waited!”

“Sam, I’m fine. It’s not that bad,” you said, doing your best to reassure him. You tried to hide how much pain you were in. The gash in your leg was deep. It would need stitching. “If we had waited, there would be more dead people and probably more witches. I’m okay, really.”

The muscle in Sam’s jaw tensed. “You’re bleeding a lot,” he said. Dean rushed to open the door to the Impala for you, giving Sam a moment to look you over more thoroughly. You had little cuts and nicks everywhere and he was sure that you’d be pretty banged up and bruised tomorrow. The furrows in his brow deepened.

“Well, I’m gonna need stitches for sure. But I’m fine,” you said. Sam slipped his arm from around you and immediately unbuttoned his flannel. He ripped off one of the sleeves easily and bent to tie it around your leg, which was difficult with his casted hand but he managed.

You breathed in a sharp hiss of air as he tightened the fabric over the gash.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. Thanks.” You gave him a tight smile, but Sam could see beads of sweat breaking out along your hairline. You were clearly doing your best to downplay the injury.

“Alright. Come on, hot rod,” Dean said, rushing back around the Impala to help you hobble over to the car and slide into the back seat. You leaned back against the headrest and shut your eyes as soon as you were inside. Sam slipped in next to you, his tall frame a little cramped in the back seat, but he wanted to keep a close eye on you for the drive back to the motel.

In no time the Winchesters were helping you back inside their room and Dean was pulling stuff out of the first aid kit. Sam helped you sit down on the edge of one of the beds, and you swung your legs onto it. You pressed your back up against the headboard and Sam sat down on the other bed, facing you.

You looked over at him. “Sam, would you mind pouring me a nice, big glass of whiskey?” you gave him a pleading smile. “I’d like to be a little bit intoxicated while Dean sews my calf muscle closed.”

Sam felt a pang of regret but he got up and grabbed a glass, pouring in a generous share of hunter’s helper. But he also grabbed a second glass and filled it with cold water from the tap. He brought them both over to you, handing you the whiskey and setting the water glass beside you on the nightstand. “Just make sure you drink some of the water too. Please,” he said, giving you a serious look.

“You got it,” you said, nodding. You immediately downed the entire tumbler of whiskey and Sam sighed heavily, giving you an anxious look.

Dean was ready with the first aid kit and he had filled up the ice bucket with warm water. “Sammy, would you go grab all the towels and washcloths from the bathroom?” he asked, settling on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Sure.” Sam came back with a stack of towels.

“Alright, boss,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve done to yourself here,” he said, untying the scrap of Sam’s flannel from around the gash and shoving a towel underneath your leg.

You could already feel a warmth starting to grow in your chest and head from the whiskey. “Hey, I didn’t do anything to myself,” you retorted. “I didn’t put that pile of scrap metal there and I certainly didn’t throw myself into it.”

Dean laughed gruffly. “No, you did not.” He pulled out his knife.

“What the hell is that for?” Sam asked urgently.

“Well, I need to get into Y/N’s pants and quite frankly we don’t have time for my usual process, so—” he said, throwing a smirk specifically in Sam’s direction.

“Dean!” you scolded him, but you couldn’t help letting out a small laugh. You felt your cheeks growing a little pink. Sam threw a dirty look at his older brother.

Dean slipped the knife into the cut through your jeans and slid it around your leg, cutting away your lower pant leg so he could better see the wound. He tugged the scrap of fabric off and tossed it to the floor. “Yikes. Okay. Here we go.” Sam watched fixedly as Dean washed away the blood on your leg and poured some disinfectant over the area, eliciting a few expletives from you due to the burn. Sam watched you grit your teeth and clench a fist, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back against the headrest for a moment.

He came around Dean to your side and gently touched you on the shoulder. Your eyes shot open and met his kind, warm hazel ones. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. I think that whiskey is really starting to kick in,” you said. Your head was starting to feel a bit fuzzy and the warmth you felt in your chest was expanding outward.

Dean’s voice called your attention back to your leg. “Alright. I’m gonna start stitching you up. You ready?”

You gulped and nodded, bracingly yourself for the pinch of the needle and the uncomfortable sensation of the tug of the thread. Sam sat down next to you on the edge of the bed and held out his uninjured hand to you. You felt yourself blushing a little, and your heart responded in a nervous whir, but you placed your hand in his. Dean began.

“Son of a—!” you squeezed Sam’s hand in yours and shut your eyes, doing your best to take steadying breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Sam watched Dean work carefully.

“Dean, you gotta make your stitches smaller—”

Dean shot an annoyed glance at his brother. “Really, Sam? You know this isn’t my first rodeo? You wanna get in here and do it? Oh, wait, that’s right, you’re a cripple. So, why don’t you just be quiet and let me work, okay?” He turned back to his work, working skillfully and quickly.

You gave Sam’s hand a squeeze and despite the sting of the needle couldn’t help from giving him a small smile. His worry was so sweet… You felt the effect of the whiskey growing and let out a sigh, drawing a look from Sam.

“You okay?” he asked, more anxiety on your behalf manifesting in a small worry line near one of his eyebrows. You heart was racing from the way he was looking at you and the feeling of your hand in his.

“Mmm. Mhm,” you managed, pointing to your head with your free hand. “Whiskey,” you said. You heard Dean let out a gruff laugh.

“You frickin’ lightweight,” his deep voice said.

You ignored him and shut your eyes against another pass of the needle, giving Sam’s hand another tight squeeze. You felt his thumb suddenly passing over the back of your hand so softly it was almost as if you were imagining it. Your heart skipped a beat and nervous butterflies appeared in your stomach.

“Almost done,” Dean said. Another minute and he tied off the stitches and wiped the blood from your leg again. He grabbed the antibiotic ointment, applied it to your leg, and wrapped the whole thing up with gauze. “Done,” he announced, giving you a crooked half-smile.

You stared down at your leg, all wrapped up. “I’m part mummy now,” you said. The Winchester brothers had a comically similar expression on their faces, eyebrows lifted at the slight slur in your voice. They exchanged an amused look.

Sam was relieved, and his face broke into a small smile, deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. You were fine. “…How about some water, Y/N?” Sam asked, picking up the glass from the nightstand and handing it to you. You accepted it obediently and took a sip. Sam moved down toward your feet and untied and pulled off your boots. He tugged off the sock from your injured leg, which was soaked with blood. Dean was gathering up the bloodstained towels and throwing them in the laundry bag by the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said. The slur was even more obvious in your voice when you said his name.

He sat down on the other bed across from you, a little amused smile still on his face, elbows on his knees, hands interlaced a little awkwardly due to his cast. God, you loved those dimples. “ ‘Sammy’, huh?” he said.

You nodded, sipping some more water. “Sorry. Should I not call you that? Only Dean is allowed to call you that.” You were holding his eyes unabashedly. The whiskey was giving you a little more courage.

The smile on Sam’s face grew. “I’m okay with it. You’re the only other person I don’t mind calling me ‘Sammy’.” His face turned serious again though as he looked at the other little nicks and cuts on your hands and face. He grabbed a clean washcloth from the nearby stack and wet it with warm water from the ice bucket. He pressed it gently to a cut on the back of your hand, wiping away the dried blood. Your eyes stayed fixated on his face while he worked, drinking him in. There was another cut near your collarbone and Sam’s heart started to race.

“Um, do you mind if I—?” he asked, gesturing to the crimson mark.

Your eyes didn’t leave his face. He could have asked you for anything at that moment. You shook your head in answer to his question and Sam watched you pull your bottom lip in between your teeth for a moment, not knowing it was from nerves and that continued blooming feeling of warmth in your chest. He gulped at the nervous tightness in his own throat and wondered again at how intimate this felt with you, how the air seemed charged. He couldn’t even really remember a time when he had felt this with anyone else.

Sam gently pressed the washcloth to your skin, dabbing at the cut, wiping away the dried blood there. You shut your eyes at the sensation and leaned your head back against the headboard. Your leg was aching and burning, but you felt surprisingly relaxed even though your heart was racing in your chest with Sam so close to you. You worried he would hear it pounding.

“That’s better,” Sam said, drawing away from you again, feeling the space between you growing as if each inch were a mile. Your eyes flutter open again and you caught his.

“Thank you.”

Sam nodded, giving you a half-smile that had a flood of thoughts behind it. Just then Dean stepped back out of the bathroom and went to the small minifridge. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and a beer from the fridge. Sinking down into the armchair in the corner, he wrapped the ice pack in a towel and applied it to his cheek and eye. He popped the beer open with another hand and let out a loud sigh. “Well. That’s that,” he said. Dean gave Sam a knowing look, obviously sensing some mood in the room, and Sam was grateful that your eyes were closed again so you didn’t catch it.

You let out a yawn and Dean stood up, his hand still pressing the cold pack over his eye. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m beat. Y/N, you can take my bed tonight when you’re tired. I think I’ll just go crash in your room now…” Dean gave a pointed look to Sam whose eyes went a little wide. He gulped nervously and gave Dean a questioning and somewhat harried look. Dean only grinned at him. “Alright. Well, hope you can get some rest even with that leg, Y/N,” Dean said. “Night,” he added, opening and disappearing through the door to your adjoining room with his beer.

Those nervous butterflies flitted to life again as you glanced over at Sam. He gave you a small but bright smile, and it lit up the multifaceted hues in his eyes. “Are you tired?” he asked you.

You shrugged a little vaguely. “I can’t tell,” you said. “I just feel… warm.”

“Warm?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Whiskey.” Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so relieved that you were alright, that your leg wasn’t worse. He smiled at the answer and slur in your voice.

“Yeah, you sound a little like whiskey,” he joked.

“Sorry about your flannel,” you said suddenly. Sam cocked his head in a question. “You ripped it. And then I bled all over it.” This elicited another laugh from Sam and he shook his head.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He looked thoughtful and glanced down at his cast, resting his other hand over it. “I hate this,” he said. “Not being able to be on the hunt. Being out of commission. Sucks,” he said, catching your eyes. “But I stand by what I said before. I’d still do it for you again.”

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously again and Sam watched your eyelashes flutter as you looked away. God, that drove him crazy.

You managed to find your voice somehow. “You know, I’d do the same thing for you.”

Sam’s heart hammered harder in his chest. He wanted to kiss you so badly right then. The way you were looking at him went straight through him, straight to his heart. But your words were still a little slurred from the whiskey and it just wasn’t the time. He finally tore his eyes away and straightened up from where he was sitting. “You should rest. Now we need you to heal up fast, too.”

You nodded and watched fondly as Sam went over to his duffel bag and pulled out his book, settling in against the headboard of the other bed to read. Sometime shortly after, you fell asleep, still propped back against the headboard, your head lolled forward. Sam shut his book and got up as quietly as he could. He slipped his arms around you, one underneath your knees and one behind your back, and gently moved you farther down in the bed so your head was on the pillow. You stirred only a little as he slipped away from you again, his heart jumping at the feeling of you in his arms, no matter how brief. Sam grabbed the comforter and folded it over you, shutting off the light on the nightstand and laying down in his bed, even though he knew sleep wouldn’t come. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you… and whether he ever would find the right moment to tell you how he felt, or to show you.

You awoke to a cruel ache in your injured leg and glanced at the clock next to you, glowing in the darkness. It was just after 2 am. You realized you were covered over with the blanket and knew Sam must have done it, and you smiled at his sweet kindness, always so consistent. You started to slip out of bed but you immediately heard Sam’s quiet voice.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

You smiled. “I’m okay. I just have need some ibuprofen for my leg,” you said.

“I’ll get it for you,” he said, immediately climbing out of bed.

“You don’t have to get up, just go back to sleep. I’m fine,” you reassured him, but he was already refilling your water glass and digging the pill bottle out of the first aid kit.

“I was already awake. It’s okay,” he said, handing it to you.

Your brow drew down low over your eyes as you accepted it from him. “You were? Sam, you need sleep,” you said, and the worry was heavy in your voice.

“It’s alright. It’s not like I’m hunting right now. Sitting around at the bunker doesn’t require much sleep. I’m okay.”

You swallowed a few painkillers and looked at him for a long moment. “Come over here,” you said, patting the empty other side of the bed.

Sam felt a jolt of electricity up his spine. “What?”

You gave him a small smile, sweet and warm and kind. “Just come here,” you said, laying back down in your bed, stretching your injured leg out, turning to face toward the other side of the bed.

Sam swallowed hard at the nervous bundle in his throat. His heart was absolutely pounding. He worked up the courage and made his way around to the empty side of your bed, hesitating for a moment, unsure of what exactly was happening.

“C’mere,” you said gently. “Lay down.”

Sam swallowed hard again and laid down beside you. As soon as his head settled on the pillow beside you, you slipped your fingers into his hair and ran them gently through the silky strands. Sam shut his eyes at the sensation. It was raising goosebumps on his skin and he felt his mind instantly quiet. He could have laid there forever, so close to you but not quite touching, your fingers running through his hair. He drifted off to a deep and peaceful sleep for the first time in a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Dean was up quite early, checking his black eye in the mirror and frowning at the dark purples and broken blood vessels ringing his eye like a halo. He wanted to shower and change, but he’d left all his clothes in the other room. He made his way to the door and listened carefully for a moment. He didn’t hear any movement and it was still pretty early, so he figured you and Sam must both still be asleep. He cracked the door open as quietly as he could and peeked inside. He was surprised to see you and Sam both asleep on the same bed. You were separated by half a foot but your bodies were clearly angled toward one another and Dean smiled even wider when he noticed that your hand and Sam’s were quite close, and perhaps had been intertwined at some point.

Dean tiptoed in and made his way over to his duffel bag, shouldering it as quietly as he could and trying to sneak back out of the room, but he heard movement behind him as he was nearing the door and glanced over his shoulder to see Sam was now awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He noticed Dean with a struck expression and rose from the bed.

Dean grinned widely at his little brother and wiggled his eyebrows at him, his hand on the doorknob to the other room. Sam looked nervous and glanced back down at you before crossing the space to Dean and pushing him into the other room, shutting the door behind them both.

Dean couldn’t suppress the smile on his face and Sam was shifting his weight a little anxiously from one foot to the other. “Did you have a good night, Sammy?” he asked through his grin.

Sam swallowed hard. “Nothing happened, Dean, so you can wipe that smirk off your face.”

“I’d say something happened. That’s the first time you’ve had a decent night’s sleep in how long? Aaaand you were in the same bed, sooo…”

Sam gave his brother an appraising look. “Nothing happened.”

Dean just laughed gruffly. “Come on, Sammy. Even just sleeping in the same bed… that’s—that’s something. That can be… intimate.”

Sam gulped at the tightness in his throat and swayed a little on his feet as Dean slapped him hard on the back and then departed for the bathroom.

It did feel like something.

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

HAPPY ALMOST BIRTHDAY KIT KATTTT!!!! I love you so so so much n your birth is 100000000% something to be celebrated because YOU are awesome!!! N beautiful n smart n kind and a friggen awesome friend and I love you!! Anyways how bout a friends to lovers with Petey from list A - “I can’t stop thinking about you” (bonus points if he says this on friend in question’s fire escape after patrol because we love to see it)

THANK YOU CAREBEAR!! I love you moreeee and you’re gonna make me cry. Also I had so much fun writing this blurb and love the result so enjoy!

WC: 946

Peter sighed as he sat on the ledge of the roof, eating his way through a large sized pizza. It was his favourite, pepperoni with extra cheese and yet all he could taste was defeat. He hadn’t been able to focus all night, sure he still caught the bad guys but most of them were idiots. 

No, what really bothered him was what he was letting slip through his fingers with every moment that passed. The same person who occupied his thoughts from the moment that he woke up and had been for years now without him even realising. 

You had been his friend since the first day of high school when you’d literally bumped into him and had accidentally swapped books with him as you collected them up from the floor. He’d found you to collect his books and noticed you were crying because you were having a hard day, he’d comforted you and gave you a hug and you had been friends ever since. 

You were the first person he wanted to tell everything to and he always wanted to see you smile, even better if he was the one to make it happen. Peter knew that his feelings went beyond friendship and he knew that it was unlikely you felt the same so he kept his lips sealed but it was getting increasingly harder.

Even as he ate his pizza alone, you were the only one he wanted to share it with. He was sick of feeling trapped with his own feelings and he needed to tell you, he knew he did, no matter the outcome. 

That’s how he found himself swinging to your apartment block, holding the pizza box in his free hand and running through his speech in his mind. The same speech he had been practising in front of the mirror for weeks.

He knocked gently on your window, loud enough to be heard of your earphones but not so loud as to be heard by everyone else. As soon as you heard it, you looked up and smiled, quickly making your way to the window and opening it. 

“Pete what are you doing here?” You smiled at him and Peter lost his train of thought, every comprehensible thought flying from his mind until he realised what he was holding. 

“I brought pizza!” He smiled, presenting the box and you took it happily.

“Thank god! You’re a lifesaver.” You kissed his cheek, making Peter turn red. “My mom made tuna casserole for dinner.” 

Peter nodded knowingly, watching as you opened the box and took a slice happily. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t remember a word of his speech, he internally panicked before the uncontrollable word vomit came out.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You almost choked on your pizza, reds flaming red as you looked up at Peter. “W-what?” 

“I-I mean-” Peter sighed and climbed inside, sitting on the window ledge. He took a deep breath before trying to speak again, avoiding your questioning gaze. “I really like you Y/n. Like a lot. You’re the first person I want to talk to when I wake up and the last person I want to speak to at night and I can’t even think straight when I’m with you, you drive me crazy in the most wonderful way and yeah I really like you.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and let out another deep breath, eyes downcast, watching his feet swing against the wall. A moment of silence passed and if Peter had only glanced up, he would have seen the widest smile on your face and the small pool of tears in your eyes. 

“It’s o-okay if you don’t feel the same. I-” 

Before Peter could finish his sad ramble, you had cupped his cheeks and caught him by surprise. When he finally saw your smile, he felt his whole body and mind sigh in relief.

“I really like you too.”

Peter almost didn’t let himself believe your words were true because surely it was too good to be but then you were leaning in closer and his heart was racing in time with yours. He started to lean in and closed his eyes and when your lips finally met, a whole round of fireworks and butterflies exploded in his tummy. 

It was magnificent and scary and beautiful. He’d always hoped and imagined his first kiss would be with you but the real thing was better than any of his silly daydreams. It was real and as your lips moved against his, it felt so good like this was how it should always be with your lips on his. 

Neither of you wanted to part but the air was running out of your lungs and you knew you had to eventually. You were the first to pull back and catch your breath, opening your eyes slowly to look at Peter almost cautiously to see if he would regret it. He did the same but he couldn’t keep the wide smile from his face for long. As soon as it broke out, you smiled back and Peter pulled you close, nuzzling his nose against yours. 

“That was a good kiss.” He admitted with a blush and you giggled, nodding. 

“Yeah but I think I’m gonna need to run more tests.” You smirked and bit your lip, making the both of you laugh before Peter cupped your cheek gently and pulled you back in. His lips meeting yours in another explosion of fireworks. 

Peter didn’t care about eating the rest of the pizza alone because he was much more enjoying tasting it on your lips. 

Permanent taglist: @spidey-reids-2003 ~ @tomhoran  ~ @rebekkah4766 ~ @unbelievableholland ~ @hollandcreep ~ @eeyore101247 ~ @localpeter ~ @tomhollandssecurityguard ~ @yeeyeeitsme12589 ~ @chaoticpete ~ @thinkoutsidethebex ~ @serenaparker96 ~ @halfblood-princess-505 ~ @marvels-blue-phoenix ~ @abrielleholland ~ @farfromtommy ~ @sunshine96love ~ @sleepyhollands ~ @definitely-not-black-cat ~ @sunflowerhollands ~ @phrogtheguitarist ~ @laney-g23 ~ @spidereader ~ @parker-holland-osterfield ~ @pastelpeter ~ @glowunderthemoon ~ @whitewolfandthefox ~ @unicorn-princess-1999 ~ @serendipitous-amor ~ @hazmyheart  ~ @averyfosterthoughts ~ @dorbiksbitch ~ @peterparkoure ~ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing ~ @overlydeluded ~ @dragonflyashes ~ @tutuabby28 ~ @kickingn-ames ~ @parkrpeter-blog ~ @maybemona ~ @unfortunateshelby ~ @un-limit-edd ~ @howdyherron ~ @destinyluvkrime ~ @matsumama ~ @galaxystern08 ~ @the-crazy-fanfictionist ~ @quaksonhehe ~ @wonder-spidey~ @whatthefuckimbisexual ~ @keithseabrook27 ~ @namoreno ~ @sovereignparker ~ @musicalkeys ~ @joyleenl ~ @theamazingtomholland ~ @namoreno ~ @hollandsamor ~ @icyhollands ~ @miraclesoflove ~ @onceinalouie ~ @petersreactor ~ @call-me-baby-gir1 ~ @itstaskeen ~ @buckybigbutt ~ @madebyleftoversouls ~ @dummiesshort

Peter Parker Taglist: @shakespeareanqueer

[hollands-poppet]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied // Epilogue // Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland is your best friend and your roommate, but you both have undisclosed feelings for each other.

Word count: 3.5K💛

A/N: Hello again!! I honestly thought I would never finish this story but I did....I can’t believe it. I want to thank @ladybirduris​ for really pushing me to finish this story, y’all deserve a proper ending and here it is..even though the wait was long! Alright, enjoy..see you at the end!!! 

Warnings: Italics is flashback, cussing, I kind of proofread but not really, maybe some tissues? 

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8

“I feel like I can actually be in a room alone, you know? No fear, no anxiety.” Y/N remarks as she updates her therapist on the last couple of weeks. She had been seeing her shrink for about a year now.

“It’s been a tough road but I feel so much better. I feel like I can actually take over the world now.” Her hand grips her right knee, she holds it tightly almost as a pinch to remind herself she’s not floating from her excitement.

Y/N had been sort of high on life lately, she’s gotten really good press for collabing with Haus Labs and she’s being recognized by a lot of celebrities for her makeup work. She didn’t know that life could be this good, considering the fact that her life was a mess a year ago. She knew life was unpredictable but didn’t know that she could live life comfortably so soon.

Her therapist responds with a nod, “Have you found a place to live yet?” They scribble some notes while keeping their contact with her client.

Y/N giggles, “What can I say? I’m a gypsy. My belongings are at my mom’s home but I bounce everywhere.” It was true, she was busier than ever and she just never got around to getting her own place. And she honestly felt like she didn’t need one at this current point of her life, she didn’t want to anchor herself to a permanent place just yet.

She felt so liberated the day she moved out of her old apartment. It felt like whatever negative energy had been latched onto her and wasn’t letting her live a normal life had stayed behind in that place. Her anxiety and depression, her neediness stayed at the place where her intruder had robbed her of her peace of mind. It took time but her peace eventually made its way back to her.

“So… what’s next for you, Y/N?”

Y/N takes a deep breath while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “ I don’t know..something different. I feel like I can take on the world, you know?”

Her therapist nodded with genuine happiness for her and began to look through her notes, “It’s been a good year Y/N, but I have to ask...anything in the past you feel like you want to go back to?”

Y/N purses her lips in thought, she’s taken herself to the day she decided she wanted help. So many memories, an overwhelming moment floods her thoughts.

-

“We can’t, Tom.” She doesn’t move, not even an inch because the warmth feels nice and familiar. She’s weary of even giving into a hug or a kiss, she doesn’t want to regret her decision.

He notices her not wanting to give into him but he also knows that this is what she has wanted for a long time..actually what they both have wanted for the longest time.

“Come on, love…aren’t you tired of dancing with our hands tied?” He asks as his hands rest on her neck, and her hands slowly come up his.

Her head comes closer to his, their noses touching at this point, “I am tired..but I need to work on myself first.”

Their lips touched and it felt like nothing had ever gone wrong between the two. They were just two young kids who wanted only this and this moment to last forever.

She pulls away and her sighs, she needs to express a bit more before any of this goes further, “Tom..I just want you to know that I can’t move to Kingston…”

He nods in agreement as their noses are still intact, “That’s okay, love. You don’t-”

“But, I do. I really do want to move there and be with you.” She bites her bottom lip as her hands hold onto arms tightly, “I just need to make sure I’m okay..And I don’t know if that’ll be tomorrow, a week, a month, a year.” There is a pause between the two, she’s nervous. All she wanted was this to work and whether that meant they had to work on themselves separately or together.

All y/n wanted to make sure was that he made her heart feel safe, and that if this wasn’t okay that he needed to tell her that. All she wanted to hear was that it was going to be okay, and his response was only a few moments away. She hoped he didn’t run away this time.

“Hey, if the universe wants us to be together...then we’re going to be together.” Toms says defeated, he wanted nothing but the best for the girl he loves. He watched the tears roll down her cheeks, he brings his hand to her cheeks and wipes her tears away. He gives out a sad smile, “I’m gonna let you go.”

Y/N’s tears flow even faster now, it was a bittersweet moment. He was respecting her wishes but she didn’t want to leave him. He continues, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m always going to be here for you, I will always want you.”

She feels comforted by his words, and she was relieved by his willingness to wait for her but she couldn’t do that to him. “You don’t have to wait for him, Tom.”

He looks into her Y/E/C eyes, he’s grasping in what he knows is going to be one of the last moments he is going to have with her for a while. He clears his throat, the ball in his throat causing him to choke up a bit.

A tear finally escapes his eye, “We’re endgame, darling.” They both let out a laugh, he relieves the tension by making a cheesy, yet serious statement.

Y/N nods, her sobs making the most noise in the room. “Okay..endgame it is.” She gives a crooked smile and he gives her one back.

Without hesitation, both of their lips meet. Tom and Y/N take each other in for a few minutes, they didn’t know what the future held for them but now it was goodbye.

-

She sighs through reliving all of the past with just a few seconds, “I don’t know, a year ago I would’ve said yes in heart beat but now… I’m not so sure.”

Her therapist gives her a reassuring smile, “And that’s okay. As long as your progress and your happiness isn’t going to be jeopardized then that’s okay to take time to figure that out.”

Y/N takes in their comment, she didn’t know what she wanted to do now. She is in such a different place than she was a year ago.

“I don’t want to keep you here all day, so we’ll finish here but let’s get together for an update in six months, okay?” Her therapist remarks as she writes down the future date on an appointment card.

“For sure.” Y/N says, six months was far from this moment but she knew it would fly by just like this year did.

-

-

It had been about a month or so since her final therapy session and Y/N’s progress was kept, she was very happy. She felt normal finally, whatever that meant.

She had just finished doing Priyanka Chopra’s makeup for an event, a sweet client that Y/N had just started to work with. Y/N had left the hotel that she had just done her appointment in, throwing her kit of makeup into the lyft that had been waiting outside.

Just as she closes the trunk, she feels her phone begin to vibrate in her pocket. She decides to let it ring and gets into the car, a tired sigh escaping her mouth.

She felt like her phone had been vibrating forever, so she decided to just answer it. Without even giving her screen much of a look and seeing the contact, she answers the call, “Hello, this is Y/N.”

“Hey, Y/N! It’s Z!”

Y/N’s heart dropped, she hadn't seen or spoken to Zendaya that day she had dipped from the shooting Far From Home. She and Zendaya didn’t end off on good or a bad note, she just left. She needed help and she went to get it, and it’s not like she avoided Z because she was resentful. She just felt like her toxic behavior at the time had pushed her best friend away.

“Z- oh my god. I- how are you?”

“I’m good, Y/N. I miss you.” Z remarks, she’s lying in her bed with Noon while her laptop rests on the edge of her bed.

Y/N is trying to process her thoughts at the same speed of their conversation, “I- I miss you too. I wasn’t expecting this phone call today, sorry if I’m a little speechless.” There was a long pause, they hadn’t spoken for a year and it had hit both of them hard.  

This was a lot to process, Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I understand. How are you, Y/N?”  Z breaks the silence, she couldn’t pick up her friend’s vibe through the phone yet. She never held anything against her friend for leaving, Z really believed in mental health and it was important that she got help for her mind, body and soul.

Y/N sighs, “I’m okay… okay as in great. I just finished treatment not too long ago so I'm excited  to just move on with my life. Life is good right now.”

Zendaya smiles, she sits up in her bed adjusting herself to go a little deeper in the conversation. “That’s really amazing news, Y/N. I’m glad you took care of yourself and you did what you had to do.”

Y/N nods but forgets that Z can’t see her reaction, “Yeah, it was- I’m sorry for everything. Just know that my trauma was taking over me. I never meant to hurt you in anyway.”

“I understand, I was scared to call but I’m happy I did. I never blamed you for anything.”  Z exhales nervously before continuing, “I would love to see you, Y/N.”

Y/N smiles, “I-I’m ready to see you... I would love to see you.”

Zendaya giggles, “You know, it still might be too soon but I’m working on a show and I feel like you would kill the makeup looks!”

Y/N laughs at her friend's quick insert for trying to get her a job, “Ah, two birds, one stone. I see, Miss Zendaya.”

They both let out a laugh, Y/N knew Z’s intentions were all good and she probably just wanted to spend time with her again.

“No - but seriously. It’s called Euphoria and the makeup ideas floating around are so dope! You would honestly kill it.

Y/N sits in thought, it’s been a whole year since she and Z had done anything together. “It sounds fun but-”

“Please, please Y/N! You can’t say no!”

Y/N laughs, “How about we talk about it when we see each other?”

Fine.” Z says quickly with a pout. “Oh, my god! Please tell me you’re free this weekend!”

Y/N closes her eyes and thinks about her schedule, “Um, I might be free I think. Why, whats up?”

Z gets excited, she starts speaking so fast Y/N can barely catch up with what she is saying. “We’re doing press this Saturday for Far From Home at Disneyland! You should totally come!”

Y/N forgot she had even worked on that movie. A lot of wild stuff happened during that shoot that she completely blocked that movie from her mind.

There was another bit of a pause and Z took it as maybe Y/N wasn’t vibing, “Look, I understand if you’re not ready-”

“No, I am. I am so over it. I’ll come, I miss Disneyland as much as I miss you.”

Z squeals, “Oh my gosh, yes! Yay! I can’t wait to see you, Y/N.”

Y/N honestly can’t wait to see her best friend either, “Hey, I’m going to let you go here, I’m pulling up to my mom’s house. Send me more info for this weekend when you can.”

“Alright, Y/N, I will. I love you. Bye,bye.”

“I love you, too.” Y/N says right before she hangs up the phone. She lets out a breathy laugh because she can’t believe she had just spoken to Zendaya. She couldn’t believe that they hadn’t spoken in a year. It felt almost the same, she would see how everything would go when she sees her for the press junket.

As Y/N sat in her thoughts, it hit her hard that Tom would be at this press junket too. Oh, shit.

-

-

The days leading up to the day Y/N was going to Disneyland was nerve wracking. There has been so much progress and she was scared her nerves would wreck it all.

Maybe she felt scared that Tom would have moved on already. They were at first just roommates turned lovers turned….friends?

Could that be a thing? She didn’t know what to expect, how do you be friends with someone you were once in love with… or still in love with?

Y/N didn’t even go back to their apartment that they had once shared together to get her things, he shipped everything to her mom’s house. At the end of the day, she knew whatever was going to happen was out of her control. But Tom did say that if they were meant to be together, it would happen.

The nerves running through her body were making her palms sweat as she sat on the tram on the way to the park. So many scenarios of how this could go down but she truly had no idea. She got off the tram with the rest of the crowd, and had given Darnell, Zendaya’s assistant, a call because she had her backstage pass. Y/N’s nerves were still really high because this moment was a year in the making.

Darnell met up Y/N at the front gates of California Adventure, they caught a bit and he explained that the cast was going to surprise fans and film some promos. Her anxiety was shooting through the roof as she makes her way through the backstage section of the park but she never felt like more in the right place than she did right now.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Y/N turns around and sees her friend standing right behind her, “Z!!”

With no hesitation, the girls are in each other’s arms. It was one of those moments that fels so right, and it didn’t even feel like the two hadn’t seen each other in a year.

Z pulls back bringing her hands to Y/N’s cheeks, “You look so good! Oh my god, you look amazing!” She pulls Y/N in for another hug which Y/N doesn’t mind, she missed moments like this with Z.

Y/N pulls away, “Thanks, babes! You look so good, too!”

Z does a little pose showing off her look, “Law killed it as per usual!”

They both laugh, “Agreed!” Y/N lets out while tucking her hair hand behind her ear. “So, what are you guys doing now?”

“We actually just finished filming with some fans and took photos. They’re pretty much going to film us going on rides because they need B-roll.”

Y/N nods, “Sounds fun. What were you planning on getting on?”

Z grabs a churro from Darnell, “Well Jacob headed back to the hotel because he doesn’t do rides but Tom wanted to ride Guardians first.”

Fuck, Y/N had already completely forgotten that he was here too. “Z, I-I’m so nervous to see him.” Y/N rubs her palm sweat on her jeans and bites her lip to help calm her jitters.

Zendaya licks the sugar off of her lips, “He hasn’t stopped talking about you..” There is a slight pause only because Y/N was lost in her thought process.

“If you’re not comfortable we can go, the fans only care about Tom anway.”

“You’re not chickening out are you now, Zendaya?” A familiar voice asks and immediately causes Y/N’s heart to beat 10x faster than it already was.

Zendaya turns around and that’s when Y/N she comes into Tom’s full view. This is the first time he had since Y/N that day she left. Sure, he had seen and lightly stalked her instagram here and there but this was the real thing. Time literally stopped, everyone and everything had become frozen in time.

The only noise that can be heard is the theme park music, their eyes locked onto one another.

Y/N makes the first step towards him, and doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him. His arms wrap around her just as quickly as hers did. As much as Y/N’s leaving was growth, it was a learning experience for him too.

He was able to focus on himself and his work but it would be a lie to say time apart from Y/N was difficult. He pulls away, “I missed you so much.” Y/N didn’t even speak, she didn’t have to and just

as the two are about to kiss-

“Alright, lets go. You guys can catch up on the way to Guardians.” Zendaya interrupts.

The two looked at each other and they noticed they were drawing a bit of too much attention from the crew around them.

It was a little bittersweet but catching up sounded nice too. Zendaya and Darnell led the group while the camera crew followed them to every ride. It was a bit hectic but security was able to keep the guests and fans at a good distance.

While the cameras weren’t rolling, Y/N and Tom updated each other on their lives. They both mentioned how they were doing, what they were working on. It was all good vibes, it felt like nothing had changed except that Y/N was leading what calls a “normal” life now.

It had been a really fun day, a draining one as well. Y/N wanted to hang around the park a little bit longer to watch the sunset at Paradise pier. Zendaya and the crew left the park, they were drained but Tom stayed behind with Y/N.

Y/N and Tom stand at the bridge of pier overlooking the view, the ferris wheel and the rides behind adding a very romantic vibe.

“I’m truly happy for you, Y/N. I really am.” Tom says as he looks at the girl next to him.

She smiles while keeping her eyes on the sunset, “You know..I really didn’t want to leave you that day.”

He looks back over at the direction of the ferris wheel, “I know.”

Y/N sighs, “I honestly was scared to lose you.” The sun begins to disappear, the lights of the ferris wheel and park lights shoot up around them.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to come because I was scared that- I was scared that this was going to be different but just being here and seeing you…”

They both look at each other and she continues, “It just feels like home, you know?”

He nods in agreement, “My feelings haven’t changed Y/N.”

She blushes, “So what now?” She asks as she presses her lips.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Well, what is it that you want?”

Y/N turns to Tom, “This year has been soo good to me. I’ve been able to grow, feel like I’m in control of my own life but some things…”

The two turn their heads from the view and to each other’s eyes, “Some people were missing.”

A quick silence between them, nothing changed except for Y/N and this was a better version of herself, “I’m so much better than I was and all I want is to keep growing with you, Tom. I never stopped loving you. I love you, Tom.”

“I know what I want...I want what I wanted a year ago and that’s still you. I love you, Y/N.”

He brings his hand to her cheek and begins to pull her in for a kiss until she stops him, “What did you say that night before I left? Let’s stop Dancing with Our Hands Tied, Tom.”  

Tom laughs and brings her head in closer, their noses are touching. “Shut up, Y/N.”

They both laugh and without reluctance, both of their lips meet for the first time in forever and it felt like home to both of them. He pulls away and keeps her close in his arms, “I’m glad you came back to me, YN.” 

-

-

A/N: THE END. OMFG. ANOTHER STORY COME TO AN END. I just want to thank y’all for sticking with those story for as long as you guys did. I wanted to give Y/N and Tom a proper ending... I can’t believe it’s over. Please send me your thoughts, I love you guys!!! -Amy 💛

[fabuloustrash05]

Scars

(A Raphael x Mona Lisa oneshot)

Summary: After fighting some Purple Dragons, Mona Lisa returns an injured Raphael to the lair to heal his wounds. The couple soon gets to talking about their views, stories, and regrets on their own battle scars.

Words: 1909

Warnings: Swearing, discussion of injuries, and mention of trauma.

Author’s Note: I wrote this and published it on my Wattpad not that long ago, but I wanted to post it here too for the ones who don’t have a Wattpad :D I got more oneshot ideas I really want to write but right now, I’m gonna focus on Courting a Salamandrian. The next two chapters are looking great, I’m on schedule and I’m hoping chapter 5 will be ready hopefully in March or April. Anyways, enjoy!! XD

~~~~~

"OWW! SON OF A BITCH!"

"I know it hurts but please be still," Mona says as she tends to Raphael’s wounds. "It's going to get infected if you don't let me properly clean it."

Raphael has always been known as the type to throw the first punch, living by the phrase, 'Fight first, ask questions later'. But this time it really backfired for him. He didn't expect the Purple Dragons to actually be a threat, but they have gotten tougher, recruited some new members that were bigger and stronger than him. A mission he and Mona thought would be quick and easy, turned out to be harder than the couple expected. Raph almost didn't make it out of there, but thankfully, Mona Lisa had his back. With her help, they were able to take a few Purple Dragons down and send them to jail while the others, to Raph's disappointment, got away.

Raphael was injured after that fight, covered in bruises and cuts. He was bleeding badly. He wanted to go after the criminals that got away, but Mona insisted that she should take him back to the lair, return him to his room to patch up his wounds before they got worse.

Raphael was already covered in bandages, thanks to Mona, with her knowledge of medical care from her time in the military. There was a large patch on Raphael's right cheek, bandages wrapped around his stomach and chest, and a few bandages and stitches on his legs and left arm. There was one final cut Mona had to tend to. A large and deep cut on his right arm.

Mona pulls out a bottle of alcohol and opens it. She gently pours a bit of it onto a small cloth, "I need to clean up this final one so this is going to sting again." Gently, she begins to place the cloth on Raphael's arm.

Raphael bites his lip, holding back his screams as his arm begins to burn from the alcohol on his open wound.

"I'm sorry," Mona says softly.

"Don't be," Raph says, grinding his teeth. "I've felt worse."

Mona begins wiping the wound. She looks at Raph, seeing him in distress. "You were brave out there today," she said, trying to cheer up her boyfriend.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, right. You're just saying that. I got my shell kicked today!"

"No, no. I mean it," she said, releasing the cloth from his arm. She grabbed some bandages from the first aid kit and continued by saying, "You fought with courage and stayed strong throughout the whole fight, like you always do." Mona smiles as she gives Raph a quick kiss on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, "and you looked so handsome the entire time."

Raph smiles, finally giving in to her complement, "Thanks, but you were great today, too. If it wasn't for you, I would have been a goner."

She smiles at him, flattered by his gratitude. Mona began to wrap up the injuries, "These cuts were deep," she said. "You're lucky that this is all they did to you. You'll be fine. They'll all heal in a few weeks, but this one will possibly leave a scar."

Raph shrugs, "I don't mind."

"How can you not mind?" she asked. "It’s going to be a permanent mark on your body."

"I just don't really see it as a bad thing." Raph answered, "My dad always told us that scars are helpful because they help you learn from your mistakes. Help you improve in the future or something like that."

"Hmm, that's not what I was taught," Mona says as she finishes wrapping Raph's arm. "On my planet, scars are seen as punishments for your mistakes and failures, not lessons. The more you have the more dishonor you bring to your name." 

Raphael looks at his girlfriend as she continued, "Yes, scars can help you learn but they're just rewards for your foolish mistakes."

Raph leans in to Mona, with their noses so close to touching. Raph smirks, "Are you saying what I did today was foolish?" he teased.

"Hmmm, maybe," she giggles.

Raph laughs.

"Well, if you don't mind me saying, that's kind of a depressing way to see it," he added.

Mona looks at Raphael confused.

"You know Mona," Raph says as he leans away from her, "scars don't have to be viewed in a negative light, I think they’re pretty cool."

"Pretty cool, how?"

"They can tell stories," Raph said as he smirked at Mona. "Besides, I think another scar just makes me look more badass."

She giggles, "I guess that's one way to look at it." Mona then examines Raph's shell with curiosity. She places her finger on the chip in Raphael's plastron. "What about that one?" she asked. "What's the story behind that one?"

Raph touches the chip in his shell, "Oh, that one. Nothing serious. I got it when I was still a baby. I don't really remember it vividly, though. Splinter said that it was from my reckless attitude as a kid. Apparently I fell down some stairs and the fall was so hard it cracked my shell... but for some reason I also remember something about a shopping cart..."

"It never bothers you?" she asked

"Not really," Raph answered "I mean, when I was a kid I was annoyed because my brothers used to tease me about it from time to time, but after a while I got over it and grew to love my scar. They’re a part of me. They make me who I am."

"Interesting. I would never be so positive about my scars."

"You have scars?" Raph asked surprised as he examined her body, not seeing a single mark on her.

"Yes, from my time in the military."

"How many?"

"Umm, I have... a few, but I'm not proud of any of them."

"It's okay, Mona." Raph says trying to cheer her up, "You don't have to look at them so negatively."

Mona sadly smiles, "Thank you, Raphael. But you are mistaken."

"Come on, there's nothing to feel bad about- Wait. W-what are you doing?!" Raph nearly falls off his bed from the sight of when he looks at Mona and realizes that she is beginning to lift up her shirt. Embarrassed to see her topless, Raph covers his eyes.

Mona turns her back to Raphael, exposing her bare skin. Raphael uncovers his eyes. To his surprise, the lieutenant's back was covered in multiple scars and battle marks, all of different shapes and sizes. Each one looks worse and more painful than the last. Raph's eyes widened in surprise.

"Each one is a memory from my time on the battlefield. They are all of my past mistakes, the painful reminders of my past," Mona says looking away from Raph.

"Oh my God..."

Raph gently places his hand on her back, feeling the scars in his palm. He couldn't imagine what she has been through, the torture and trauma from being at war. Raph couldn't control himself, and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"Mona, I'm so sorry..." Raph said in a heartbroken voice. He examined her scars, each one hurting him by just looking at them, but one stood out from the rest. The scar that was on her lower back, right above her tail. It was dark and he could tell that whatever it was stabbed deep into her body. It even looked like at one point it was infected.

Raph gently rubs the injury, "W-what happened here?" he asked, unsure if he really wants to know the truth.

From where Raphael's hand was resting, Mona could tell which scar he was referring to. She stayed silent as her eyes began to water, refusing to look at Raphael.

That's when Raph realizes what the scar was from, or who it was from. Lord Dregg. The scopinoid stung her when she was trying to help Raph and his brothers escape from Lord Dregg's planet. The poison from the sting infected her, nearly killed her. Fugitoid was able to stop the poison from spreading, but he never told Raph that the injury resulted in this horrific scar.

"Mona... I-"

"You say I don't have to look at my scars negatively, but that's all I can do with them, especially with that one!" Mona says angrily as she puts back on her shirt and turns to Raph. "It's an external reminder of what I did to you! It is my punishment for the worst mistake of my life!" Tears began to run down Mona's cheeks.

"Mona, it wasn't your fault," Raph said trying to comfort her, "It was Dregg. He blackmailed you, forced you to do those things. You had no choice."

"But I still hurt you and your family!" she says as she continues to cry. "I-I was horrible to you... This is my punishment. I deserve this pain..."

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT!" Raph screamed as he grabbed her arms and looked her in the eyes. He began to cry, "I never want you to think you deserve punishment for something you had no control over! It kills me to know that you feel like you deserve to be hurt! If anyone should feel horrible, it's me! I let my anger get the better of me and if I had just forgiven you when you apologized then you wouldn't have gone off to fight Dregg. I should have been by your side to protect you. It's my fault... I should've been there..." Raph rests his head on Mona's chest as he continues to cry, "I-I was the one who gave you that scar..."

"Raphael... please don't say that..." Mona then hugged Raphael as she comforted him. They embraced as they cried.

The couple stayed silent for a few minutes as they continued to embrace, feeling safe and at peace in each others’ arms.

"I guess we both did things we regret, huh?" Mona Lisa whispered, still holding Raphael.

"Yeah... we did," Raph whispered back. "But look at us now. We made it through a lot and were still together."

The couple end their hug and look at each other. Their eyes are swollen and red. Sore. But those eyes gaze at each other lovingly. Smiling, they wipe their eyes.

Mona places her hand on her lower back, touching the scar, "Maybe it can have a different meaning?" she suggests.

Raphael takes both her hands and holds them in his. "The scar can be proof that no matter what life throws at us, in the end we will still be together. Our care, trust, and love for each other is strong."

"Proof that our love is strong," she smiles as Raph nods, "I like that."

At that moment, Raphael and Mona Lisa leaned toward each other and joined in a soft, tender kiss.

They both knew they'd made mistakes from the past. Mistakes that cannot be changed, but they know their past actions do not have to define them. They've learned from those mistakes. They would make sure not to repeat them.

As the kiss ends, Raph looks at his girlfriend lovingly as he caresses her cheek. "I promise I will never let anyone hurt you ever again," he whispers.

Mona smiles as she gently holds his hand that lays on her cheek and whispers, "As do I."

"I love you, Mona Lisa."

"I love you, too, Raphael."

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 21- Professional Rivals (Very, very late)

...yeah. I am. Very behind. But I’m trying to work on it

I wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret this prompt. I ended up going with something a bit superhero-esque again, but a lot more lighthearted than the last one, sort of inspired by Dr. Doofenschmirtz and Perry the Playpus. Nothing too dark or serious, just kind of dumb.

Sin let the weight of his body more than anything else push the door open to his apartment as soon as he felt the lock click. He managed to avoid stumbling over and hitting the carpet face-first, but only barely. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him in the state he was in. Though he did notice a pair of slip-ons by the door, which made his shoulders sag further with an emotion he didn’t have a word for.

“Hey, Mattie.” He called into the empty space, slumping against the door behind him. “I’m back.”

Soft footsteps echoed somewhere in the bathroom. “Sin? You’re home already?”

He managed to stand himself up again and take a few tentative steps, clinging onto the gash on his arm that had just barely begun to clot. “Yeah, ran out of tasks to do so they let me out early. Bridget on the night shift again?”

“No, he should be home in a few minutes, hence why I was so surprised it was you and not him.” Sin sat down on his bed and watched as the silhouette in the bathroom moved towards the doorframe. “He’s bringing pizza with him, though, so at least we have that to look forward-

The two of them paused in place, completely halted by the sight of each other’s state.

“...Wow.” They said, in perfect unison. “You look terrible.”

Sin ran a hand through his hair, immediately regretting it when he realized he was staining it with blood. “Hehe. Yeah, rough day at work today.”

“That looks remarkably painful.” Bedman limped over, a hand hovering over Sin’s cut arm. “You’re all scraped up...what happened?

++++++

Sin soared over the cityscape in a ball of lightning, sparks crackling off his skin in iridescent arcs. He wiped the blood running from his nose and tried to focus on the dark cloud hovering up ahead.

“You’re gonna have to hit harder than that to do me in, big guy!” He shouted over the rush of wind. With a few more sharp bursts, he was at eye-level with the peculiar contraption. “Brought a new toy today? Hope it’s sturdier than the one I trashed last week!”

His taunting was interrupted by a series of metallic clicks. A dozen or so little objects were ejected from the hovercraft, which unfolded into hovering metal discs that immediately began chasing after him.

“W-whoa- !” Sin shouted, barely managing to dodge their sharp blades.

“Don’t be getting cocky, dear Mr. Raiden!” A warped, mechanical voice resounded from the main machine. “You look so cute scared out of your mind!”

Sin grinned back at him. “Y’think I’m scared, Oneiroi?” He fired off another bolt, making one of them explode. “I’m just hoping these ones are an actual challenge this time!”

Heroics weren’t quite where he’d seen himself ending up, but he couldn’t have been happier. Saving the day, stopping the bad guy, and getting out a bit of extra energy. It wasn’t the most high-stakes hero town, he was the only one there, after all (and he couldn’t remember the last time Oneiroi had made a fully serious plan as far as he knew) but Sin was perfectly happy where he was.

Well, most of the time. In his distraction, a blade whizzed by, drawing blood and leaving a mark Sin didn’t even feel until a few moments later.

The remote drones immediately freezed in the air, bobbing harmlessly. “Oh- oh shit.” The electronic voice’s tone suddenly shifted, from aggrandizing and pompous to concerned. “That wasn’t supposed to do that. You okay?”

“Nggh- I’m fine.” He wasn’t done for the day, and he certainly wasn’t going to throw in the towel as soon as he’d gotten nicked! That was just pathetic, for both of them.

“Are you sure? I can give you a minute to sit down-”

Grinning under his mask, Sin grabbed the nearest drone and spun before hurling it right back at where it had come from, wreathed in electricity.

“Sit on this!”

++++++

“Bit of a funny story.” Replied Sin, grinning with a bit of cheek. “Was helping deliver another truckload of slate across the 4 & 15, and I guess they did a shitty job blowing up the tires or something, whole thing toppled right into some poor old lady’s backyard!”

His roommate seemed to find it much less funny, mouth opening in quiet shock before he uneasily sat down on the nearest bed.

“A car accident?? And you didn’t think to tell Bridget or I about this? Not even a text?!”

Sin threw up his hands, immediately wincing and going back to grabbing his arm. “Easy, man! I was fine, It wasn’t a big deal! Besides, you didn’t mention whatever happened to you.” He gestured to the other, a lot more carefully. “What’s with that ding on the back of your head? And why’s your wrist bandaged up?”

++++++

“DANGER. DANGER. SHIELD TAKING DAMAGE.”

“ -agh!” the projectile had managed to knock his ship’s gyroscope off a bit when it struck, throwing him into the far wall console. He winced at the sore, and not to mention wet spot on the back of his head when he went to touch it. He’d seen much worse, but it would definitely take a few days to heal.

He knew he was vulnerable, but a second hit didn’t come. “Uh, you okay in there?” A slightly muffled voice came through the speakers. “Too much?”

After making sure it hadn’t been damaged, Bedman patched through to the speaker system with his helmet. “Are you being facetious? That hardly scuffed my outer plating! You’re going to have to do better than that to damage- khh- ow-” He winced, immediately sitting back down as soon as he’d tried to prop himself up with his free hand. Had he twisted it? At least it wasn’t his writing arm…

“Seriously, need a breather?” The other said.

“N-no! I’m perfectly fine!” He managed to scrabble to his knees with one arm, clinging onto the control panel for support as he pulled himself up, panting with effort. He tried to grin wickedly. “But while you were distracted, Raiden, you have unwittingly lowered your guard! Take this!”

He slammed a fist down on one of the large, brightly-colored buttons (a bit cliche, but they were helpful for his astigmatism). The sound of rockets firing off was supposed to sound, but he found himself tilting his head at the silence.

“Uh...Oneiroi?” Raiden’s voice came through again. “Tech error?”

“No! No, I’m sure I just hit the wrong-” He smacked it again, but still nothing. “Um…”

A little sigh followed it. “Yeah, let’s- let’s take five, okay?”

++++++

“Well, erm, there was a bit of an incident down at the office.” He shrugged innocently. “Shiina asked me to refill the printer trays, and I thought it would be a good idea to bring the paper bundles up the stairs- you know, exercise and building muscle and all that- but I wasn’t as careful as I could have been, I suppose, and I...erm, fell down from the top step.”

Sin cringed. “Yikes. That’s gotta hurt. Definitely made a good call, wrapping it up.”

“And it looks like you should do the same.” Bedman walked off and came back with the first-aid kit and a wet washcloth, the latter of which he pressed against Sin’s arm. “Just sit still. So aside from that, was the rest of your day okay?”

“Yeah, totally, everything was fine. You?”

“I was having a bit of a rough patch, but I had a nice talk with one of the other coders, that was nice.”

“Oh, really?”

++++++

The front panel of the hovercraft had folded over into a neat little platform that now hosted a cooler and a foldout chair.

“You don’t drink, right? Lemon-Lime Fizz?” The villain asked, offering a can to his rival. Raiden continued to hover a few feet away, though in a perfectly comfortable lounge.

“Ooh, yeah, toss me that.” He cracked the can open as soon as it hit his fingers. “So what’s up? You seem out of it.”

Oneiroi tapped fingers on his helmet. “I guess I just feel a little off today. Didn’t expect you would notice.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, man! You’re my nemesis! I notice these things.”

He supposed that was true, and it was nice. He could remember nervously typing up a memo on Heroes4Villains.com (‘M25 evil engineer, coder and aspiring megalomaniac seeking monogamous hero rival, serious applicants only, please!) at a fellow villain’s behest. He’d never had a real nemesis, but he was happy having Raiden. A bit dense, but he was a skilled electromancer and he made for an excellent enemy to battle on a regular basis.

He thought a moment before speaking. “Am I not adequately menacing? I’m worried I’ve gotten...a bit out of practice, as it were.”

Raiden blinked in shock, before shaking his head and waving him down. “Nah, man! You’re totally menacing! Those new drones of yours were super scary!”

“You really thought so?”

“Yeah!”

“Maybe I should commit to the motif a bit more?” He pulled out a roll of blueprints and unfurled it. “I had a concept saved for an army of robotic sheep with laser eyes, but the outer casing was complicated and I wasn’t sure if it was too...what’s the word…’hokey?’ I’m no Terumi or anything but I’d like to avoid coming across as too silly, you know?”

“I get you, totally.” Raiden nodded. “I think a lot of villains aren’t into the whole ‘motif’ thing anymore, but I totally get wanting to have a theme. And those tend to be some of your most creative plots! Remember the time you flooded city hall with nightmare gas during the benefactor’s dinner? That was iconic!”

Oneiroi looked down at his blueprints again. “Perhaps I could give this model another go...I know I didn’t exactly have a whole plan thought out for next tuesday. Maybe I could use my laser sheep to kidnap the mayor…?"

The other man smiled in approval. “Sounds good to me! Mayor Whitefang sounded like he needed a break from desk work too, he could probably use another kidnapping-for-ransom. It’s been a while since you did that!”

As he went to say something, a light began to blink and beep on Oneiroi’s gauntlet. “I wasn’t expecting that to pop up so soon.”

“Got a call or something?”

“Promised I’d help another villain remodel their evil lair, I wanted to cancel but they couldn’t get anyone else to help out. Is it fine if I leave early?”

Raiden nodded again. “Sure, sure man, by all means. I get it. Uh, and this is why you never underestimate the power of the good guys?”

“Of course. Curse you, Raiden? I’ll beat you next time?”

++++++

“...Yeah. It was nice.”

“Well, guess it wasn’t that bad of a day after all!” Sin beamed, throwing his bandaged arm around his roommate’s shoulders as soon as he had finished. “And now, all we’ve gotta do is chillax and wait! Hopefully Bridget ‘ll be back soon with dinner.”

“I don’t suppose we would happen to be getting garlic knots, as well…?

“You know it!”

“Excellent.”

[lizzie-boo]

Tell Me Why-Ficmas Day 5

Remus Lupin x Reader

Words: 1,969

A/N: So I don’t know how I feel about this. I did my best but I’m feeling a bit sick so I’d rather be sleeping than writing. But hey, day five’s story is here and wow it’s longer than the rest. Hopefully, you like this. Let me know if there is anyone you want me to write about or an idea you would like to see during Ficmas. 

~~~

The fire had started to die down by the time that I had composed myself enough to make it up to the dorm room. This was it, our last night in Hogwarts. From here on out it was just me trying to survive the world all alone. Alone, the word was an ugly reminder of everything that I had lost this week. If only I had known something was off, that this was coming I could’ve steeled my heart. Then it wouldn’t have hurt so much.

Taking the stairs two at a time I try to quietly slip into my room. To my surprise, Lily is sitting up in bed waiting for me. She pats the spot next to her and I take a seat next to her, leaning my head on her shoulder. Her hand comes up to rub comforting circles on my back.

“How are you feeling?” she whispers.

“It hurts,” I confide in her.

“It’s gonna be okay hun, he’s stupid and doesn’t know what an awesome girl he just let go of. Besides you can find someone better.” Lily wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight side hug.

“I just don’t understand, I thought we were fine. We had just been talking about moving in together when we got out of here.” A new set of tears well in my eyes and one by one the tears slide down my cheeks.

I hate myself for crying over him. I shouldn’t let him have this much control over my emotions. Yet, just the thought of him makes my heart break a little bit more. After everything we had been through, all the years we’d been together, and all we’d shared he broke up with me and didn’t even give me a reason.

“Babe, Remus will regret everything he’s ever done to you the second I get my hands on him.” The glint in her eyes is all too familiar. The same one she had back in the day when James would relentlessly peruse her. I knew Remus wouldn’t be expecting what Lily would do to him. For a moment the thought of him hurting as much as I am made me happy.

“Thanks, Lil, I don’t know what I would do without you.” I lift my head off her should and give her a small smile.

She gives my hand a small squeeze before speaking up once more, “And I know it hurts now but trusts me if he isn’t willing to stick around then he’s not worth it, you can do so much better.”

I crawl into my bed, careful to not wake any of my other roommates. Pulling the blankets over my head I let out a sob. I had spent three years of my life with him and now it was all a waste. He had broken up with me for no reason, just that we should go our separate ways after graduation because it would be for the best. So tomorrow would be the last day he’d be part of my life. After that, I would avoid him as much as possible considering we have the same friends.

The days after graduation moved slower than I thought they would. I moved into my own flat a few weeks after graduation and began learning to cope with the loneliness I felt. It was hard, all of my friends had their own lives and were busy. Not to mention they were trying to divide their time between Remus and me since I refused to be near him.

Some nights were harder than others. Sometimes I would sit in the kitchen with a glass of wine and cry because this wasn’t supposed to be how it played out. I should’ve been living here with him by my side. It should’ve been our apartment, not just mine.

Sadly, tonight was one of those nights for me. I was sitting on the counter in the cramped kitchen, ice cream on one side and a glass of wine on the other. I knew it was silly, that I should’ve been over the breakup by now and I was, for the most part. It’s just those nights where it all came creeping back that broke me down and left me sobbing in my kitchen.

It was worse tonight because Christmas was just around the corner and this had been my favorite time of year to share with Remus. I loved spending the days leading up to Christmas with him, it was some of the best memories we shared. Looking at the bare tree in the living room had caused the memories to come flooding back and I couldn’t hold in the tears that I learned to keep bottled up.

Taking another bite of ice cream I kicked my legs against the cabinets. The soft thudding of my feet against the wood helped ground me. It gave me something to think about, sometimes I even found myself trying to time the kicks with random songs. A knock at the door stirs me from my thoughts. The clock on the wall reads almost two in the morning and I let confusion sink in.

I grab my wand off the counter, wary of who might be on the other side of the door. These days I could never be too cautious, especially with the wizarding world on the brink of war. Wand at the ready I slowly opened the door. Peering around the door I dropped my wand in shock.

Standing in front of me was a beaten and bloodied Remus Lupin. There was a deep cut just above the scars on his cheek and a large portion of his shirt was coated in dark red blood. Stepping aside I wordlessly let him in. He followed me to the small bathroom down the hall. I sat him down on the edge of the tub and looked at him under the bright bathroom light. There was a multitude of small scratches littering his face.

“What happened?” I ask while digging through the cabinet to find the first aid kit that I knew I had somewhere. Cursing under my breath I turn to check the cabinet over the toilet. Finally finding it I turn back to Remus waiting for an explanation.

“It was the full moon, tonights was worse than normal. James and Sirius were with me and took me back to James’ to patch me up.”

“Okay that’s great and all but doesn’t explain why your still bleeding or in my flat!” I exclaim, gesturing with the washcloth in my hand.

“Well I walked in and their whole house was all decorated for Christmas and all I could think of was how happy you are at Christmas and I just ran. I just wanted to see you,” he explains while you dab at the gash on his cheek.

“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to break up with me for absolutely no reason. Which might I add was a dick move on your part. Next time you break someone’s heart at least tell them why,” I yell at him while wiping his face harder.

He winces at the pressure and I move back. Throwing the washcloth in the sink I open the first aid kit.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be easier to just leave than try to make you see my side of it.” He tugs at his shirt and I gesture at him to take it off. He pulls the gray fabric over his head and drops it on the floor by his feet.

I try not to stare at his bare chest but it’s been so long since I’d last seen him like that. Despite how angry I was with him I couldn’t help admire his bare chest.

“And what exactly was your side of it? Was I not good enough for you? Did you finally get sick of me?”

I begin to clean the deep gashes on his chest and stomach as he tries to explain himself.

“It was never any of that, quite the opposite actually. I didn’t think I was worthy and I was worried that when we got out into the real world that you would realize that I was tying you down. You’re destined to do great things and I’m just a monster.” He looks up into my eyes and his sincerity shines bright.

“That is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” I place a bandage over the cut on his chest and run my hand over it to smooth it out.

“I didn’t want to lose you and I was so worried over it that I ended it. I was stupid and I wasn’t thinking right but I realize how wrong I was now.” He grabs my hand and holds it against his chest and I have to turn away.

“You should’ve talked to me, we could’ve worked through it. If you had opened up to me about how you were feeling then we would still be together.” Looking in the mirror I take in my appearance and mentally cursing myself for staying up so late and drinking so much. This wasn’t how I thought of seeing him again would go.

“I know that now, I’m so sorry. I was foolish to think that letting you go was the best option. I miss you so much.” The way his eyes tear up causes my heart to stir.

“I’ve missed you too but you really hurt me. You left me and all the plans we had for after graduation without a reason.” I tug the sleeves of my jumper down, a habit that seemed to only pop up when I was feeling nervous.

“I’m sorry if I could take it all back I would in a heartbeat. I’d give anything to be living with you like we planned. All I ever wanted and still want is to have you by my side and I screwed it up. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you.”

For the first time, he stands and takes a step towards me. Placing his hand on my arm he looks into my eyes. His damn eyes, they always get me and I can’t help but feel my resolve crack as he looks at me. His hand slides up my arm and I shiver slightly. It had been a long few months without him around and now with him here I can’t help but want to be in his arms again.

“I just don’t know anymore,” I mumble.

He places his hand under my chin and tilts my face up until I’m looking at him. It’s then that he hesitantly leans down to capture my lips in a kiss.

“Please just give me another chance,” he whispers against my lips.

I place my lips back and his and feel him smile into the kiss. It’s all he needs to know that I’m willing to give it another try. He wraps his arms around my waist pulling me closer. My hands roam his chest, careful not to touch his injuries.

I tug at his messy brown locks and he lets out a small moan. His hands travel down my back and soon find a place in the back pockets of my jeans. Before I know it I’m wrapping my legs around his waist and he carries me toward the bedroom.

It felt nice to be in his arms again. I had missed this so much in the months that we were apart. And no matter how upset I had been with him before it all seemed better now that I was back in his arms. The thought of having him by my side again this Christmas made my heart swell with joy.

[silverlightqueen]

Ruin My Life

Based on Ruin My Life by Zara Larsson

RML masterlist

(fratboy!Jimin bc I’m a slut for douchey Jimin🤷🏽‍♀️) - smut, flirty banter, angst and fluff to come

Word Count - 8.7k+

Summary - After an eventful afternoon in the library and an unexpected reunion, you end up sending a text that you might regret...

Warnings - v v smutty!!! dom!Jimin, daddy kink, oral, dirty talking, intercourse, spanking, thigh riding, a lil bit of everything ig

a/n: so this went in a very different direction than I intended it to when I started writing it lol, but I actually like the plot twist so here ya go. also, this is definitely going to be a series and hopefully I’ll be uploading part 2 very soon bc I've already started on it lmao. Please tell me what y’all think, I’d love to get some feedback💕

Edit: Part 2 is out now, link in my masterlist💕

I love university. Everything about it. My course is super interesting and there’s never a moment when I think I’d rather be doing a different course. My lecturers are super cool and understanding, all of them young, so they know what we’re going through, and considerate. My friends and roommate are all amazing people and they’ll never give me a chance to be sad or bored, always on hand to cheer me up and take me out. The parties are always so much fun and I’m lucky enough to have never had a bad experience with a drunk and horny boy, or a group of bitchy girls. So yes, unlike some others around here, I love university with my whole heart and soul. I’m one of those annoying people who shows up to early morning lectures with a coordinated and pristine outfit, a full face of makeup and perfect hair, my laptop and matching stationery ready, as well as a Starbucks and breakfast. I wake up happy in the mornings and go to sleep happy at night. And this isn’t one of those stories where I’m going to rattle on about how much I love university and then say that there’s one exception to the rule. No, definitely not. This is a slightly different story. Because I was pondering how much I love university whilst sat at a desk in the library, book in hand, both headphones in, just as something happened which would cause a chain of events which would in turn change my view on my university for the rest of my life. Maybe even ruin my life as it is, for better and for worse.

Someone leans against the desk beside me and pulls out one headphone, Drake being cut off mid-rap, and I look up, expecting it to be my roommate, Mija, or one of my other friends, but instead, it’s a surprise, and not exactly a nice one. ‘Hello, darling,’ Kim Taehyung says, looking down at me with a small smirk. He’s dressed in the school’s football kit, shorts to his knees, and a loose t-shirt, and he holds his varsity jacket over his shoulder. I sigh, knowing that this probably won’t end well. ‘My name isn’t darling,’ I say quietly, but he reacts to the words like I shouted them in his face, flinching slightly. ‘Well, obviously, y/n,’ he chuckles, saying it with emphasis as a way to prove that he knows my name, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Can I help you, Taehyung?’ I ask, putting my book down and leaning back in my seat, knowing he isn’t going to leave easily. ‘Yes, actually, babe. I wanted to ask something of you,’ he says, his jawline clenched once the words leave his mouth, and I roll my eyes. ‘Ask it then, and I’ll see if it’s worth my time,’ I say, and his lips quirk up in amusement.

Now, I feel like I should explain something. I’m not a bitch, okay? I’m super nice. I’m one of those girls that gets along with everyone, little kids, old people and everyone in between. I could get along with a brick wall if I had to. I’m sociable, kind and easy to talk to. But frat boys… frat boys are the one exception. I’m lucky enough to not have to see them most of the time, my schedule conflicting with theirs, and we don’t really run in the same social circles. But Taehyung and his friends, I’d been unfortunate enough to encounter them a few times more than I would ever want to. Not direct encounters, though. Through my friends, and their heartbreaks, one-night stands, rejections and short relationships with the boys. I’d had to wipe away their tears, console them and spend nights chatting shit about the boys more times that I can count. It had become tiring to say the least. So, please, forgive me for the way I’m speaking to Taehyung, because he deserves it.

‘Let me take you out?’ he asks, and my lips curl up into a grin. ‘Ah, you and your stupid friends are really not as funny as you seem to think you are. Is this a bet, or a dare? Or are you getting something for it? Money, maybe? If you are, I’ll say yes, and I get half,’ I say, and he looks surprised, trying to keep up with my words. ‘Wait, what? This isn’t a dare, and it’s not for money,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So, it’s a bet then?’ I ask, and he shakes his head hastily. ‘Can’t a guy ask a girl out for the sake of it?’ he asks, tilting his head in a way he must think is endearing. It is, to be honest, but I wouldn’t admit it to him in a million years; he already knows how intimidatingly handsome he is. ‘What makes you want to ask me out? What’s special about me?’ I challenge. ‘Of course you’re special, baby,’ he says, mistaking me trying to catch him out as insecurity. The way the words roll of his tongue with such ease tell me he’s said them many times before, and it makes me even more annoyed. ‘I know I’m special, dumbass, way too special to be dealing with this right now. I wanna know what you think is so special about me to ask me out,’ I explain exasperatedly. ‘You’re, like, clever, and stuff. And you’re pretty,’ he says with a grin, thinking he’s done well. ‘I’m clever, pretty, and stuff?’ I ask deadpan, and he nods proudly. ‘Wow, thanks!’ I say sarcastically, and then he seems to clock that I’m not too impressed with his observations. ‘To save myself from any more of the bullshit that has been nonstop exiting your mouth for the past minute, I’m going to ask you to leave now,’ I say, and I hear choked laughter from behind me. I don’t bother to turn and look, knowing that it’s probably his stupid friends, and continue staring at Taehyung, waiting for him to leave. ‘I’ll see you around, y/n,’ he grins, strutting away. I roll my eyes, putting my headphone back in and getting back to work, incorrect in thinking that that was the end of it. Only a few minutes later, and I have another visitor.

‘I guess my desk is the place to be this afternoon, huh?’ I ask as I pull out a headphone, looking up to see Hoseok smirking down at me, dressed in the same kit as Tae, his varsity jacket on instead. ‘It’s not because of the desk, though,’ he says, and I nearly laugh out loud. ‘Can I help you, Hobi? Because I have loads of work to do,’ I sigh tiredly. ‘Fuck the work, do me instead,’ he says with a grin, and I choke. ‘Wow, you’re… straightforward, I’ll give you that. But you do know that no girl with more than one braincell would ever be flattered or turned on after being spoken to like that?’ I reply with a raised eyebrow. ‘And you’ve got more than one braincell, have you, y/n?’ he asks, a mischievous grin playing at his lips. ‘Yes, more than can be said for you and your friends. Now whatever stupid game it is that you guys are playing, give it up and leave me alone. I’m busy,’ I say in annoyance. ‘Too busy for me? Don’t hurt me, y/n,’ he says, his mouth constantly stretched into that stupidly handsome smile. ‘Even if I’m watching paint dry, I’m still too busy for you,’ I say, and he clutches his heart dramatically. ‘How can you hurt me this way, babe?’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Leave, Hobi, I’m not dealing with your stupidity anymore,’ I say, putting my headphone back in, not waiting to see if he’s left or not. I’m lucky to be left in peace for a few minutes, until another of their stupid friends bothers me.

‘Oh, this had better be good,’ I say, putting my book down again, looking up to see Jungkook smiling his annoyingly cute bunny smile at me, his jacket tied around his small waist. ‘Trust me, baby, if it’s to do with me, it will be,’ he says confidently, my eyebrow quirking up. ‘Arrogance? Not the best way to seduce a girl,’ I say. ‘Who says I’m trying to seduce you?’ he asks, trying not to grin, and I laugh. ‘Don’t be silly, Jeon.’ ‘Who’s the arrogant one now?’ he says, and I give an impressed nod. ‘Touché. So, what have you come over here to ask me to do? Are you gonna beat around the bush like Tae and ask me out on a date, or are you gonna get straight to the point like Hobi and tell me to do you?’ I ask, and I can see him try not to laugh. ‘How about I take you out and then you do me? Or rather, I do you?’ he suggests, and I nod as I digest his words, trying not to let the way his words affect me show. ‘What a… tempting offer. But no, thank you, I have much more important things to do,’ I say, and he pouts at me. ‘More important than me? I didn’t think it was possible,’ he says ponderingly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘God, you’re annoying. You must be insane if you think you have any importance in my life,’ I say, and he hisses, pretending to be hurt. ‘Ouch. Come on, noona, you know you find me attractive,’ he says, and I laugh aloud. ‘What’s the game? Is it a bet to see who can get me on a date?’ I ask, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re clever,’ he says, revealing it straight away. ‘I am, but even someone with your IQ could figure that out after having three morons from the same friendship group come up to you in the space of twenty minutes,’ I say. ‘I’ll have you know my IQ is higher than average. 128, to be precise,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow at his IQ being mere points off mine. ’28? Sounds about right,’ I say, and he laughs a genuine laugh. ‘You’re a funny girl, y/n. I’m actually genuinely asking you out now, not because of the dare,’ he says, and I grin, amused. ‘Maybe some other time, Kook, when I’m not so busy,’ I say, taking pity on the boy before scrawling down my number on a piece of paper. ‘Don’t hit me up if you want your dick sucked, that’s not what this is for. Send me your name so I have your number, and I’ll let you know when I’m free if I don’t change my mind,’ I say, and he grins victoriously as he takes it from me, the boys behind causing a ruckus. ‘Can I have a kiss for the road?’ he asks, a cheeky smile on his annoyingly cute face, and I laugh. ‘Run along, Jeon,’ I say, and he does so, leaving me laughing to myself.

Only a few minutes later, someone takes a seat opposite me, and I supress a sigh. ‘I’m not gonna fuck around like those kids, I’m gonna get straight to it. Let me take you out,’ Seokjin says once I’ve taken out a headphone, and I raise an eyebrow at his straightforward statement. ‘Well, what a way to woo a girl, Jin. God knows how you’ve managed to get so many girls into your bed,’ I say, and he gives me a smile, staggeringly handsome with his dark hair hanging over onto his forehead, his kit the same as the other boys. ‘I get into theirs, they don’t get into mine. Imagine the germs. I’d let you, though, babe,’ he smiles, and my heart jumps. ‘Thank you, I’m flattered, but I’d rather not step foot anywhere other than the downstairs of your frat house for as long as I live,’ I say, and he laughs his endearingly loud laugh, sounding distinctly like a windshield wiper. ‘I don’t mind coming to yours,’ he offers. ‘So you took that obvious rejection as an offer to come to my apartment? God, you frat boys really are dense, huh?’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘So you don’t want me?’ he asks. ‘No, Seokjin, I don’t.’ ‘You gave your number to Jungkook,’ he points out, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘He wore me down. And he’s cute, I guess,’ I admit, and Jin gives me a sceptical look. ‘So I’m not cute?’ ‘No, you aren’t cute, and you know that that’s not an appropriate word to describe you at all,’ I say, the subliminal message obvious to him. ‘So you find me attractive, then?’ he asks. ‘So is this about getting validation or about asking me out? Because it’s sure seeming like the former,’ I say. ‘I don’t need validation, babe, I know I’m handsome. I just want to know how you feel about me,’ he says, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. ‘I think you’re handsome, but I don’t have any kind of emotional or physical attraction to you in the slightest, Jin. My apologies but go find a girl who will fawn over you like you want her to,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Fair enough, I gave it a try, I guess,’ he says, getting up. ‘And it was a good one at that,’ I say, taking pity on him, and putting a sympathetic hand on his forearm, and the boys start to pipe up behind me. ‘See you later, Y/N,’ he says, and I smile at him.

Next, I have someone filling the seat beside me, and I roll my eyes, knowing this stupid roleplay is unavoidable. ‘Hey, y/n,’ I hear once I’ve removed my headphone, and the voice brings a smile to my face. Perhaps the only one I actually like out of them all. ‘Hey, Joon,’ I say, with a wide smile, hearing the boys whispering once more. ‘I… I’m sorry, this is so dumb,’ he says with a shake of his head, and I laugh. ‘It’s okay. I guess it’s kind of brought me some entertainment for this afternoon,’ I say. ‘It was a stupid bet to see if any of us would actually be able to get you to agree to going out with us,’ he says. ‘Where did it come from though? Why did it even come up into conversation?’ I ask, curious, the handsome man rolling his eyes. ‘We were supposed to have a meeting with the Dean of the school in here, something about the frat, but she had to reschedule, and we ended up staying in here because we had nothing else to do. Then Tae spotted you, and asked when you got so hot, and I said you’ve always been hot, because you have, and then one thing led to another, and Tae bet he could get you to go out with him, so all the rest of us bet too, because we’re mindlessly competitive morons,’ he explains, and I crack up at his last few words. ‘Well,’ I say in a low voice, smiling gently as I lean closer to him and place a hand onto his chest for effect, ‘you can go back and tell them that I said I’d definitely go out with you, and I said I’d take you home too, because we really are due a catch-up, and we haven’t binged a series since freshman year.’ He grins at my physical deception to the boys, my words about reconnecting as friends conflicting greatly with my actions, and brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. ‘I’ll text you soon,’ he says, getting up, and I smile at him. ‘Please do,’ I say, the boys reacting far too loudly for the library.

And then I get another visitor ten minutes later. ‘I’m gonna cut to the chase. What’s it gonna take for you to give me your number just so I can shut the boys up?’ Yoongi asks me, and I let out a laugh. ‘You need to convince me,’ I reply as he takes the seat beside me. ‘What did Namjoon and Jungkook do? Did they bribe you?’ he asks, his big brown eyes dancing as he grins mischievously. ‘No, neither of them bribed me. They used their natural charm,’ I say, and he grimaces. ‘I don’t have any of that so would you take a bribe?’ he asks, and I laugh again. ‘You are charming, and witty,’ I say, and he raises his eyebrows. ‘Why does it sound like you’re trying to get my number?’ he asks, and again, he has me laughing, effortlessly funny. ‘Aw, Yoongi, you’re funny. But no, I don’t take bribes,’ I say, and he fake scowls. ‘Not money? Or food?’ he asks, and I contemplate this for a moment. ‘Yeah, probably,’ I say, and he grins the most adorable gummy smile I’ve seen in my life. ‘Okay, I’ll buy you takeout of your choice on any given night. Just text me and I’ll order it to your apartment,’ he says, and I consider his offer. ‘I’ll one-up you; I’m gonna have Joon over soon for a day of binge-watching Netflix. You can come too as long as you bring snacks and then order dinner,’ I bargain, and he nods, ‘Deal.’ ‘Perfect. Let me put my number in your phone and then text me later,’ I say, and he hands me his phone with a smug look at the boys. They let out outraged noises as I put my number in his phone, trying not to laugh as I see the librarian stomping over in their direction. ‘Thanks, y/n, you’re a real one,’ he says, and I grin, shaking my head as he walks away. But the last visitor I get, around twenty minutes later, is definitely the most… unwelcome.

‘Hey, princess. Long time, no see,’ he says after plucking out a headphone, and his voice sends a chill through me. Okay, so maybe I lied when I said I hadn’t directly encountered any of them. One of them may or may not be an ex-fuck buddy (I hate that phrase but it’s the best way to describe it, because we definitely weren’t friends with benefits). It’d been a low point in my university life, when I’d broken up with a long-term boyfriend and wanted to go crazy for a little, and I guess that’s what I ended up doing. Or rather, who I ended up doing. No one other than my roommate knows about our fling, as far as I’m aware, and it’d ended after a few months. We haven’t spoken since, and every time I’ve seen him in real life, I’ve practically run in the other direction to avoid him. It’s not that we ended on bad terms; it’s just… awkward. And now, here he is. Sat on the desk beside me, looking as handsome as ever in his football kit, his thick thighs and strong arms straining against the material, his varsity jacket tied low on his hips. He runs a hand through his newly dyed dirty blond locks, smirking as he watches my eyes travel over his body.

‘Hey, Jimin,’ I reply, not really knowing what else to say. ‘That’s not what you used to call me,’ he says with a smirk, looking down at me with sparkling eyes. ‘It’s what I called you when we were around other people,’ I point out, and he grins widely, his pearly whites out on display. ‘How have you been, princess? I’ve missed you,’ he pouts, and I roll my eyes, trying to act like his nickname for me doesn’t affect me in the slightest. ‘I really doubt that, Jimin. Did you even have enough time in your… busy schedule to miss me?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, his grin becoming even wider. ‘Now, babe, don’t get jealous. You know that when I was with you, I was with only you, no one else. So, don’t act like the scorned woman,’ he reprimands me, running a hand through his hair again, and I roll my eyes once more. ‘What a privilege,’ I say sarcastically, and he shakes his head at me. ‘Look how you treat me. After everything we went through together,’ he says. ‘The only thing we went through together was a jumbo pack of condoms,’ I say, and he bursts out laughing. ‘I forgot how funny you are, babe,’ he says, and I try not to smile at seeing him look so happy. ‘Listen, don’t be mad at me for moving on. As much as I hate to bring it up, you’re the one that ended things with me, though only God knows why. We were good together, right?’ he asks, and I nod, knowing he’s right; we were. ‘So why did you end it?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you really wanna know, Jimin?’ I ask, and he nods, watching me interestedly. ‘Because I started to catch feelings for you,’ I admit, watching his face for any kind of reaction, but he doesn’t show any sign of emotion, his face not changing in the slightest. ‘And?’ he asks after a few seconds, hand sweeping through his hair again. ‘Two reasons. One, I’d just gotten out of a relationship, and wasn’t looking to get into another one. Two, you weren’t, and still aren’t, the type of guy to even want a relationship, so there was no point continuing what we had, because I would’ve fallen for you more and more, and it wouldn’t have gone anywhere,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Because you know me so well?’ he asks, and I nod with a small smile. ‘I knew you better than you thought I did,’ I say, and he nods, digesting my words.

‘Well, what do you say we give us a go again, Y/N?’ he asks seriously, and I nearly choke. ‘What, like… do what we used to do?’ I ask, and he nods with a small smile, running a hand through his hair. God, it’s so sexy when he does that. ‘Obviously. Not a relationship, you said it yourself, you know I’m not that guy. Unless you’re gonna go catching feelings again,’ he says, and I scoff. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve matured. Just as much as you’ve become more of a douche,’ I say, and he holds his chest in mock pain. ‘Ouch, princess, you really know how to hurt me, huh?’ he jokes, and I stick my tongue out at him. ‘Thanks for trying to pimp yourself out to me, Jimin, but no, thank you. I’ve passed that stage in my life,’ I say, putting on a snooty voice, and he pulls a face at me, scrunching up his nose adorably. ‘Come on, princess, for old times’ sake. Just one more time. Then I’ll leave you alone,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Can’t you go ask some naïve freshman who doesn’t know you well and will think she’s ‘oh-so special’?’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Princess, you were the naïve freshman at one point, remember?’ he says. ‘We were sophomores,’ I point out. ‘Regardless. Nothing like a one-last-time fuck, huh?’ he says, his casual way with words igniting something long forgotten inside me.

‘Go ask someone else, Jimin,’ I say, looking away from him, knowing if he doesn’t leave soon, I won’t be able to resist him much longer. ‘Don’t you understand, y/n? I’m asking you because I want it to be you. I don’t just want any old sex, I want good sex, and, as much as this is majorly wounding my pride to admit this to you, you are the best I’ve had,’ he says, his tone honest and shameless, and my eyes widen. ‘Seriously? I’m the best? Out of like the other 200 girls you’ve fucked?’ ‘Hey! Don’t downplay me, more like 300,’ he jokes, and I try to hold back a laugh. ‘You’re probably a walking STD,’ I say with a disgusted shake of my head, and he lets out a small laugh. ‘Fine, y/n, but you have my number still, right? You know where I am if you need me,’ he says, getting up. But he hesitates before leaving. ‘I really did mean it when I said I missed you, princess,’ he says, our eyes locked together as he runs a hand through his soft locks, and I look away, embarrassed. He leaves then, and all I can think is, I missed you too.

And it is that thought, resounding in my mind all afternoon, for the rest of my stay in the library, on my way home, during movie night with my roommate, that leads me to do what I nearly do. My fingers ghosting over the screen of my phone, hovering over the send button, I look up at the screen briefly. ‘I can’t believe the main character died already. Her death was so sad,’ my roommate, Mija, says. ‘I know,’ I reply half-heartedly, looking back at my phone. ‘You bitch! You really haven’t paid attention at all! The main character hasn’t died! And he’s a guy!’ she shouts, hitting me repeatedly with a pillow. ‘Ow, Mija! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Just stop! Mija!’ I shriek, the other girl finally giving up. ‘Right, explain. Why have you been staring at your phone for the past hour?’ she asks. I give in instantly, telling her of the events of the library, specifically my conversation with Jimin, and she gives me the perfect reactions, gasping and laughing in all the right places. She really is the best person to tell stories to. Once I’m done, she stares at me. ‘What are you waiting for then?’ she asks, and I stare stupidly at her, confused. ‘What?’ ‘Message him, you idiot!’ ‘Oh! Yeah, but what if I catch feelings again? He basically said today that he is not up for a relationship,’ I say. ‘So, fuck him once last time, and be done with it,’ she says. ‘You think?’ I say. ‘I know! He told you you’re the best sex he’s ever had, you dumb bitch! For Park Jimin to say that, it must’ve been fucking good, so don’t let that opportunity go to waste,’ she says. ‘Okay, okay, stop cussing me out!’ I say in mock hurt, and she rolls her eyes. ‘Text him, you moron. I’m gonna go see our neighbours, and you’d better put on that brand-new Agent Provocateur set we bought together,’ she says threateningly, jumping up from the sofa and leaving in her pyjamas, phone and popcorn in hand, before I can even say anything. I grab my phone and send the text before I psych myself out. I quickly put my phone on speaker for once and then begin to clean up the living room. I get a text back around a minute later and I practically pounce at my phone. The text I see simultaneously makes me roll my eyes and smile, before I lock my phone and rush around tidying. Then I quickly slip out of my comfies and into a black lingerie set; bra, pants, suspenders, lace, sheer, straps, the whole shebang.  I quickly tidy my room too, and then take a seat on the couch again, acting all calm and collected, flicking through the music channels on the TV impatiently.

Only sixteen minutes after I sent the text, I hear a knock at the door and wait until he knocks again before getting up to answer the door. I pull it open slightly, looking through the small gap, his dark eyes meeting mine. He looks positively delectable, dressed in a pair of light blue distressed jeans with rips that reveal strong thighs, and a white t-shirt with the word ‘Lovers’ printed across the front in black writing, a fitted black leather jacket over the top. A silver earring dangles from his left ear, a silver hoop in the other, and his hair is parted just slightly off-centre, a small strip of his forehead exposed.  ‘I hate it when you leave me waiting. I nearly ran a guy over driving here, and this is what I get in return?’ he growls, only half-hearted annoyance behind the words, and I pull the door completely open, letting him in. ‘Wow,’ he says, stopping in his tracks in the doorway, his eyes raking over my body shamelessly, ‘all this for me, princess?’ I smile coyly, shy under his burning gaze, and brush a lock of hair behind my ear. ‘All for you, Jimin,’ I say, and he takes a step into the room, throwing the door closed with a thud.

He practically throws himself at me, his hands gripping at my waist as his lips find my neck. ‘Now, now, princess, that’s not what you call me when we’re alone, is it?’ he murmurs against my skin, the feel of him touching me again nearly making me melt in his arms. ‘No, daddy,’ I breathe out, and he exhales shakily, his lips pulling and biting at the tender skin below my jaw. ‘Fuck, it’s been so long,’ he whispers, his hands snaking around my thighs, pulling me upwards. I get the hint, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist, my actions a result of muscle memory, and he walks towards my bedroom, his lips still working on my neck. He kicks the door open, the loud noise making me jump, and he lets out a gentle laugh at my reaction, before he virtually throws me down onto the bed. He climbs over me, his toned body hovering over my smaller frame, and he stares down at me. ‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he whispers before pressing his lips to mine, our bodies fitting together perfectly.

He parts his lips and I follow suit, his tongue easily sliding into my mouth to meet mine, and the way our mouths work together in perfect harmony brings memories of long nights past rushing back. The hand that isn’t holding him up grazes up and down my side as my hands grip his back, feeling the soft leather against my skin. I tangle my fingers into his soft hair, the locks sliding between them like silk, and pull on it, feeling him groan into my mouth. Our kiss becomes more heated and passionate, all dancing tongues and clashing teeth. The taste of mint and something distinctly Jimin has me wanting more. I didn’t realise how much I missed the feeling of him, and I relish every moment that his hand digs into my waist and his mouth works against mine. I pull his plump lower lip between my teeth before running my tongue over it, and he groans again, the sound heavenly. He rolls us over, so I lay atop him, and both of his hands furiously explore my body, tracing the curves of my back, waist and hips, and gripping onto my ass tightly. My hands rest on either side of his face, our lips still attached, my hair falling around us like a curtain. ‘Princess,’ he breathes out against my lips, and I pull away by a millimetre, our noses touching, the tiniest distance between our lips. ‘As much as I’m enjoying catching up, I’m getting impatient,’ Jimin says, grinding up against me, the hardening bulge in his tight jeans brushing against my stomach, and I let out a tiny whimper. ‘You like the feel of that, princess? I’m so hard, just for you,’ he whispers against my ear, grinding up against me again. I try to palm him through his jeans, and he slaps my hand away instantly, a dark glint appearing in his eyes.

‘Off,’ he instructs, and I climb off him, watching as he sits up, moving to the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly on the floor. He pats his lap and I already know what’s coming. ‘Why, daddy? Haven’t I been a good girl?’ I ask, pouting at him with big eyes, and he lets out a harsh laugh, repeating the action again. I reluctantly bend over his lap, my ass up in the air, as he chuckles. ‘Good girl? You think you’ve been a good girl?’ he asks, and I nod. His hand lands on my ass without any warning, the slap hard and stinging, and I supress the yelp that nearly leaves my mouth, knowing it’ll only get me more. ‘That is for not replying to any of my texts or calls,’ he spits out before his hand lands another slap on my ass, even harder this time. ‘That is for avoiding me around campus and at parties.’ Another slap, painfully harsh, bringing tears to my eyes, slick beginning to pool in my black lace pants. ‘That is for flirting with all my friends at said parties, where you knew I could see you.’ Another slap, harsher again, causing me to lurch forward on his lap. ‘That is for giving Jungkook, Namjoon and Yoongi your number.’ ‘Namjoon already had my number!’ I say indignantly, and he slaps my ass harder than any of the previous slaps, causing the tears to spill over, my cheeks stinging and red. I’ll probably have bruises the shape of his hand tomorrow. ‘You never know when to keep your mouth shut, princess,’ he says, his hand landing against my ass again, a loud clap resounding against the room, and I can feel heat rushing to my core. ‘And that one is for how you’ve gotten even sexier over the past two years,’ he says before pulling me up off his lap and pushing me back down onto the bed.

He hovers over me again, pressing his lips against where the tears spilled over onto my face. ‘You are a good girl for me, princess. You always take your punishments so well. I just missed leaving bruises on this perfect ass,’ he murmurs against my face, his kind words making my heart warm. ‘Thank you, daddy,’ I whisper in reply, feeling him tense against me. ‘Such a good girl. My princess deserves a reward, right? You deserve a reward, don’t you, baby girl?’ he asks, and I nod, my bottom lip between my teeth. He ducks his head suddenly, his lips appearing at my jaw, slowly travelling down my neck to my collarbones, leaving blooming bruises in his wake, wanting to mark me as his. When he reaches the black lace of my bra, he lets out a deep breath. ‘You look so sexy in this,’ he says, looking up at me through his dirty blond locks. ‘Don’t rip it off, please, daddy, it was expensive,’ I say gently, and he chuckles. ‘I’ll buy you a new one, princess,’ he says, and I pout at him, not wanting it to go to waste after only wearing it once. ‘Fine,’ he huffs in mock annoyance, his hands snaking under my torso to unclip the clasp of my bra expertly. He pulls it off me, throwing it over his shoulder, and I shiver at the cold air hitting my newly exposed breasts, my nipples already hardening. Jimin exhales deeply, his breath hitting my chest, and I whimper at the feeling, watching him grin before ducking his head to wrap his lips around one nipple. His hand tugs and toys with the other nipple whilst his mouth pulls and sucks on the first, the sensations making me whine. I wrap my hands into his hair as he moves his mouth the other nipple, doing the same, making me numb. He moves further down my body, his lips pressing kisses down my stomach until he reaches the hem of my pants. With a roll of his eyes, he pulls my pants swiftly down my legs rather than ripping them off me like he used to, discarding them on the floor too, leaving me completely naked beneath him. ‘So fucking beautiful,’ he whispers, spreading my legs slowly.

‘God, I forgot how wet you get. Has anyone else managed to get you this wet, princess?’ he asks, and the question embarrasses me. The truth is that no one has. No one has ever pleased me the way Jimin used to. He grew to know my body well, knowing exactly what got me going and what I liked. It’s slightly humiliating how quickly Jimin can get me to my climax. ‘I asked you a question, princess. Has anyone else gotten you this wet?’ he asks, teeth gritted, fingers pressing into my waist. Jimin is all about validation, I’ve learned to realise. Praising him makes him feel fantastic, and when he feels fantastic, he makes me feel fantastic. ‘No, daddy, only you,’ I reply, a grin splitting his face before he ducks between my legs. He blows hot air out over my core, and I let out a small whimper. ‘Please, daddy,’ I say, unable to stop the words slipping out of my mouth, and ready myself for a reprimanding. ‘So needy, princess,’ he chuckles, surprising me by fulfilling my wishes, licking a stripe across my slit. ‘Tastes so good, princess,’ he praises as I let out a small moan, my feet curling up against the soft sheets. He licks at my core slowly, tongue lapping up my slit languorously, dipping his muscle in between my folds every few seconds, the process sending mind-numbing shocks through me. Without warning, he attaches his lips to my clit, sucking and tugging on the bundle of nerves, and I throw my head back onto the pillow, my back arching up. ‘Stay still, princess,’ he warns me, the vibration of his words against my heat having me shivering as one arm comes up to hold my hips down against the bed. His other hand comes up to between my legs and he slowly pushes one finger into my core, working his way in. ‘So tight, baby girl, am I not turning you on enough?’ he asks, and I know this question’s rhetorical, moaning out as he plunges another finger in, trying to open me up a little more. ‘I’m not gonna get my cock in at this rate, princess,’ he says, still with his lips wrapped around my clit, his two fingers slowly pumping in and out of me.

He gradually increases his pace, adding another finger in after a few moments, his mouth still working wonders at my clit. After a while, I can feel my orgasm building up, the moans falling more frequently from my mouth, Jimin only increasing his pace more and more, until his fingers pump in and out furiously fast, his tongue licking up and down my slit before pulling on my clit with his lips. My hands, threaded into his soft locks, pull him closer and closer to my core, and I can feel myself fast approaching the edge. He curls his fingers inside me, hitting that a particular spot, and I let out a loud whine. ‘Shit, Jimin, right there,’ I moan, and he stops his movements. I look down at him, already feeling my orgasm diminishing, and he stares back harshly. ‘What did you call me, princess?’ he asks sternly, and I pout. ‘Sorry, daddy, I forgot. It just felt so good,’ I reply, and a tender smile slips onto his face. ‘It’s okay, baby girl, you can say my name if you want,’ he allows before he goes back to his previous ministrations, and I feel myself tumbling towards the edge. ‘Come on, princess, you’re so close,’ he whispers, and I finally reach my orgasm when he curls his fingers and pulls on my clit at the exact same moment. ‘Fuck, Jimin!’ I cry out, back arching off the bed as my release washes over me.

Once I’ve come down from my high, Jimin licks up my release before he climbs off me, standing up beside the bed. He holds out his fingers to me, and I open my mouth, tasting myself on his digits, licking them clean. He slips off his socks and shoes as I take deep breaths, recovering, and he watches me fondly. Shakily, I push myself up, kneeling at the edge of the bed to help him undress. He shrugs off his jacket and then pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it onto the floor as I unbutton his jeans, tugging them down his legs, leaving him in a pair of plain black boxers, his bulge straining against the material. He watches as I run my hands over his chest, the muscles more prominent than they used to be, his skin more tanned now too. I bring my lips up to his collarbone, kissing and sucking to leave a mark of my own, threading my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Princess, as much as I’m enjoying this, I really need you,’ he says breathlessly, obviously trying not to let out any noises, and I pull away from his skin. ‘Okay, daddy,’ I reply, pulling his boxers down just enough to let his hard length spring up against his stomach. He’s longer than I remember, thicker too, and his head is painfully swollen, the tip leaking precum. My mouth waters at the sight. I press a kiss to his tip, my tongue sliding out between my lips to lick up his precum, and he lets out an audible breath. I move back, spitting on my hands and running them up and down his length slowly, Jimin’s hands coming to gather up my hair and hold it back. I place my tongue at the base, licking up to his tip against the vein on the underside of his cock, feeling him tense as I do so. I take his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him, my hands rubbing him slowly. I look up at him through my lashes as I take him further into my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat, and his head falls back, a moan falling from his lips, the sound rushing straight to my core.

I build up my pace, steadily bobbing my head up and down, taking him as far in as I can, trying not to gag around him. ‘Fuck, princess, your mouth feels so good around my cock,’ he groans, saliva dripping down my chin and my eyes watering, not to mention the pain from how hard he’s tugging on my hair, but hearing the moans from him makes it all worth it. Just as I manage to adjust to him in my mouth, nearly backing down my throat, he becomes impatient. He begins thrusting into my mouth, controlling my head movements with the hand he has fisted in my hair, and all I can do is grab onto the back of his thighs as he fucks my mouth. ‘Ah, you’re such a good girl, princess. You make daddy feel so good, y/n. Taking my cock so well,’ he groans, and I moan at his words, the vibrations only making him thrust faster. The tears stream down my face, saliva now dripping all the way down my neck and chest, and I begin rubbing at my clit, already wet again. His thrusts into my mouth become messier and I know he’s nearing his edge, the moans and groans of my name becoming more and more frequent. I feel his cock twitch inside my mouth, ready for the hot cum that hits the back of my throat. ‘Shit, y/n,’ he moans, his head thrown back as he continues thrusting into me, filling my mouth with his release. Once he’s done, he pulls out of my mouth, his cum mingling with my saliva.

He looks down at me, my hair a tangled mess, my eyes streaming, spit and cum dripping down my face, fingers rubbing at my clit. I look up at him, hair pasted to his forehead with perspiration, chest heaving, lips swollen and shining. I swallow down what’s in my mouth as he collects up the liquid from my face and neck, his fingers entering my mouth. I lick them clean of all release again, still rubbing at myself, and I moan around his fingers, watching his eyes darken. ‘Already turned on, princess? You only orgasmed a few minutes ago! You always have been a greedy girl,’ he scolds, moving my pillows out of the way and sitting at the top of the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He pulls me up towards him and I think he’s going to want me to ride him, so when I try to straddle him, he shakes his head with a chuckle. He lifts me up and puts me down on his leg, my legs straddling his thigh, and he holds onto my waist. ‘You want me to ride your thigh, daddy?’ I ask gently, looking at him through my lashes, and he nods with a low groan, leaning forward to press his lips to mine. I can taste myself in his mouth, and I know it’s the same for him, our tongues and teeth clashing as his hands trail down to my ass, giving it a light slap before gripping it tightly. He flexes his thigh beneath my heat and I moan into his mouth, feeling him grin against mine before pulling away.

I begin grinding down on his strong thigh, holding on to his shoulders for support, and his mouth comes to my breasts. He begins licking and sucking on my nipples again and the feeling distracts me. It’s only after a little while that we both realised that I’ve stopped, and he flexes his thigh beneath me. ‘Jimin!’ I cry out, my head falling back as a result of the pleasure coursing through my veins, and he smirks. ‘Move, princess,’ he commands, and I slowly begin rocking down onto his bare thigh, the friction against my heat making me moan, Jimin watching me intently. ‘God, I can feel how wet you are. Gushing all over my thigh, princess. Such a dirty girl,’ Jimin breathes out, eyes on me as I grind down on his thigh. He grabs onto my waist, increasing my pace, and I moan out his name, the motion sending my mind into overdrive. ‘Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that, so beautiful,’ he groans out, licking his lips. Jimin’s eyes don’t leave me for a second and I know exactly what’s running through his mind; smugness and desire at the sight of me getting myself off on his thigh. ‘Fuck, Jimin, you feel so good, daddy,’ I whimper, looking down at his thigh to see it coated with my slick. ‘Be a good girl, y/n, work hard on daddy’s thigh, and I might just fuck you senseless afterwards,’ he whispers, and I let out a moan at his dirty words, a reminder of how vast and vibrant his vocabulary used to be. His length is already hard again, precum leaking from the tip, and I swipe a finger to collect it all up. The action catches him off-guard and he moans out, his head falling back and his thigh flexing, causing me to moan out his name. ‘Come on, princess, I know you’re near,’ Jimin urges, flexing and bucking up his thigh, the moans falling from my lips in rapid succession as I hurtle towards my climax. My orgasm finally washes over me and my back arches before I fall forward, my head buried in his neck, his scent of an expensive aftershave that I recognise from two years ago, his fresh soap and, again, something that just belongs to him, and him only, just something Jimin, floods my senses. He continues rocking me on his thigh until I’ve come down from my high.

‘I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than the sight of you cumming on my thigh, princess. I wish I could imprint it in my mind,’ Jimin breathes out, lifting me off his thigh and laying me down on the bed, hovering over me. ‘Do you still keep your condoms in the same place?’ he asks, eyes flitting over to my bedside drawers, and I smile up at him. ‘I’m on the pill,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’ve always been on the pill. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take precautions. I don’t want you pregnant,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yes, I keep them in the same place,’ I sigh, and he grins, reaching over to the drawer and pulling one out. He hands it to me, shutting the drawer as I rip it open, sliding the rubber onto his length gently, hearing him hiss at the feeling. ‘Ready?’ he asks as I wrap my legs around his waist, and I nod, ‘Yes, daddy.’ He plunges into me, filling me up to the hilt, and my head drops back on to the pillow, Jimin’s head falling onto my shoulder. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight, princess, why don’t you ever loosen up? I won’t be able to last long,’ he groans, and I know it’s a lie, knowing Jimin will keep going for as long as it takes me to cum before he does, his stamina something inhuman. ‘Can I move?’ he asks. ‘Please, daddy,’ I moan, and he pulls all the way out, leaving me empty, before he slams all the way back in, hips snapping up against mine. ‘Fuck, daddy, you feel so good,’ I moan out, and he groans, setting a steady pace, his hips rocking up to meet mine. ‘Deeper, Jimin, harder,’ I moan and, after a few more thrusts, he gets impatient and unhooks one of my legs from around his waist, moving it to stretch up over his shoulder instead, slamming into me harder. ‘Daddy, oh, god, yes!’ I scream as he goes deeper than I thought possible, leaving me feeling completely and utterly full. He slams into me again and again, hitting the spongy spot deep inside me repeatedly, having me screaming. ‘Yes, fuck, Jimin, feels so good!’ I cry out as he begins rubbing at my clit. ‘That’s it, princess, scream my name. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good,’ he urges, groaning and grunting as he thrusts into me at a fast pace, his thumb rubbing furiously at my clit. ‘Jimin, fuck!’ I scream out, my orgasm washing over me without a single ounce of warning from my body, having me quivering and convulsing under him. ‘Ah, fuck, princess, I’m gonna cum, fuck!’ Jimin moans, his thrusts slowing completely as he cums into the condom, his fingers still working on my clit. ‘Stop, Jimin,’ I say, slapping his hand away when the overstimulation kicks in.

Obligingly, Jimin pulls out of me, standing up and pulling off his condom, throwing it into the bin in the corner of my room. I slowly rise up from the bed, shakily walking over to my bathroom to go for a wee (no UTIs here, thank you very much), and when I go back into my room, Jimin’s redressing, beginning to pull his jeans on. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, and he looks at me dumbfounded. ‘Um, I’m getting dressed,’ he says, his tone indicating how obvious it is. ‘I know that, I mean why,’ I say impatiently. ‘So I don’t show up to the frat house naked,’ he says in the same tone, and I roll my eyes. ‘Stay the night. It’s late, why would you go back home now?’ I ask, and he grins at me. ‘You sure, princess?’ he asks, and I nod exasperatedly. ‘Don’t make me regret offering,’ I say, picking up his t-shirt from the floor and pulling it on before grabbing a clean pair of pants from my wardrobe, pulling those on to. When I turn to face Jimin again, he’s lying in the bed, just in his boxers, watching me with a small smile. ‘You look so good in that shirt,’ he compliments as I climb into the bed beside him, taking a sip from the bottle of water sat on my windowsill. ‘How do you want me?’ I ask, and he smirks at me. ‘Another round already, princess?’ he asks, and I sigh tiredly. ‘You know what I mean,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘I wanna spoon you,’ he says shamelessly, and I turn away from him, lying down. He lies down beside me, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him so my back presses against his chest, my head tucked beneath his chin. ‘Goodnight, princess,’ he says tiredly. ‘Goodnight, Jimin,’ I reply, already drifting off to sleep, feeling so safe and comfortable in his arms.

[doseofheroes]

Stalling

Summary: When Bucky is injured in the woods, he comes across a small cabin.

Words: 4072 (wtf)

Pair: bucky x reader

Warnings: violence, swearing

A/n: it is literally my first time writing anything besides a paper for school so sorry for how terrible it is but I had the idea and wanted to try! Also learnt the hard way about formatting so hopefully its somewhat coherent. Also also I wrote it in a night on my phone... Idk if literally anyone will read this but im kinda happy with how it turned out so enjoy!

When you moved out to the middle of nowhere a couple of months ago you knew you were just stalling. After graduating university four quick years later you were no more sure of what you wanted to do now then when you started. So yes, time off to be alone and think for yourself was a stall tactic, but doesn’t mean it was the wrong move right?

The first couple of weeks were peaceful. You were in a small cabin you rented off airbnb located somewhere on the outer edge of the ** forest. Snow fell as slowly creating a fresh layer as you sat inside cozied up with a blanket and some tea reading by the fire. A clichè but still nice.

You made yourself some pasta for dinner and listened to some old Amy Whinehouse tunes. Cleaning up the dishes you decided to call it an early night and went to bed. Little did you know what or rather who would show up at your door that night.

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Bucky and Natasha had set out on mission to the depths of the ** forest where a known hydra base was located. Their job was to only collect intel for now so they could make a proper plan and bring back the group for execution. The base had turned out to be much larger than they had anticipated counting over 250 hydra agents working on the base so far.

“How the hell are we just getting wind of this now?” Bucky stared at the base in confusion.

“Somethings not right. We should’ve heard about this one when we took out the others.” Nat said sharing a concerned look with Bucky.

“We shouldn’t go any further until we get the others” Nat said as she started to pack up.

“We need to figure out what the deal is here” Bucky started “we can’t leave yet.”

“Bucky, there are 250 of them and 2 of us. I know we’re a little above average but thats a bit overkill. No pun intended.”

Bucky smirked at her attempt at humour but there was no way he was leaving just yet. He felt something was off and he wanted to know what. “I’ll do a quick look around. In and out. No contact”

“Bucky, no. Dont be stupid. I get it, but lets not do something we’ll regret. I’m calling this in, i’ll let them know were heading back.”

Bucky sits silently for a second and notices she’s looking for his agreement. He nods.

As Nat trails back to get a signal Bucky turns back to look at the base. “What are you up to...” he says to himself as he looks around. Thats when he sees it. The ever so familiar blue liquid. Fuck he thinks to himself. Theyre trying again...more super soldiers...more....me. His mind flashes back to his hydra days and all the stuff they made him do. This can’t happen.

Against all better judgement he looks back at Nat who is still facing away and starts to descend down the rocks towards the base. He just needs to get the suitcase filled with the serum and get out.

Reaching the outer gates he looks around to make his plan. Thats when all hell brakes loose. A guard patrolling the fence line spots him and starts to yell. Bucky runs over to take him out before anyone notices but it’s too late. Next thing he knows hes taking on an army of hydra agents, shots flying. Nat hears the commotion and turns around. “I don’t believe this.” She says into her comms. She’s about to start the descent when she realizes its too late. Bucky’s down. They’ve got him. This just became a rescue mission.

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Bucky slowly comes to and tries to rub his face but soon realizes he is restrained. Taking in his surroundings he tries not to let panic set in as he looks around the room of the hydra base. Everyone is silently staring at him now that he’s awake. One of the men mutters something to a nurse and she leaves the room. The door bursts open a minute later and in comes a tall thin man with a lab coat. “Hello Mr Barnes. This is a pleasant surprise.” Bucky says nothing but gives the man a blank stare. “I see, the strong but silent type. Well your timing is opportune for us Mr Barnes. you see, we are finally creating our own little army of, well, you to be blunt, and I think you can give me the answers to the questions that remain.” Bucky stays silent not letting his panic show. The doctor doesn’t say much more telling the nurses to start the work up. They start collecting blood samples.

Bucky knows he doesn’t have long before this gets real bad so he starts to form his escape plan in his head. The restraints do not feel like they will be too difficult to break out of, its the building he is unsure of, having been unconscious when they brought him in. I guess we’re gonna wing it he thinks to himself.

Once the nurses clear and all the guards leave except the two at the door, Bucky knows its time. He breaks out of the restraints easily, as he suspected. He knocks on the door and the two guards turn around, eyes widening with realization. They start yelling as he bursts through the door knocking them both out.

As he makes his way through the building things are getting worse and worse. Thats when he sees the doctor, face not of fear, but perhaps interest? Bucky keeps making his way out when he sees a guy blocking the door. He takes a good look at him and he realizes. Shit. This is no regular soldier.

He starts swinging and while he is holding his own, he is still taking quite the beating. I just have to get out he thinks. The soldier now has a rifle. great. Using his arm to deflect the shots he runs full force to take him down but takes a hit in his side. Bucky grunts as the shot stings but the soldier pulls out a knife and Bucky rolls in a near miss.

Ducking and dodging Bucky reminds himself he’s not here to fight, he just needs to get out. He turns and makes a run for it, and is almost home free when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and is knocked down. He turns his head to see the knife sticking out of his back. Pulling it out slowly Bucky cringes at the pain but the soldier is already walking back to him.

A knife fight ensues as Bucky desperately tries to stave him off. A realization comes to Bucky. I gotta take the hit to leave. Bucky slows his movements and he feels the knife go straight into his chest. Screaming in pain bucky pulls out the knife almost regretting that, but now, with both knives in his hand he is able to make a run for it throwing the final two knives hitting the soldier twice as he makes his escape.

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Bucky is out of breath and losing feeling as his body tries to recover from the two stab wounds and the shot. He needs to find a safe place to get the bullet out.

After wandering for a few miles Bucky smells smoke. That’s when he sees it. A house...out here? He checks the perimeter for any signs of hyrda or that someone is living there. There is a car in the driveway but no signs point to hydra. He takes the risk and starts to bang on the door.

What the fuck? You think to yourself as you slowly wake up to a loud noise. Fear sets in when you realize someone is banging on your door. You sit in bed waiting for a few minutes hoping they will go away. When the knocking doesn’t subside you decide to go down and check out who it is. God this is stupid, you’ve seen horror movies y/n!!

You look through the doors peephole and thats when you see him. Its dark out so you can’t make out much but you can tell he is handsome. Really y/n? A stranger is knocking on your door in the middle of nowhere at 2 am and you think ‘ooh he’s handsome’?! You mentally scold yourself. Thats when you notice he is clutching his chest.

“Please. I know you’re there. I can hear you. I just need some help and I will leave. I mean you no harm” please for the love of god let me in Bucky thinks to himself.

You are terrified but he looks really hurt. This is a bad idea...you think to yourself but unlock the door anyway.

Bucky perks up at the noise and the door opens slowly. Buckys eyes look up to you and he stares for a second. “Can I come in, please?” He says softly.

“Oh yes sorry!” You say as you let him in, adrenaline rushing. He walks inside slowly looking around before heading to the kitchen. You go to turn on the lights and flick them on before he has time to yell “Dont!” But its too late. You gasp as you take in his injuries and blood soaked clothes.

You look up to his face. “Please, turn them off” he says firmly but quietly. You do as he says. He has the most beautiful blue eyes you think before being kicked back to reality.

“Are you- are you o-okay?” You ask voice shaky. He stays silent. “Well you’re obviously not okay...but do you need...how can I help you? Should I call the police? You should really-“

“Im fine, no need to call anyone” he says cutting you off. “Do you have a towel or something?” You sit there frozen for a few seconds before you spring into action. You disappear upstairs for a few minutes. Bucky takes a deep breath after you leave trying to reorganize his thoughts. The moment he saw your face he forgot, even just for a moment, why he was there in the first place. You had such a calming presence even though you were clearly panicked. You came back arms full with anything you thought could be remotely useful. First aid kit, towels, and a sewing kit you didn’t know you had until now among other things. As you head back to the kitchen you almost drop everything as the man stands shirtless in front of you. You regain composure placing everything on the counter pretending not to see the man smirk.

“I’m going to need you to take the bullet out.” He deadpans. “What?!” You choke out almost laughing at the thought. “I can’t reach it with my other injuries....” he trails off seeing the panicked look on your face “you know what don’t worry about it I think I can manage” A wave of relief floods over you at his words but as he goes to sit you see him wince and you know he was lying for your benefit. Be strong y/n you can do this, you are a strong independent woman “ I can do it. I can take it out. You’re clearly not okay.” Bucky is about to protest but stops when he feels another wave of pain. He nods at you and sterilizes the tweezers before handing them to you. You grab them reluctantly but give him a small smile. He doesn’t know why but that small action gives him enough comfort he thinks he might just be ok. “Okay here goes nothing” you say as he exhale deeply and stick the tweezers in. Bucky grips the counter top and groans. “Im so sorry!” You quickly retreat from your real life game of operation. “No I’m fine keep going” he says and gives you a reassuring smile. “So..” you try to think of some conversation to keep his mind elsewhere. “Do you like cats?” Oh my god bitch are you for real, you are gonna die alone. You clear your throat awkwardly, too late to back out of this conversation. He cracks a smile at your clear embarrassment but answers your question. “Um Ive never had one but I dont mind them I guess. More of a dog person I think” she nods. “Are you...a cat person?” Yikes this is awkward Bucky thinks to himself. But he kind of likes awkward with you. “ Im in animal person in general. Love them all.” You say half focused on the conversation half focused on his side. You try not to let your eyes wander to his abs...and that chest.. ugh is this a man or a god and thats when you realized you had stopped moving and he was staring at you....staring at him. Your eyes quickly dart away and your face heats up at being so blatantly caught enjoying the view. He chuckles and you quickly change the subject. “So care to explain any of this or are you just going to bleed all over my kitchen?” You say almost defensively trying to hide your embarrassment. Bucky stiffens a little. “Are you going to find the bullet or just stare at me all night?” He says half joking, avoiding the question. “I think” you say before grabbing onto the bullet finally and pulling it out quickly. Bucky winces. “that you are avoiding the question” you finish. “You know me so well already!” He states pouring some alcohol over the wound, wincing again. “Here. Stay still.” You say ready to stitch it up. “You’ve really accepted the nurse role” he says smirking “I appreciate it.” He finished more seriously. You smile back. God he loved that smile. Get yourself together barnes, it’s just a pretty girl. “Wait you’re not actually a nurse are you?” He asks suspiciously.You laugh at the accusation. “No. I’m nothing.” Wow way to spill all you life problems in one depressing sentence y/n!! Ughhh why can’t I talk to men. Well when they look this good...”What do you mean?” He asks ignoring the pain of your amateur stitches. Definitely not a nurse...“I just meant I haven’t decided what I am going to do, or be yet...thats all” you give him a weak smile and he nods in understanding. “You want me to do the others?” You point to his stab wounds. casual. “Uh sure, if you dont mind. Thanks” You nod again and begin working. You sit in silence for a bit before something occurs to Bucky. He didn’t kill that solider...they’ll be looking for him...and he may have led them right here to you. You feel Bucky tense and he begins to look around. “Whats wrong?” You ask suddenly nervous again. Wait when did you stop being nervous? “Nothing” he said quickly. “Well sit still im almost done” you say and he nods. You finish the last stitch and sit up.

“There all done! I cannot believe I just did that” You begin to smile but it quickly fades as Bucky immediately stands up and puts his shirt back on. A confused look grows on your face which quickly turns to fear as Bucky starts pulling out your kitchen knives and shoving them in his belt. He grabs your hand and starts to drag you upstairs “come with me”. You follow.

Once upstairs he looks around before opening the closet door. “Uhhh what are you doing” you say ignoring the feeling you get when he grabs your hips and moves you into the closet. “They must have followed me. Stay in here and don’t make a noise. Dont leave until I come get you.” You stare at him waiting for your brain to catch up. “Do you understand? Not a word.” You nod slowly. “You will be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you I promise.” He turns to leave then pauses. “Im Bucky by the way.” “Y/n” you reply weakly. With that he smiles then closes the door and you hear his footsteps walk back downstairs. You sit in silence the only noise being your heavy breaths for a few minutes before you hear glass smash. Bucky takes in his surroundings, five agents, all heavily armed but no super solider. That can’t be good. He takes them down one by one with ease mentally apologizing for everything he’s breaking in your home. Once the last agent is down he steps outside and listens for more. He can hear them every so slightly which means they can’t be more than a mile away. He needs to get you out of there, you’re sitting ducks.

He runs back inside and grabs your car keys before heading upstairs to retrieve you. He swings open the closet door and you let out a scream and start kicking. “Hey hey its me!” You look up and realize your safe. “Sorry...wh-what happened?” “We need to leave. I got your keys, leave everything here, stay behind me” You get up slowly and nod sticking closely behind him. He walks slowly and quietly down the stairs then pauses. Oh fu- Buckys thoughts get cut off as he ducks to avoid the super soldiers hand swinging at his head. Ho. Ly. Shit. You think watching Bucky expertly fight what looks like a man but appears to have the strength of an elephant. You hide behind a wall peering around to watch when it hits you. Super strong men...bullets...bucky...im in an airbnb with the winter soldier. The realization hits you like a truck and you turn around stunned. You catch your breath and begin to watch again. Fear settles in all over when you see the soldier choking the life out of Bucky. Without thinking you grab a knife from the floor run over and stab him in the back. The soldier loosens his grip just enough for Bucky to break free and snaps the guys neck before he has a chance to grab you. “Thanks...” he huffs out holding his neck “we have to move” He grabs your arm and takes you out to the car. You both get inside and Bucky just starts driving.

==============================

The drive is mostly silence as you try and process what is happening and Bucky tries to figure out what to say. “You don’t have a phone on you do you?” He asks. “No..uh you told me not to grab anything” “Right” More silence. I have to say something Bucky decides. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I wasn’t thinking straight and I-“ “You’re the winter soldier aren’t you?” You cut him off. Oh god. Bucky thought this couldn’t get worse, she called me the winter soldier, shes afraid. “I am- or was” He doesn’t know how else to say it without going off. You sit there for a minute in silence. “Ok” is all you say. Bucky looks at you in surprise. “Ok?” “Yeah, ok” you repeat. With that you shift in your seat and nod off. Ok...Bucky repeats this over and over in his head as he drives back to the compound.

==============================

“So..they’re going to be angry with me...just as a heads up.” Bucky says to you as you arrive at the compound. “What? Aren’t you the one who is injured and missing?” “Well, yes, but it’s my fault. I was reckless and I put everyone in danger. Including you. Im sorry.” Bucky suddenly felt even more guilty in remembering that you were now dragged into this too. “It’s okay, honestly, I’m just glad your okay” you said with a smile. It was true. Yes, you were scared shitless at the time but you’re not going to pretend you weren’t psyched to have met Bucky and soon the avengers! Plus..you were going stir crazy in that cabin... oh the cabin...there goes my deposit. Bucky smiled back and got out of the car. You followed him all the way through the front doors to the elevator and down the hall admiring the building around you. This is a Stark building all right...

Bucky slowed and you could hear the avengers in on the other side of the door discussing. He steps inside and stops. “Hey guys” they all whip their heads around to stare at Bucky. Smooth. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU IDIOT!” You hear a female voice. They all proceed to start yelling at him over one another. “Guys....guys...GUYS” Bucky yells finally prompting them to stop. He steps aside and you figure thats your cue so you enter the room. “Hello” you say awkwardly waving to everyone. They all stare at you then back at him. “Who is this?” Tony friggen stark asks Bucky. “When I escaped i was injured and I came across her house. She stitched me up but they followed me so we took her car and well... here we are!” “Buck, we went in to get you and you weren’t there. What happened?” Oh my goddddd captain america!!!! Neutral face y/n, neutral face, be cool. “I broke out about 30 minutes after I was...taken in... but they had a super soldier of their own. Barely got out of there with a bullet hole and two stab wounds.” Bucky says nonchalantly. Your eyes widen at the implications of his story. For some reason your brain forgot something happened before he showed up at your door. Dude was shot and stabbed twice! What the fuck! “And you coincidentally live up in a cabin in the woods alone near a hydra base?” Tony says to you receiving a glare from Bucky. “Wha- hydra base?- no, I rented that cabin, its an airbnb, I was just staying there for a few months” you say, looking around for confirmation that they believe you. They look at each other skeptically. “She stabbed the super soldier to save me- do I really have to say this?” Bucky tries to defend you. “Hey, look, I should just go home, I don’t mean to cause any trouble” you say suddenly feeling how tired you were. “I’m sorry, but they might have seen you, I can’t let you go home until this is cleared up.” Bucky says sympathetically. Your eyes widen at this statement. You look around at the other faces and your fears are confirmed. “He’s right. We need to figure out what their plan is...and no offence..but who you are.” Steve says earning another glare from bucky. You think about this for a moment. I guess I would be skeptical too... plus staying here wouldn’t be so bad...“Alright. Fair enough.” You say shrugging. Buckys face looks surprised but then relieved. In fact they all look relieved.“Well all right sergeant, show the lady to her room” Tony says grinning at Bucky. With that you follow Bucky through the building.

==============================

When you and Bucky finally reach your new room you can tell he wants to say something. “Im so so-“ “thanks f-“ You both speak at the same time. “You first” you say, giggling.Buckys heart clenches at the sound. ”Look, im just really sorry about all of this, I don’t know how to make it up to you.” You can see the guilt on his face. You want to wipe it away with your hands..mouth... god y/n, you sad little daydreamer. “Really truly, its okay. If it were to be anyone I’m glad its me, I was literally in the middle of doing nothing” you say laughing. “But I know how you can make it up to me” you say smiling. “How, anything” he says, face lighting up, not letting his mind go to the places her statement suggested. My first choice would be to for you to push me up against this door and make out with me buuuut... “give me a tour of this place tomorrow?” You say, the confidence of your subconscious not quite reaching your mouth. “Deal” he says nodding. His eyes linger over you for too long before he notices you stifling a yawn. “Sorry, youve had a long night, I’ll let you sleep. See you tomorrow.” “Tomorrow” you say smiling as he leaves the room. Left alone in this strange place, your thoughts swirl on only one thing, or should you say only one man.

=================================

To be continued?

Comments appreciated :)

[meddows-taylor]

Doze Off - (also on AO3)

Finals week finds the four members of Queen bunking together in Brian and Roger’s flat, and an stressed Roger climbing into Brian’s bed. Unable to fall asleep because of his racing mind, Brian lends a hand to his friend to get him to relax, and Roger tries not to think about what it actual means besides a mere physical attraction.

Pairing: Roger Taylor/Brian May

Rating: Mature

Words: 2757

This mess came to me in the midst of my own finals week, insomniac and maylor starved. MAJOR thanks to @a-belladonic-haze, clever friend and life savior for reading over this and providing two types of feedback: the teacher, editing type and the encouraging “they are so awesome but dumb and in love” type. I owe you so much !

Although he was trying to be as silent as possible, it seemed like all of his surroundings plus his body were conspiring against Roger to make the biggest mess possible - almost tripping on some discarded shoes on the kitchen floor, running into scattered furniture,  knocking books off their table. His legs were numb from sitting for hours and his headache was so strong it was on the verge of making him dizzy.

Hearing the floor creak with every step he took towards his room, Roger tried to listen carefully for any sign of life in their flat. Having Freddie and John bunk with Brian and him for finals week seemed like a good idea at the time. They could rehearse or finish a song whenever they had a minute free—or they desperately needed a break—but with only two beds, finding somewhere to sleep was an every man for himself situation: the last one up simply had to look for a spot to crash in. He peaked through his bedroom door and there, in a mess of limbs, were Freddie and John. Roger missed his bed but knew better than to nudge Deaky awake. Freddie’s soft snores indicated he was also lost in a deep slumber, and John looked so peaceful he finally resembled the 20 year old he was.

He turned around and made his way across the hall, where Brian had gone to sleep hours ago. Roger’s body still seemed to be in its peak clumsiest state, but he tried his best to open the door carefully, relishing in how the atmosphere in his friend’s room was always so different from anywhere else - calm, secluded and safe.

When he finally reached the bed he threw caution out the window and just flopped next to Brian. He was too exhausted to keep being careful, and the pale light peeking through the blinds threatened the imminent sunrise.

Still, Brian didn’t move. Roger figured burying his nose even deeper than usual in a book had also taken a toll on him. He could hear his soft breathing; for a moment Roger let it wash over him, calming his anxiety about exams. He tried to lull himself to sleep with it, like he did when Brian hummed mindlessly while diagramming star clusters, while Roger power-napped between flashcard sets on their couch. But soon he found that while he was comfortable and much calmer than before, luxuriating in the change from chain-smoking in their living room and trying to memorize protein interactions, sleep simply refused to come.

3.00 am

If he fell asleep right this second, it would mean four hours of sleep.

3.17

Three hours, forty-three minutes.

3.18

His mind seemed determined to keep spinning. Diagrams of cell evolution, metabolic reactions, quarters over semi notes on their new song, lyrics scratched out and re written, formulas mixing up with the thump of John’s bass, dates of exams overlapping with pub gigs—no matter how tight he shut his eyes or how he shifted under the covers, his thoughts wouldn’t settle, louder than any crowd they’d ever played for or song they’d performed..

He turned again, his back to Brian’s peaceful, sleeping frame…

“Lucky bastard”, Roger muttered.

The heat of the room was suffocating. Roger pulled the blankets down with a huff, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Brian’s room was always tidy and welcoming, but he usually felt like a kid in a fancy store, the imminent risk of touching something valuable and fragile and breaking it hovering over him. The little glow-in-the-dark stars that he and Freddie had stuck on there as a joke winked down at him.

3.40

Barely over 3 bloody hours. He was practically falling asleep on top of his notes when he called it quits, and now he felt like he might vibrate out of his own skin.  He just needed to sleep. They’d planned to get up at 7, for an hour of band practice before class, but at this rate, he’d sleep right through his alarm.  Probably he’d be sleepwalking around work this afternoon, if he couldn’t sneak a nap in one of the dressing rooms and risk his boss scolding him.

4.05

He just needed to fall asleep—

“Are you going to keep tossing around like that?”

Roger startled at Brian’s low voice, rough with sleep and irritation. He was taken aback by the closeness of it, and by the fact that his friend was awake, apparently also lying on his back staring at the ceiling, finally disturbed by the wreckage Roger was causing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. And then, “I just can’t sleep.” He glanced at the clock sitting on the dresser across Brian’s bed. “4.06, that means a bit less than three hours.”

“You know you’re not gonna sleep if you keep counting like that.”

Roger remembered Brian also had to get up at 7 and felt a pang of guilt for crashing in his bed instead of on the couch, even if that meant waking up so tense he could barely sit straight behind his drum kit.

“Just relax. I dunno, what do you usually think about when you can’t sleep?” Brian said, the usual gentleness back to his voice.

Roger really didn’t want to get into what he thought of when sleepless night plagued him. Not here, not in his mate’s bed.

Of course, telling yourself that you shouldn’t think about something always resulted in thinking of nothing but that. So there he was. Counting down how many hours, minutes of sleep he’d get and unable to stop thinking about jerking off. And that was out of the question. He supposed he could get up and walk all the way to their bathroom down the hall, but whereas his mind was racing faster by the second, his body was so tired he couldn’t get his feet to move. Even if he’d been alone, he was so burnt out that he couldn’t lift his hands a millimeter.

“You’re still tense.” Brian sighed in frustration next to him. “Is something bothering you?”

Other than his sudden and completely inappropriate hard-on?. “Just a bit worried about my exam, that’s all.” He was aiming for a whisper, but instead he ended up with something closer to a groan. A flush crept up his neck.

“Relax, you’ve been studying a surprising amount for your standards.” Brian chuckled, and boy, that didn’t help - how Brian’s voice resonated in the quiet room and how the bed moved because of his laugh. It all went straight to his groin, and Roger squirmed uncomfortably next to him. “Seriously, not sleeping is not gonna do you any favors.” At least Brian had attributed his fidgeting to pre exam nerves.

“If I fail, then I’ll have an excuse to drop out and just focus on playing music all the time,” Roger half-joked. “Or I’ll just quit the band too and move back into my mum’s basement. ” He bit his lip, regretting how vulnerable he sounded as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Hey. Don’t talk like that.” Brian scooted over so that his back was against the wall and he lay on his side, facing Roger. “You are an amazing drummer and a…pretty decent biology student. I can certainly see you as a biologist more than a dentist.” He laughed.

Oh, God. Roger had heard Brian laugh a thousand times before, sometimes even this close to him, pilled in the back of a car or leaning over his shoulder to peek at a song he was writing. But in the dark of that room, surrounded by heavy silence as they were, Brian’s earnest, throaty chuckle was turning Roger’s semi into more serious business.

“You just need to relax,” Brian said, lightly tapping his hand over Roger’s stomach. When he moved to pull back, Roger’s hand grasped his wrist, almost without his permission. He didn’t know why—all he knew was that he had instantly felt better when he felt his friend’s warm touch. He told himself he needed to let go now, but he couldn’t. Through his shirt he could feel Brain’s fingers, the same that worked tirelessly over his guitar and that were always getting paper cuts from the heavy books that he carried around. He just knew he wasn’t ready to let go. So he moved his own hand above Brian’s, feeling Brian’s fingers press to the middle of his ribcage.

The only thing breaking the silence was the pounding of Roger’s pulse in his ears.  He closed his eyes to keep from looking at the damned clock across him. Brian’s words kept repeating over his head, filling the space recently taken by annotations and chords.

“Just relax.”

It was probably close to 5 anyways.

“Just relax.”

He could always take a nap after lunch before his shift at the market.

“Just relax.”

Brian was wrong, he would make an awful biologist.

“Just relax.”-

And you need to let go, you idiot, he told himself. But Brian hadn’t moved his hand either. And without realizing how, but not surprised by it either, Roger found himself slighting pushing Brian’s hand down, guiding it with his own.

He shivered slightly when Brian’s fingers brushed over his navel. They stopped right at the hem of his worn-out shirt. Only then did he hear Brian’s voice.

“Rog..”

“Shh. You said it yourself, I just need to relax.” Now Roger did surprise himself. It was one thing to have his friend’s hand travel right above his hip bone; he could write it off as a somnolent action. This was another thing. Another completely different thing.

He pushed Brian’s hand further down, running it over the elastic of his boxers. He felt Brian’s fingers moving on their own underneath his, slightly digging at his flesh and grazing the trail of hair. Everywhere those long fingers touched him felt like he was burning up. Roger was suddenly and embarrassingly aware of just how hard he was. He lifted his hand from Brian’s, tracing an almost phantom touch all the way up his elbow. He could feel goosebumps emerging on Brian’s arms—made him catch his breath and stir involuntarily in his underwear, Brian’s hand going painfully still.

He suddenly felt as awake as he’d ever been, alert and almost tingling with it throughout every part of his body. While Brian’s fingers just pushed deeper into his lower belly, tracing the indentations his tight jeans had left from side to side, a small part of Roger’s mind scrambled to come up with excuses for the next morning: “it’s just a common thing, just a friend helping another friend, it doesn’t mean anything, every stressed guy went through this and they could laugh it off”, “probably some band bonding, same stuff every group deals with”— he was thinking up justifications because he knew there was no way he could stop this from happening, or that he would ever want to. The running loop of justifications helped him to ignore the idea that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t about relaxing and getting some rest. Maybe this was about something else all together.

Suddenly, every thought other than pure, unadulterated need flew from Roger’s mind. Brian had removed his fingers from where they were tugging at his elastic band, but the blonde didn’t have time to mourn their absence, because one second later Brian was tracing the outline of his shamelessly hard dick over his briefs. Roger heard his own gasp as if it was uttered by someone else, and when he involuntarily bucked his hips up to increase the friction that wasn’t light but definitely not direct enough, he could have swore he felt Brian growl next to him.

Roger squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Brian cupped him, hollowing his palm to rub him just a bit faster. Little dots of color appeared in the blackness before his eyes; he knew he had lost control completely over his panting breathing and the twitches his cock made from underneath Brian’s hand. When he took his thumb and swiftly rubbed over the tip, Roger’s eyes flung open and he let out a long, incomprehensible groan, followed by a single “fuck…” as he caught sight of Brian beside him.

Some part of Roger was sure this was going to break the spell, that the delicious feeling he was experiencing was detached from the person causing it—and that seeing one of his closest friends getting him off was going to ruin everything. But the moment Roger’s eyes met Brian’s, the moment he saw the intense concentration and hunger there, well,  couldn’t deny the fact that it was one of the hottest sights he’d ever seen. As if thinking the same thing, Brian squeezed the base of his cock once more before reaching into his boxers and focusing on the tip that had already dampened his underwear. Roger closed his eyes once more, not to block out the image before him, but because the sensation of Brian’s fingers against his skin was too overwhelming for him to keep steady.

He’d never been lacking for female company—a cute brunette had given him a handjob and some quick head after their last gig, just a few days go—and he certainly wasn’t touch-starved or anything., And yet, somehow, he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last or why he couldn’t help the primal sounds that were escaping him. Nothing he’d ever done before had felt like this, like every nerve ending in his body was on fire. For a few seconds, he thought about Brian lying on top of him, pressing his whole body down to keep him in place, sucking at his neck, instead of clumsily propped by one arm on his side next to him like they were right now.

The picture he was painting in his mind—one where both of them were enjoying this, where he could see Brian’s face twist up in pleasure as he was sure his own was at the moment—made him let out a shaky, “B-Brian…yes oh fuck,” that echoed in the empty room.

This time he clearly heard Brian mumble, “god, Roger,” in a deep voice he had never heard before. The mention of his name combined with the fast pace that Brian was now leading edged him closer to the end. He forced himself to open his eyes and tilt his head sideways slightly so that when he came seconds later he was biting his lower lip and looking directly into Brian’s eyes, pupils blown wide with arousal. He had no idea why he had done that, but it made every moment from his release to his comedown so much more intense, something intimate and strangely sweet lurking under the wave of pleasure washing over him. He registered Brian rolling to his back and trying to calm his breathing as well and hazily took notice of a mop of curls brushing against his shoulders. He was beyond excuses now, but he knew his brain was going to rush to come up with some the moment he woke up tomorrow..

But that would be a problem for awake Roger, the same that would have to deal with looking at Brian when they were rehearsing in the morning. Right now it seemed like his friend was correct—all he needed was to relax and sleep would come on its own. He felt all of the day’s exhaustion flooding through him, and as if from far away he thought he heard Brian say something, but for the life of him, Roger couldn’t figure out what. So before he could make out what maybe were words of doubt or rejection—something he dreaded thinking about—Roger took a chance and rolled over so that they were lying exactly opposite as before, with Brian on his back and Roger turned on his side, facing him.

The last alert part of his brain registered his sleeping shirt being damp and sticky, so he pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the floor, Then, he threw his arms around Brian’s waist and settled on top of his chest. The warmth of Brian’s chest and the subtle movements of his breathing, mixed with his post-orgasm calm meant he could finally feel sleep approaching. The last thing he felt was a slender hand toying idly with his hair and caressing the back of his neck as he drifted off into darkness.

[wittystiles]

The Bluff || Part Four || Mitch Rapp

Author: wittystiles

Word count: 3.8+k

Title: Chapter Three

Summary: Mitch Rapp is the unlikeliest of nurses, and Stan gives Mitch a new mission.

Warnings: Cursing (as expected). Blood. So much sass.

A/N: Listen y’all, this was a nightmare. I could not write this for whatever reason. I even dubbed this “tuberculosis” at one point, because I was so fed up. I wanna shout out my wifey @ellie-bee242 for literally forcing me to write this and being my cheerleader. I love you. -- Y’all I forgot to take my placeholder name out, because I’m a raccoon (trash), so. I had to delete the previous post and repost this shit. I’m sorry. I’m worthless, lmao. Anyway, here’s my second attempt. Enjoy, please.

Mitch carried a suture kit to the bed, setting it on the nightstand beside (Y/N), his phone held to his ear by his shoulder. He listened to the ringing as he dialed Stan, his eyes widening to full alertness when he heard his trainers familiar rough voice answer on the other end. 

“What is it, Rapp?”

Mitch sighed, “I have a situation on my hands, Sir.” He looked down at (Y/N) who was sleeping soundly, unmoving since he’d laid her on the bed nearly twenty minutes ago. He wondered absently how much they’d given her or if he should be worried about her going into an overdose. He decided she would have done it before he arrived if that were the case. 

Stan grunted into the phone, “you always have a fucking situation on your hands, Rapp. I have a file cabinet in my office filled to the brim with situations and fuckups you’ve gotten yourself into in the two years that I’ve known you. What could it possibly be this time?”

Mitch left the bedroom where (Y/N) was sleeping, walking to the living room of his suite. “The arms dealer managed to make an escape, Sir. He had a hostage in his room that I was not prepared for. I chose saving the girl over capturing him.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end where Mitch worried they’d lost connection. “Excuse me?” Stan finally asked, and Mitch heard what sounded like a car door slamming in the background. “You what?”

Mitch picked up a water from the mini bar, pouring it into the plastic cup beside it. “I said, and I quote, the ar-”

Stan grunted and cut Mitch off, “don’t be a little shit with me right now, Rapp. I don’t need your condescending ass remarks. You lost the arms dealer?”

“Yes,” Mitch said, struggling to keep his tone neutral.

Stan raised his voice, “that was your only fucking purpose for being there, you little shit! How do you manage to fuck up your only job?”

Mitch carried the glass into the bedroom, set it down beside the suture kit, and then returned to the living room. “Like I said, Sir,” Mitch’s voice was dripping disdain. “There was an unexpected hostage situation. I valued the life of a possible civilian over that of an arms dealer.”

“What was your assignment?”

“To detain and question the arms dealer.”

“And what was it you didn’t fucking do?”

Mitch rolled his eyes, flopping down on the couch. “I’m not going to answer you when you talk to me like that.”

Stan boomed a loud laugh into the phone, “who the fuck do you think you are you little shit? You’re going to answer me no matter how I speak to you. That’s why being the boss is so wonderful. Assholes like you have to respond to me.”

Mitch took a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose between his first finger and thumb, remembering the punch he’d taken earlier. “Do you like being the biggest asshole, Sir?”

“Don’t be cute with me, boy.” Mitch listened to Stan speak in French to someone, presumably. “Where are you and this civilian that was more important than a Goddamn arms dealer?”

“In my room, Sir.”

Stan groaned, ‘of course she is. So you played knight in shining fucking armor to this chick?”

“Not really, Sir. I just took them out of their literal hostage situation. She was tied to a bed, and drugged, Sir.”

Stan sighed into the phone. “I’ll come rescue you from this bullshit soon, Rapp. Stay put, and don’t fuck anything else up for us, would you?”

Mitch disconnected from Stan, not bothering to retort. He slid his phone into the front left pocket of his jeans before pushing up from the couch. He heard a noise in the bedroom, running in to see the glass of water knocked off of the nightstand, the carpet now soaked. “What are you doing?” Mitch asked, bending to pick the glass up. He placed it back on the nightstand, resting his hands on his hips as he looked down at the half conscious woman.

“I was thirsty,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Can I please have water?”

Mitch took a deep breath before walking out of the room, returning with the half empty water bottle he’d used to fill the cup. “Here.” He held the bottle out to her, decided against it as she lifted her hand, and instead took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Lift your head.” He said, reaching out to hook his hand around the back of her neck to hold her head up. He held the water bottle against her lips, letting her drink for a moment before putting the bottle onto the nightstand, releasing her neck so she could lay back down.

“Do you feel alright?” He asked, trailing his eyes over her face, neck, and chest.

“No.” She murmured. “Not quite alright. Think ‘absolutely terrible’, that’s where I am.”

Mitch smirked, “wonderful.” Taking a moment to assess her injuries, he noted nothing would need immediate attention on her face. “It’s your shoulder, right?” He asked, indicating the spot she’d shown him a wound earlier.

She nodded, “yeah. You can look at it again, if you’d like?”

Mitch nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see it, her eyes had shut again. Slowly, Mitch moved the top of her shirt to the side, seeing the top bit of the knife wound. “May I undo a button on your shirt?” He asked of her, resting his hands on his thighs.

“Just take it off, it’s not mine and I don’t want to wear it any more. It’s his.” She near hissed the last word, shifting a bit to get the bottom of the shirt out from underneath her butt.

“Are you sure?” Mitch asked, clearing his throat.

(Y/N) reached down, beginning to fumble with the last button on the shirt. “Yep.” She grumbled, opening her eyes and craning her neck forward to see what she was doing.

“Here,” Mitch said, gently nudging her hands away. “Let me.” He slowly began undoing the buttons on the shirt, swallowing thickly when they were all popped. “Uh, you need to lift up.” He said, trying not to focus his eyes on her bare chest.

“Can you help me?” She asked in a soft voice. Mitch nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist, lifting her up. He pulled the shirt off of her arms and threw it to the side of the room, laying her back down against the bed. “Where’s your bra?” He asked, indicating her chest with a glance.

“If I knew, don’t you think I would be wearing it?”

Mitch clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes a bit at her. “You realize I’ve got to stitch your shoulder, don’t you?”

(Y/N) nodded.

“And so my hands are going to be -” Mitch pointed at the spot on her chest where the wound was.

“I know.” She said sounding unamused. “Look, guy, they’re just tits. I’m assuming you’ve seen a pair before, yeah? So just, stitch my shoulder and oogle at my chest later. I may even let you enjoy them, but for now. I need water, and my shoulder closed, and a fucking nap. I’m exhausted. So, focus.”

Mitch shook his head, his eyes widening in surprise. “Who are you?”

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you. Who are you? I think it’s fair I know since you’re gonna be fondling me for a while.”

Mitch scoffed, “I’m going to ignore you now and focus.”

He stood from the bed, walking into the bathroom to find something to sterilize her wound. He washed his hands thoroughly noticing that there was a clean set of wash clothes on the tub. He walked them out and set them on the suture kit. “Drugs still kicking in?” 

(Y/N) was asleep again, her breathing steady. Mitch watched her for a moment before shaking his head, deciding that was creepy. “(Y/N)?” He whispered, trying to see if she was a light sleeper.

(Y/N) didn’t react.

Mitch sat down on the bed beside her again, opening up the suture kit. He produced a needle and rubbing alcohol, dousing one of the washcloths before cleaning around her shoulder. He then wiped the needle clean and huffed. “I know you’re not awake right now, which is good, but I hate threading needles.” Mitch bit his tongue between his teeth as he fiddled with the needle and thread, taking longer than he thought should be allowed on anything to finally thread it.

“Okay,” he said as he placed one hand on her chest. “This is gonna suck, I promise. But it’ll be over soon, and you and I can go our separate ways. No one will be the wiser.” Mitch took a deep breath, steadied his hands, and pushed the needle through her skin.

(Y/N) reacted immediately, her hand shooting up to grab Mitch’s throat. She hit his adam's apple in the process of wrapping her hand around his neck, squeezing automatically. “What the fuck?” She screamed, looking at the needle in her shoulder.

Mitch grabbed her wrist, ripping her hand off of his throat, trying to regain his breath. He rubbed at his neck with his free hand, keeping his other wrapped tightly around her wrist in case she felt the need to choke him again. When he could breath again, he threw her hand aside. “I could ask you the same fucking thing? Why the throat?”

(Y/N) shrugged, regretted it, and winced. “I knew it would stop whatever the hell was going on. I was asleep! And suddenly I’m being pierced.”

“I’m stitching your shoulder, (Y/N).” Mitch still had a hand around his throat, almost as if he felt the need to still protect it.

“Well it’s appropriate to wake someone up before sticking a needle through their skin, wouldn’t you agree?” Mitch shook his head, “I thought I was doing you a favor by leaving you unconscious.”

(Y/N) slumped back against her pillows, shaking her head. “You were wrong, and the choking was your fault. Really, you should be apologizing to me for making me go through that.”

“YOU CHOKED ME!” Mitch shouted at her, letting his hand drop from his throat. “I should choke you back, make it even.”

“Buy me dinner first.” (Y/N) gave him a smile, which Mitch eye rolled to in return.

“You’re not a joker, are you?”

Mitch didn’t bother acknowledging her question, instead he reached out and plucked the needle from her skin. “There. Bleed for all I care, (Y/N). I’m not going to get strangled again because you have a rapid and drastic response to a needle.”

“It startled me!” She defended. “I’ve had to be alert and unable to respond to anything that has happened to me in days. I was asleep, and I forgot that I was with you and not that fucking prick anymore. When I realized I could use my hands, that was what I was going to do.”

Mitch gave her what he felt was a frown, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider, I should have woken you up.”

(Y/N) was taken a bit aback by his apology, nodding her head a little. “Thank you, you’re forgiven. I’m sorry for strangling you.” She added on as an afterthought. “Now, can we please get back to stitching me up? I don’t think this wound is going to heal if it stays gaping like it is.”

Mitch shrugged a bit, “you’d be surprised what the human body was capable of.” He took the needle in his fingers again, taking a deep breath in. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked, hand hovering over her wound. (Y/N) gave him a nod, furrowing her brows to prove that she was sure. Mitch turned his attention to her wound, placing his hand without the needle back onto her chest, pushing the wound closed a little with his thumb and first finger.

“Ready?” Mitch stuck the needle into her skin again before (Y/N) could respond, shoving it through the other side of the wound in a swift motion. (Y/N) pressed her lips together in a tight frown, watching him as he stitched her wound.

“You know, for a tough looking guy like yourself, you’re being really gentle. Even your hand that’s holding the wound shut is light.”

“Was I supposed to be some bull of a guy who was rough with everything?” (Y/N) nearly shrugged but stopped herself, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Mitch sighed, continuing to stitch the knife wound in her shoulder. “You doin’ okay?” He asked when he heard her take in a quick breath of air, her hand shooting out to grab his arm. Her fingers gripped his bicep, her blunt nails digging into the skin that wasn’t covered by the short sleeve of his black tee.

“Yep, m’fine.” She promised, continuing to watch him work. “You still haven’t told me your name, by the way. I told you mine, it’s only fair.”

“What makes you think I trust you with my name?” Mitch had no sarcasm to his voice. He glanced at her hand, which was still holding his arm, and chose not to comment on it, letting her hold him as long as it helped her with the stitches.

“I trusted you with mine.” (Y/N) pointed out, fingers digging harder into his skin when he pinched her wound closer together.

Mitch tugged on the thread to tighten the stitches and close the wound. (Y/N) let out a sharp hiss, and he said his name. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, but she was fighting them back valiantly.

“Almost done,” Mitch told (Y/N), going back over the stitches once more to make sure that they were secured.

“What did you say?” (Y/N) asked in a whisper. “We’re almost done.” Mitch repeated, eyes focused on her shoulder.

“No,” (Y/N) slowly shook her head. “Before that. When you were pulling on the thread. You said a word.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, “I said my name. Not my fault if you didn’t hear me. I’m not repeating it.”

(Y/N) nodded her head, “yes you are. You’ve got my tits in your face, and you’ve been poking me with a needle for what feels like an eternity. You’re gonna repeat your name to me. I’ve shown everything to you, least you can do is tell me what to call you.”

Huffing, Mitch took his eyes off of her shoulder to make eye contact with her. “Would you please stop mentioning your tits?”

“Would you please tell me your name, and not act like you don’t appreciate them?”

Mitch groaned, “you’re done.”

“Done what? Are you gonna kill me because I asked your name? That seems a little Goddamn dramatic, don’t you think?”

Mitch grabbed her chin in his hand, turning her head to look at her shoulder. “With. The. Stitches.”

(Y/N) let out a relieved breath, looking over at her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Mitch nodded, searching in the kit for gauze and tape to cover the wound. “Mitch.” He said, tearing open the packet of gauze.

“Excuse me? I say thank you, and you call me a bitch?” (Y/N) went to scoot away from him, catching his faint chuckle.

“I didn’t say ‘bitch’, (Y/N). I said Mitch.” He made a hard m sound, so that she wouldn’t mishear him again. “That’s my name, since you were so insistent on knowing it.”

(Y/N) smiled a little, “I pegged you for a Chris or an Alex myself. You know? Some boring name.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, taping the gauze to her wound. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“You didn’t,” (Y/N) rushed to say. “I was just. You aren’t what I expect, Mitch.”

“Is that bad?” Mitch stood from the bed, cleaning up the mess from stitching her wound.

“Not at all! I just don’t get surprised by people a lot.”

Mitch threw the suture kit into his bag, “you were abducted and held hostage. How do people not surprise you all of the time?”

(Y/N) took a moment before responding, “you’ve got me there. I don’t have a response.”

Mitch pulled a shirt from his duffle and returned to the bed, holding it out for (Y/N) to take.

“I don’t want your shirt.”

“Do you have another option?” Mitch shook the shirt a little.

“No.” (Y/N) sighed, reaching out to take the shirt from him. She sat up, hesitating for a moment, before pulling the shirt on over her head. “God. Every movement sucks.”

(Y/N) shoved her arms through the sleeves of the shirt, moving to cross her legs underneath herself, the drugs wearing off enough for her to be mostly cognitive.

“I’ll leave you to rest. You should finish that bottle of water, (Y/N). You need your fluids, it’s important.”

Mitch turned on his heels to walk out, catching what (Y/N) spoke to him. “Thank you, for saving my life.”

-

Stan hit the door to Mitch’s hotel room with the side of his fist hard enough to make the door shake. “Open up, punk.”

Mitch jogged to the door, pulling it open. “You don’t have to pound so hard on the door. I heard your knocking.”

Stan shrugged, brushing past Mitch to enter the room. “Where’s the girl?” Stan asked, looking around the living room. Mitch shut the door and threw the lock, indicating towards the bedroom.

“She’s in there. She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, how sweet.” Stan rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. “Get rid of her.”

Mitch raised his left brow at Stan, crossing his own arms across his chest. “What do you mean get rid of her, Stan?”

“Kill her, Rapp. We have no way of knowing if she’s working with the arms dealer or not. Kill her before she gets a chance to kill you.”

“She’s had a chance,” Mitch confessed. “And she didn’t. She’s not going to.”

“What do you mean she’s had a chance?” Stan hardened his eyes on his trainee, trying to come off angry.

“I was suturing her wound, here-,“ Mitch indicated the spot on his shoulder, two or so inches under his collarbone, where (Y/N)’s stab wound was. “And she reacted rapidly. Reached out and grabbed my throat. She scared herself more than she scared me, Stan. She isn’t a threat, I would have known if she were by now.”

Stan stared at Mitch for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re dumber than you look, Rapp.” Stan walked to the bedroom before Mitch could stop him, opening the door wide to look at (Y/N), unconscious and curled up on the bed.

“Wake up.” Stan barked, huffing when she didn’t stir.

Mitch clamped a hand on Stan’s shoulder, pulling him back a bit, shutting the door to the bedroom. “I said, she’s sleeping.”

“Was she wearing your shirt?” Stan pushed Mitch’s hand off of his shoulder. “You ever grab me like that again, asshole, I’ll shatter your wrist.”

Mitch sighed heavily, “I know. And you’ll make sure it’s the one I jerk myself with, so I can never have any happiness. You’ve used that one before. You should get more imaginative. Take a creative writing class, Sir.”

Stan clenched his jaw, “It’s taking every ounce of control in me not to rock your jaw.”

“Do people still say that, Sir?”

Stan inhaled sharply through his nose, raising his hand to smack Mitch on the back of the head, catching Mitch by surprise.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, his hand rubbing at the spot Stan hit.

“I saw that in a show once. That was how the boss controlled his piece of shit understudy. It works wonderfully, so it seems. Like flicking a dog on the nose.”

“That’s been shown to make dogs more aggravated, Sir.”

“What are you, a fucking dog whisper? Shut up, Rapp, and get back on subject.”

“What’s the subject?” Mitch asked, sincerely.

“THE GIRL!” Stan shouted in Mitch’s face, turning his head to look at the door to the bedroom. “Kill her, before she can do anything to anyone. We don’t know anything about her, and I trust her almost less than I trust you.”

“She isn’t going to do anything.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, “this is exactly why I have high blood pressure. I’m going to have a cardiac embolism before I’m 70.”

“Before? Aren’t you already well past that, Sir? If you did, though, I’m sure the agency would allow you to retire. Or, rather, force you to. You’re well past the retirement age, aren’t you?”

“You really think you’re a fuckin’ comedian, don’t you?”

“No, Sir.” Mitch fought a smirk. “I think I’m a CIA special operative. Why, do you think I’m funny? Perhaps I could have a side gig.”

Stan raised his hand and thwacked Mitch on the back of the head again, this time hard enough to force Mitch to bob his head.

“Sir, if you hit me again, I’m gonna break your wrist.”

“The day you do, Mitch, is the day I let you fuck me.”

“What?” Mitch asked, recoiling from Stan a bit.  “I would never want to fuck you, Sir. With or without your consent.”

“You completely missed my condescension, Rapp. I will never let you fuck me, just like I’d never let you break my wrist. If anyone’s getting fucked it’s you.”

“You wanna fuck me, Sir?”

Stan grunt, “No! Can we stop talking about this? You’re avoiding the conversation, Mitch.”

“About you screwing me? You’re the one who ended it.”

“About the girl.” Stan nearly screamed in Mitch’s face, a thick vein sticking out in his neck.

“What about her, Sir? I told you, she’s sleeping.”

Stan took a few deep breaths, making his way over to the mini-fridge, searching around the small bottles of liquor until he found the whiskey. He unscrewed the cap, and drank back the bottle in one swallow. “Mitch, poor stupid Mitch. You trust this girl?”

“To an extent.”

“You’ve already fucked up, then.” Stan grabbed the second small bottle of whiskey and threw it back.

“How so, Sir?”

“She’s your fuckin’ problem now.”

Mitch rest his hands on the back of the couch between him and Stan. “What?”

“Well, Rapp. You’re the one who rescued her, mistake one. Then you brought her here, mistake two. And you stitched her up, that’s three. Now you’re defending her, and not putting a bullet between her eyes. So. She’s your problem now, Mitch. Until we catch the arms dealer, you’re her protection. Think of it as babysitting, only she’ll probably end up killing you. Or people that want her will. Isn’t that exciting?”

“I’m not babysitting her, Sir. I’ve done my job. I rescued her, now I’m handing her over. You, or Irene, or the CIA themselves can deal with her. I’m washing my hands of the situation.”

“Rapp, she’s yours now. End of story. She’s your new mission.”

“Fuck me,” Mitch huffed under his breath.

~

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