#i didn't know if i should've said burning but like admit how long it's been jack

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 3 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, explicit language, video call sex.

wc. 5k

a/n i’m already halfway done with pt 4…i have a lot of free time…

2, 3, 4,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

It had been a week, and Price couldn’t shake the knot of paranoia in his chest. Every time he saw your brother, he expected the conversation to turn, expected him to throw a punch or call him out for his disgusting actions. Price had barely slept, imagining the fallout: the disgust in your brother’s eyes, Ghost’s sharp judgment if he found out his captain was sneaking onto your streams.

But nothing had happened. Ghost remained oblivious and hadn’t acted any differently toward him. That only made it worse—because Price was certain you hadn’t forgotten. No, you had recognized him. You’d seen him.

And yet, you hadn’t said a word. The silence was eating him alive. Were you disgusted? Angry? Planning to expose him? The uncertainty was unbearable. He tried to keep his mind busy by burying himself in his work. But he was constantly plagued by the fear that he’d get a knock on his door, and it would be Ghost, ready to beat him within an inch of his life.

Price couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was maddening. Every quiet moment, every pause in the day, his thoughts drifted back to you—back to that call. The way you moved, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him, and that soft gasp when you realized who he was.

He’d spent the entire week replaying it in his mind. How you’d looked, how you’d blushed when he praised you, and the way you scrambled to end the call when recognition dawned on your face. The memory made his chest tighten and his blood heat. He knew it was wrong—knew the lines he’d crossed—but that didn’t stop him. It only made the desire worse.

Nights were the hardest. Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he could almost hear your voice again, soft and sweet, calling him “Daddy” in that timid little tone. He’d clench his fists, trying to shake the thought, but it never worked. He hated himself for it—wanted to convince himself that it was just the heat of the moment—but he knew better. You were under his skin now, and he couldn’t shake you loose.

He tried distracting himself with work. Paperwork, training schedules, anything to keep his hands busy. But every time he’d pass Ghost, that familiar pang of paranoia would hit him. What if he knows? What if you told him? It was a vicious cycle—work, worry, and want, all twisting together until he was a mess of frustration.

And then there were the quiet moments when his mind wandered without permission. He found himself wondering what you were doing now. Were you thinking about him too? Were you avoiding your streams, afraid he might appear again? Or worse—were you streaming, letting someone else watch you, hear you, make you blush like that? The thought made his jaw clench.

One night, he sat alone in his office, a glass of whiskey in hand, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. He pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over the app he’d used to find you. It would be so easy to look you up again, to click and see if you were live. But he stopped himself, setting the phone down with a growl. He couldn’t. Not again. But God, he wanted to.

For days, you stayed curled up in your pink, soft blankets, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. You should've been disgusted, horrified even, that your brother's captain—his boss-had been watching you like that. And yet, every time you thought about it, your cheeks burned for an entirely different reason.

You couldn't shake the way his deep, commanding voice had sent shivers down your spine. The way he praised you, so filthy and raw, had you plunging your fingers into your wet cunt again and again.

And the way he bossed you around, his tone laced with authority, had made your body ache in ways you didn't want to admit. You knew it was wrong-so, so wrong-but the thought of him, of how he wanted you, refused to leave your mind. It was dangerous, forbidden, and yet you couldn't stop yourself from wondering... what if it happened again?

You clutched the edge of your blanket, staring at the blank screen in front of you, your thoughts spiraling. He didn't know it was you-how could he? You'd always worn your mask, kept your identity hidden. To him, you were just another faceless streamer. Just someone he stumbled upon, nothing more. That thought gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

He couldn't possibly connect the dots. He didn't know you were his lieutenant's little sister. That made it... safe, didn't it? At least, that's what you kept telling yourself. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as your mind whispered dangerous thoughts.

Would it really be so wrong if it happened again? If you let him watch, let him command you? You reasoned it wasn't personal for him —it was just the thrill of the moment. But for you... the memory of his voice alone made your stomach twist in ways you couldn't ignore.

You bit your lip, a mixture of guilt and anticipation flooding your senses. One more time wouldn't hurt. He didn't know. He couldn't know. You conjured up an email, hoping he'd respond.

Hi! Price,

I just wanted to say how sorry I am for how our last call ended. Something personal came up, and I had to leave so suddenly... I really hope I didn't upset you.

As a way to make it up to you, l'd love to offer another video call, completely free, if you'd like. Just let me know what works best for you, and I'll make sure I'm all yours this time.

Thank you for being so understanding. I hope to hear from you soon!

Yours,

Angel

You stared at the screen, your finger hovering over the send button. The thought of him finding out it was you-your brother's captain, of all people-made your stomach flip with anxiety. What if he did recognize you? What if he went straight to your brother and told him what his little sister was doing?

The mere thought sent a chill down your spine. But... then again, what if he didn't find out? What it you were careful, kept everything just right, and he never connected the dots? Your heart raced with the risk, the thrill of the secrecy. If you could just keep your identity hidden a little longer, maybe you could let this dangerous game play out. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves. The desire to continue, to feel that rush again, gnawed at you. Your hands trembled as you clicked the send button.

John sat back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. The past week had been a blur of tension, his thoughts plagued by that night. He couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when the webcam shifted, the shock in your eyes as you recognized him.

He had barely slept since, half-expecting you to show up at his door or, worse, tell your brother what you'd seen. He opened his inbox absentmindedly, eyes scanning the subject line of a new email. It caught his attention-your name glowing back at him-and a pang of curiosity tugged at his chest. He clicked open the message and started reading, his brow furrowing as he processed your words.

"I'm so sorry how our last call ended..."

A wave of relief washed over him as he read further. You were apologizing for the way things had ended, offering to make it up to him. His fingers lingered over the screen as he reread the part about a free rescheduled call, and his heart raced. Were you serious? Or was this some sort of trap? Would your brother be on the other end of that call?

John leaned back, tension settling back into his shoulders. He could feel the heat of the situation creeping up on him again. The desire to see you, to hear you, to feel that connection again was almost too strong to resist.

John leaned back in his chair, trying to suppress the rush of emotions that flooded his chest as he remembered the way you had responded to him. The soft, breathy gasps, the way your body had moved in perfect sync with his words—it was like you had become his in that moment. He could still feel the tension in the air, how you had melted at his voice, obediently following his instructions without hesitation.

Your responses had been soft, shy, and yet there was something powerful in the way you surrendered to him, something that had stirred something deep inside him.

He hadn't expected you to listen so easily, to let go of your inhibitions like that. And the way your body had moved-slow, deliberate, responding to him like he was the only thing that mattered.

He bit his lip, remembering how he had commanded, how you had obeyed. His heart thumped in his chest as he realized just how much control he had over you, how much you had let him in. It made him want to take it further, push the limits, see just how far you'd go.

His thoughts drifted to the email now sitting in his inbox, a silent invitation from you. He couldn't stop the grin from tugging at his lips. He knew it was risky, but the temptation was too strong. He had to see you again, hear you again, and feel that same power dynamic build between you.

Dear Angel,

First off, no need to apologize-I completely understand that things can come up. That being said, Ive been thinking about our last call... and I have to admit, I haven't been able to shake the memory of it.

I'd definitely be interested in rescheduling, and I'll make sure we have a bit more time to really enjoy our time. How does tomorrow evening sound to you? I'm flexible, so just let me know what works for you.

Looking forward to it.

Best,

Price

You giggle softly, your cheeks flushing as you read his reply. The thought that he's been thinking about you too sends a thrill through you. You glance at his words about his flexibility and the teasing thought crosses your mind. You want to reply something cheeky, something bold like how you're flexible too, and how he can bend you however he wants. You could say it... something bold, something that would make him want you more.

But you bite your lip, hesitant. Instead, you type a more subtle response, keeping your playful nature intact, but holding back the risqué thoughts.

Price,

That sounds perfect. I'll make myself available, just let me know what time specifically works for you. Can't wait to talk again soon.

Yours,

Angel

You lie in bed, the soft sheets wrapped around you as your mind drifts, you can't help but imagine how you'll look on the next call-how you'll make sure every inch of you is perfect for him. You run your fingers through your hair, mentally picturing yourself in the right lighting, the right angle.

You want to be flawless, to catch his attention in a way that makes him crave you more. The thought of impressing him, of hearing his approval, fills you with anticipation.

You slip out of bed, the warmth of the blankets leaving you with a soft shiver. You know exactly what you need, and the idea of finding the perfect lingerie set for him sends a thrill through your body. You quickly get dressed, pulling on something comfortable, and head out to the nearest Victoria's Secret, your mind racing with anticipation.

As you walk through the store, your fingers graze the delicate fabrics, envisioning how it will look on you. You want it to be just right, so perfect for him.

A stunning pink lace lingerie set catches your eye. The corset is beautiful, hugging the waist in all the right places, cinching you in perfectly, making your curves pop. The lace details are delicate, almost fragile, and the tiny bows scattered along it only add to the allure.

Attached to the corset is a skirt made of the same soft pink lace, flowing gently around your hips, teasing just enough.

But it's the garters and thigh-high stockings that really seal the deal. The set is perfect-sexy, feminine, and exactly what you need to make an unforgettable impression. You bite your lip, already imagining how it'll look when you wear it, and you can't help but feel a little thrill run through you at the thought of what's to come.

The next day, you wake up with a flutter of nerves in your stomach, the excitement building as the time for your call draws near. You spend the entire morning getting ready, carefully setting the mood for what's about to unfold.

You start with a long, hot shower, letting the water relax your muscles as you shave every inch of your skin. The scent of your favorite body wash fills the air, and once you're done, you lotion every part of your body, making your skin soft and silky to the touch. You follow with a layer of oil, making sure you glow. You even powder lightly, giving yourself a flawless finish, as if you're preparing for a show, not just a call.

Even though he can't smell you through the screen, you spritz your best perfume- something light, fresh, and sweet-just for the touch of confidence it gives you. It's your little secret, and it makes you feel ready.

You curl your hair perfectly, each wave soft and bouncy, framing your face just the way you like it. When you step back and look at yourself in the mirror, you feel... different. You feel empowered, beautiful, ready. The lingerie set you picked out is waiting for you, laid neatly on your bed.

As the time ticks closer, you take one last glance around your room, making sure everything is just as you want it. Even your bed is perfectly made, the soft sheets and pillows arranged just so, setting the stage for the night ahead. Your heart races with anticipation, knowing every detail is about to fall into place.

You move toward your setup, carefully adjusting your webcam, making sure the angle captures just the right view. Then, you flick on your setup lights, but only direct them toward the bed. The soft glow they cast highlights the space perfectly, making the room feel inviting and intimate. With a deep breath, you switch off your bedroom lights, letting the cool darkness surround you. The only illumination now comes from the candles you've scattered around the room. Their dancing flames flicker softly, casting shadows that add an alluring, romantic vibe to the room. The air feels charged, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.

Everything is set. All that's left is the call. Your nerves mingle with excitement, knowing this is the moment you've been waiting for.

With a deep breath, you step into the lingerie, feeling the soft lace hug your body in all the right ways. The corset cinches your waist, accentuating your curves, while the delicate lace feels like a second skin. You pull on the matching panties, the fabric smooth and soft against your skin.

Carefully, you adjust the tiny skirt, letting it fall perfectly over your hips. It's light, teasing, and just enough to make the outfit feel complete. You attach the stockings to the garters, feeling the smooth fabric stretch over your legs, the garters snug against your thighs, holding them in place.

The set fits you perfectly, every detail just as it should be. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and a little nervousness, knowing that everything is ready now. The candles flicker in the dim room, casting soft light over the delicate lace. You take a final breath, steeling yourself for the call that's about to begin.

You reach for your little white lace mask, your fingers brushing over the delicate fabric. It's the finishing touch. You tie it carefully behind your head, adjusting it so it sits perfectly, framing your eyes and cheeks.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your legs crossed delicately, hands resting in your lap as you try to calm your racing heart. The soft glow from the setup lights bathes you in a flattering hue, while the flickering candlelight creates an intimate ambiance around the room.

You glance at the screen, the little "connecting" symbol spinning as you wait for him to join. Every second feels like an eternity, your nerves buzzing with anticipation.

You adjust the tiny skirt once more, smoothing it down over your thighs, and take a slow, steadying breath. The moment the screen flickers to life, your heart skips a beat. His face appears, and you're immediately struck by the way his sharp features soften slightly as he takes you in. You can see his jaw tighten, his eyes scanning the screen, taking in every detail of you.

You bite your lip, your voice soft as you finally speak.

"Hi..."

The moment his face appears on the screen, he's completely silent. His dark eyes roam over you slowly, taking in every painstaking detail-the delicate pink lingerie hugging your body, the way your perfectly curled hair frames your face, the soft glow of your skin in the candlelight.

His gaze lingers, almost reverent, as though he's trying to memorize every inch of you. The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a faint smirk, but his silence speaks louder than any words could. It's in the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, the way his eyes darken with something raw and unrestrained.

For a moment, the tension hangs thick between you, his voice caught somewhere in his throat. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough, and thick with desire. "Christ... you're perfect."

You smile softly, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let your eyes flicker down shyly for a moment before meeting his again. "Sorry about how I ended our last call...something came up" you say softly, forcing a polite smile. Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is racing. You can still remember the moment you realized who he was, the rush of shock that made you end the call so abruptly. But you've convinced yourself that he doesn't know, that he couldn't possibly have pieced it together.

On the other side of the screen, his smirk twitches, subtle but unmistakable. His sharp eyes linger on you a little too long, and there's something in his expression —a flicker of amusement, maybe even satisfaction-that makes your stomach twist. He leans back slightly, his tone casual but laced with a knowing edge.

"Something came up, huh?" he repeats, almost like he's testing you. But he doesn't push, letting the moment hang between you.

You nod quickly, desperate to keep the air light, unaware that he already knows exactly why you ended the call-and that he's watching you closely, waiting for you to slip. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he says, leaning in just a little closer, his voice smooth, almost reassuring, "I understand. Things come up. We're good, yeah?"

You clear your throat, trying to shake off the awkwardness that lingers in the air. "So, how've you been?" you ask, your voice a little softer than usual, almost uncertain. You can't help the way your nerves spike, knowing exactly who he is-your brother's boss, a military captain in his 40s. And yet, here he is, sitting across from you on a video call, just another man on the other side of the screen. But it's not just any call-it's this call. This man, so authoritative in his world, is sitting here, watching you.

Price can't help but smile as you talk to him, he knows you're lying. He doesn't call you out on it, but he's enjoying the fact that you don't know that he knows. He can tell just by the sound of your voice alone that you're nervous, but you're trying to act polite.

"I've been good, darlin". Been missing you though", he responds with a soft chuckle. He tries not to sound too desperate or obvious, he wants to play along and see how long it'll take you to crack. You can't help but smile, the warmth spreading across your face as the sound of his voice lingers in your mind. You let out a little giggle, almost shy, but it escapes before you can stop it. "Really?" you ask.

Price can't help but smirk at your school girl giggle, the sound of which seems to go straight to his core. "Yes, really" he responds playfully. "I've been thinking about you a lot, doll" he adds, his voice low. You shift on your bed, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks. The way he's looking at you, the way his words hang in the air, makes your heart race and your stomach flutter. You can't help but feel giddy, your body betraying your attempt to stay composed.

“...Thinking about me how?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, and you can't quite bring yourself to meet his gaze. There's a pause on Price's end, a moment that seems to stretch on into eternity as he stares at you through the screen. "Oh, you want specific details, huh darling?" he asks lowly, his eyes roaming over you. He can barely keep his voice steady, his body is heating up just looking at you.

You nod softly, your fingers nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt, twisting and turning as you try to steady your breath. The quiet tension between you both feels like it's building with every second. You can't help but feel a little shy under his gaze, yet at the same time, the thrill of it all keeps you grounded, your curiosity pushing you to want to know more.

You glance up briefly, meeting his eyes for just a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. “..l want to know" you murmur, your voice soft but eager. Price's gaze is intense as he stares deeply into your eyes through the screen, taking in your every move.

Your shyness is only making Price want you even more, and the tension between you is growing. When you tell him you want to know his lips curve into a smirk, his eyes flickering over your body. He leans forward, the whiskey glass dangling loosely from his fingers, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Been thinking about that tight little cunt of yours, mostly. Fantasizing about bending you over every fucking surface I see"

Price's blunt words have a powerful effect on you, they make your mind go blank for an instance before a wave of heat washes over you, his voice alone is enough to drive you insane. He's watching you intensely through the screen, taking in your reaction to his filthily words.

"You like the sound of that, baby?" he asks with a smirk, his eyes roaming over you. Price's own words make his own mind start to wander, images of you writhing under him, bent over his desk flooding his mind. "I've been thinking about your soft little moans" he says in a low voice, his eyes roaming over you on the screen. "I've been thinking about how badly I want my hands on you"

Price notices the way your thighs clench in response to his words, and it ignites something in him. "Oh, darlin...are you getting excited?" he asks with a grin, his tone a little teasing. He sets the whiskey glass down, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches down to adjust his pants, making sure his growing erection is comfortable. "I can tell by the way you're squeezing those thighs together. You're fucking dripping for me, aren't vou. andel?"

Price can't help but admire you through the screen, his eyes darkened with intensity and desire. His hand reaches down to subtly adjust the growing bulge in his pants, trying to ignore the ache in his groin. Your legs are squeezing together, as if trying to find some sort of relief for the ache that's building between your legs.

Your face is flushed, your breathing is becoming more erratic, and you're struggling to keep your eyes on him without looking away out of shyness. Price's voice drops even lower, smooth and commanding, as his gaze locks onto yours.

"Call me daddy," he says, each word deliberate, like a challenge and a request all at once. He leans forward slightly, his tone thick with desire, as he adds, "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You blush, the warmth creeping up your neck as you nod, your voice barely a whisper.

'Yes" you reply softly, the word slipping out almost shyly. Price's gaze sharpens, his lips curling into a small smirk. "I want to hear you say it," he commands gently, his tone firm but not unkind. "Say it for me, sweetheart." The room feels heavier with his words, the air thick with tension as he waits, his eyes never leaving you, eager for your response.

You whisper it, barely above a breath, the words almost lost in the quiet room “....Yes, daddy.." you murmur, your face flushed with warmth as you feel his gaze linger on you, intense and expectant. The way the words feel leaving your lips sends a wave of nervous excitement through you, making your heart race all over again.

Price's whole body almost shudders as he hears you call him that, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. It's almost too much, hearing you refer to him like that.It's a power dynamic that he never knew he craved, until he met you. He takes a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his own desire under control. "Good girl" he praises, watching you closely to see how you react to his words.

The soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, a sound so quiet, yet it doesn't go unnoticed.

Price's smirk deepens as he watches you, the shift in your demeanor not lost on him. He can see how his words are affecting you, how they make you tremble, and it only fuels the desire that's already burning inside him.

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a lower, more possessive tone. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, the words like a caress. "Let me hear more of that." His eyes remain locked on yours, searching for every reaction, every tiny movement you make.

He smirks as he sees your reaction, clearly savoring the effect his words have on you. "Such a good girl, making those sweet little noises for Daddy." He leans back, purposely giving you a glimpse of his muscular frame through his partially unbuttoned shirt.

His voice drops to a commanding growl as his eyes rake hungrily over your image on the screen. "Strip for me, angel. Nice and slow. Let Daddy see that gorgeous body he's been jerking off to every fucking night."

“Yes, daddy" you slip off your panties, tossing them to the end of bed. "Leave the stockings on," he orders, his tone smooth and firm. You slide your fingers over the delicate lace of your lingerie, the fabric clinging to your body just enough to tease, before you begin to pull it away slowly, deliberately. The tension in the air grows thick as you reveal more of you skin, each inch of you body exposed with a careful, almost tantalizing slowness.

Your hands trail down your sides, feeling the smoothness of your skin as you slides the fabric down, the lace brushing against you hips before it slips completely off. You don't rush, letting each moment stretch out, letting the anticipation build. You let the lingerie drop to the floor with a soft flutter, you body now fully exposed, save for the stockings you've kept on, the lace clinging to your legs, a final piece of the puzzle that leaves just enough to the imagination. The room is heavy with your movements, the way your eyes flick up to meet his, revealing just how much you're willing to give in this moment.

He watches with bated breath as you slowly reveal your body, his heart pounding in his chest like a fucking war drum. Every inch of exposed skin makes his mouth water, his dick hardening further in his pants. "Fuck, look at you...like a goddamn wet dream." He reaches out, his finger hovering over the screen, as if he could touch you through it. "I want to see those stockings, angel. I want to see you stand up and let me see how they cling to those fucking perfect legs of yours."

You step off the bed, moving the webcam back as you stand. His eyes lock onto your legs, the black lace stockings clinging to your shapely thighs like a second skin. He swallows hard, his mind racing with images of running his hands up those silky legs. "Turn around"

You turn obediently facing your bed.

He drinks in the view of your back, the way the stockings disappear into the curve of your backside, leaving the rest of you bare. He can't help but notice the slight sway of your hips as you turn. "Bend over," he growls. You can hear him fumbling with something before the sound of a zipper being unzipped, you try to stand and turn to see him.

"Stay," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

He wraps his fingers around his length, slowly stroking himself as he watches you bent over, the lace stockings hugging your thighs. You let out a frustrated whine "I wanna see you.."

"Not yet," he murmurs, his eyes glued to the screen as he continues to slowly stroke himself, the tip of his thumb rubbing over the sensitive head each time he reaches the top. "Please daddy?"

His hand pauses, his thumb hovering over the tip as he hears those words. He can feel his body tensing, ready to snap. "You calling me daddy isn't going to make me show you," he says gruffly. "Spread them wider," he orders, his voice low and demanding. He watches intently as you comply, the lace stockings stretching taut over your thighs as you widen your stance.

"Put your hand between your legs and rub your fucking cunt," he growls, his voice rough and commanding. He starts to stroke himself faster, watching with rapt attention as he waits for you to follow his orders.

"Slowly." You lift you upper half off the bed enough to slide your hand down to your dripping wet pussy. You let you a whine as you start to rub yourself painfully slow.

He watches intently, his cock throbbing in his hand as he sees your fingers disappear between your legs, moving languidly over your sex. The sight of your slow, teasing touches makes his teeth grind with barely restrained desire.* "Fuck, that's it..."

His eyes narrow as he sees you try to push your fingers inside. "Did I say you could fuck yourself with your fingers?" he snaps, his grip tightening around his cock.

"No, I told you to fucking rub, not shove your fingers in like a goddamn whore."

"Im sorry daddy.."

"You'd better be," he growls, his face contorting with anger and unsatisfied lust. "Now spread your legs wider and rub slower," he demands, his voice dripping with authority and unspent desire. "I want to see your fingers barely touching your little pink folds."

"No please-"

"Yes, because if you don't start fucking listening and doing exactly as I say, I'll hang up this call and leave you fucking spread open and desperate," he interrupts harshly. "So you'd better start rubbing that fucking pussy like I told you before I lose my patience."

"No! i'll listen I promise!"

He watches closely, his cock throbbing as he sees your fingers quiver against your mound, barely grazing the swollen flesh. Each feather-light stroke over your clit makes his breath hitch. "That's it... fuck," he growls approvingly, starting to stroke himself faster.

"You're doing so good being a good girl and listening," he praises softly, his tone deceivingly gentle as he continues to watch your slow, torturous rubs. "But you know what else I want?"

"What daddy?"

"I want to see you spread your lips open with your fingers," he orders, his voice low and thick with desire.

"Use your index and middle finger, spread them open wide so I can see that fucking pink hole." You moan into the bed as you comply.

His eyes widen as he sees your fingers part your lips, revealing the glistening pink interior of your pussy. He can see the head of your clit peeking out from between your folds, and the way your inner lips are slightly puffy and swollen. "Fuck... look at that,"

He continues stroking himself, faster now, his breathing heavier as he takes in the vulgar sight of your exposed sex. His cock throbs in his hand, leaking precum. "Keep holding yourself open," he commands,

"use your other hand and rub your fucking clit. Gentle.'

"Please daddy" your other hand goes down to rub your clit. His cock twitches as he watches you hesitantly start to rub your clit, your fingers moving in cautious circles. "Yeah, just like that," he encourages hoarsely, stroking himself in tandem with your movements. "Nice and slow, get yourself fucking wet."

He watches intently as your fingers circle faster, your breathing growing more labored with each passing second. The sight of your fingers glistening with arousal makes his cock ache with need. "Look at that fucking pussy, getting all wet for me," he murmurs approvingly.

"Please let me-"

He squeezes his throbbing cock harder, feeling a bead of precum trickle down the shaft as he imagines sliding into your slick heat. "Fuck, I wish I was there, burying myself deep in this tight little pussy"

"I need you-*

The conversation takes a subtle shift as Price leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his intense gaze locked on you through the screen. His voice, low and deliberate, cuts through the quiet hum of the call.

"You know, sweetheart," he starts, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, "this would be so much better if I were there in person." You stand up from the bed, turning to face the webcam.

The weight of his words makes your heart skip, and you pause, your hands stilling on the bedspread. He studies your reaction, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he already knows the effect he's having on you. "What do you say, doll?" he continues, his tone smooth and confident, laced with something deeper.

“I could come over... see you for real." He lets the suggestion hang in the air, watching as your eyes widen slightly, your cheeks flushing at the thought. "No cameras, no screens. Just you and me."

[oneofstarkskids]

girl back home

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1822 (new record?? 🤭)

genre: a lil bit of everything, but mostly fluff. you know.

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD ‼️

It was already February, and you were long overdue for some sunshine. The snow is always beautiful, especially with twinkling lights reflecting off of it. But those lights are gone now, and all you're left with is this chill to your bones.

You cling tightly to Bucky's arm, watching your steps carefully. "You okay?" He asks with a pink nose.

You can't speak without your jaw shaking violently, so you simply nod.

"I told ya' you should've brought gloves," he says with a know-it-all essence. The low temperatures must've been slowly freezing your brain cells because you didn't even make a snide remark.

The two of you finally reach your apartment building and make your way up to your floor. As soon as you're in the door, he takes your coat for you. "And you wanted ice cream," he snickers before hanging the coats and starting on a pot of coffee.

"I'll admit, I've had better ideas," you say before hurrying over to the messy pile of blankets on the couch, desperate for warmth.

After a few moments behind the counter, he walks over carrying your favorite mug. The one with the little yellow duck on it.

"Here ya' go, doll."

You give him a grateful peck on the cheek and grab the mug, careful not to burn yourself.

He moves to scooch in close to you, but his phone rings right on que. He sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket, "Hello?"

There's a pause and Bucky's face falls. "Not really a good time," he says with annoyance.

After a much longer pause, he nods as if the person on the other end can see him. "Alright, I'll be there."

He takes the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You give him that look.

"They're calling me into Washington. They want to have another meeting about the whole congress thing." Bucky trails off.

You nod, "Well, when do you leave?"

"Tonight."

The word hangs in the air for a moment as both of you contemplate the next move.

"And when are you supposed to be back?" You asked.

Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, "Valentine's Day."

You tried not to overreact. This was his job. It was important to him, and you wanted to be supportive. Besides, it wasn't like Valentine's Day was any more special than the other days when you got to spend your entire life with the man you loved.

"That's okay! We can work with that, we'll just celebrate later that night. Dinner, maybe?" You tried to be optimistic.

Bucky's demeanor changed, "You know, that's what I love about you?" He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned over you.

"Oh, really?" You asked with the biggest grin.

"Mhm," he placed a soft kiss on your jawline.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, "What else do you love about me?"

And Bucky did leave that night, with a dazed look and smirk on his lips. If that was how you said goodbye, he couldn't wait to see how you welcomed him back.

He kept in touch with you the entire time he was in Washington. Phone calls, FaceTime, endless texting. It was only for a couple days, but he never wanted to go a minute without hearing your voice.

But the plane ride there. It was hell. Not being able to see your eyes light up. Not being able to kiss those perfect lips. The guilt of leaving you behind began to weigh him down. Another fight he couldn't avoid.

The only moment he got a break from his self loathing was when he visited Sam. "Hey, buddy." The two patted each other on the backs.

"Got a knack for getting yourself in trouble don't you, Sam?" Bucky teased.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "If I recall, a lot of the trouble I've gotten into has been on your behalf."

Bucky laughed and nodded his head as if to say "touché".

"How's the girl," Sam asks, his smile reflecting his fondness for you.

Your beautiful boy just grins from ear to ear, "She's great. She's always great."

"Would you look at that," Sam says. "The man who never smiles just can't seem to stop."

Bucky shakes his head, still the flicker of a smile on his face, "She makes me...a better man."

Sam looks down at the ground. Grappling with his thoughts.

Bucky notices and turns to him.

"None of this," he gestures to Joaquin in the hospital bed, struggling to maintain stability, "is your fault."

"I don't know, Buck. I'm not cut out for this," Sam said. It wasn't something Bucky hadn't heard before. He knew his friend had always dealt with feeling unworthy of Steve's title.

"This shield was made for you, just as much as it was made for Steve. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't believe that himself," Bucky reassured him.

Sam let it sink in for a minute before cocking his head towards Bucky, "Damn. We're doing pep talks now?"

Bucky let out a laugh that was partially a scoff. He couldn't catch a break. "I meant it, Samuel. This was my last day here, and I had to make sure you knew that before I left."

Sam nodded, "Thank you, Bucky."

"I love you, Buddy." The blue eyed man said back.

"Now, I've got a plane to catch and a girl back home to surprise," He said with a skip to his step.

Sam watched him leave before muttering under his breath, "Damn soldier's gone soft."

The airport was packed with people. Long lines wrapped through the hallways. Bucky tried to push his way through. Tried to get an answer.

"What's going on?"

A stranger turned around, "They're delaying all the flights. Something about a security issue nearby."

Bucky found a group of people crowded around a television and squeezed in to get a better view. "President Ross reportedly transformed into what people are already calling 'Red Hulk' after massive White House meltdown." Footage flashed across the screen of what was indeed a cherry tomato colored Hulk surrounded by a burning white house.

The growl that erupted from the beast vibrated the speakers. Bucky's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he picked up the phone to call you.

You answered almost instantly, "Buck?" Your voice was weak with worry and it sounded like you were already expecting bad news.

"The flights are delayed, doll. Turn on the news," Bucky said.

"I've seen it," You replied softly.

"I don't know how long-" Bucky started but you cut him off. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just, get home safely. Please."

Bucky swallowed, "I will."

"I love you, James."

"I-" The line went dead. He quickly checked the phone to see what had happened. NO SERVICE.

Bucky was desperate to find a way back to you.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting his ass kicked by a giant blood clot. "Ross, listen to me. You know this place. You used to go here all the time with, Betty."

The creature that was once the president growled in his face.

"Alright, that didn't work."

Sam dove behind a car, narrowly avoiding another blow from the hell hulk. "You don't want to talk it out. Fine by me," Sam rolled away from the car just as the hulk smashed the gas tank.

The explosive vehicle flew towards the now Captain America, and with his improved vibranium wings from the Wakandan's he was able to slice the car in half.

His victory was short lived as the hulk grabbed him by the wing and ripped it off. Sam fell to his knees, feeling like he'd lost the war. At that moment, a spray of bullets bounced off of the angry monster's back. It turned around, focusing it's deep red eyes on the all too familiar Winter Soldier.

Sam was now an afterthought as the Red Hulk raced towards Bucky. The soldiers vibranium fist made a loud clank as it collided with the much larger one.

The high pitched whip of metal rang through the air and Sam's shield dug into the President's back. Bucky smiled like a proud father.

Together, Sam and Bucky were able to keep the hulk away from civilians and wear him out until backup arrived. But it was the memory of his daughter and the drive to be a better man that transformed his outer appearance as well.

Bucky was slouched against a police car as paramedics carried the President away. "What happened to the girl back home thing?" Sam walked over to him.

"Couldn't catch my flight. Besides, I figured you needed me more." Bucky said.

"Stop tryna butter me up," Sam shook his head. "I'll get you on a private jet, but you owe me."

Bucky extended his fist, starting off their handshake. "Take care, pal."

Sam finished it off, "Same time next week?"

You were curled up on the couch, exactly where Bucky had left you. It was Valentine's Day, and your husband was off to God knows where probably risking his life.

And the only thing you could do about it was sit here and wait. With a box of chocolates. And a few Ryan Gosling movies.

Then, you heard the rattling of a key in the door. It was so unexpected that you almost considered it had just been people that had come to take you away.

Bucky pushed the door open, dropping his heavy duffel bags and extending his arms to you. You quickly jumped up, chocolates flying, and ran over to him.

The contrast between being out in the cold and now being in your warm embrace was a shock to Bucky's system.

He smelled like ash and sweat, but underneath that he smelled like him.

"I thought-" Your eyes involuntarily began to tear up.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes with an intensity that made you blush, "I couldn't leave my best girl alone on Valentine's Day."

Your heart skipped a few beats and your face was permanently carved into a smile.

"Oh, almost forgot." He reaches into his pocket.

When he held out the palm of his hand, a silver chain with the letter B dangling from the end of it replaced the empty space.

"Bucky," you said, wiping away more tears to no avail. It was so much more than jewelry to you. It was proof that time after time, Bucky would find a way. That you were his priority and that would never change.

"It's beautiful."

He unclasped the necklace before gently turning you around to put it on you. "For the most beautiful girl," he said when he was done.

You turned around and kissed him, combing your hands through his hair. He looked into your eyes, feeling overwhelmed with joy.

"I've got something for you too," you smirked.

"You do?" He asked knowingly, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Mhm," you pulled him closer by his shirt. You were going to do more than just tell him how much you missed him.

[cheynovak]

Never Alone

Beau and Y/N have been friends since he moved to town. He liked her more than he admitted. And when she didn't answer her phone after he learned she lost a loved one, he got worried.

A small one shot story for my dear friend @jackles010378 just know that I'm here for you. 🤍

The knock at the back door was firm but hesitant, just like him. I barely registered it, my mind too clouded by grief, my body too heavy to move. The warmth of the fireplace flickered across my tear-streaked face, but I still felt so cold.

I didn't hear the door open, but I felt him before I saw him. The familiar scent of leather and cedar surrounded me as soft footfalls brought him closer.

"Aw, sweetheart," Beau murmured, his deep voice tinged with concern.

I couldn't look at him. My throat burned from crying, my chest tight with the weight of loss. But I didn't resist when he crouched beside me, his strong arms wrapping around me without hesitation.

I clung to his shirt like a lifeline, gripping the fabric with shaking fingers as he held me close. His body was warm, solid—safe. He smelled like the outside air, his cologne lingering beneath the scent of fresh coffee.

"Should've called me, Y/N," he said, his voice low, regretful. "Hate seein’ you like this."

I couldn't answer, just buried my face into his chest, fresh tears soaking into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His jacket was gone now, tossed aside so he could pull me in tighter.

His hand moved up and down my back in slow, steady strokes, grounding me. Every now and then, he pressed a kiss to my hair, murmuring something I couldn't quite make out—but it didn't matter. It was the comfort I needed, the silent promise that I wasn't alone.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours—I wasn't sure. But with each quiet moment, my breathing slowed, the shattering pain inside me dulling just enough.

Beau shifted slightly. "Sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. I didn’t lift my head, just kept staring at his chest, my vision blurred with fresh tears.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His knuckles skimmed my cheek, his fingers lingering just long enough to make me shiver. Then, his thumb moved, wiping away the tear that had slipped down my skin.

I finally looked up at him. His green eyes, usually so bright with mischief or that easy charm of his, were dark, serious. Searching. He was looking at me like I was something fragile, something he wanted to fix but didn’t know how.

For a second—just a second—I swore he leaned in. His breath was warm against my face, his lips parting just slightly. My heart stuttered, caught between grief and something else entirely.

Then, just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. Beau pulled back, clearing his throat, and reached behind him. The scent of something warm and familiar hit my nose.

"Figured you wouldn't eat," he said softly. "Brought your favorite."

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, his green eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. Worry? Affection? Something deeper?

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Beau."

His lips quirked in that soft half-smile he always gave me, but his eyes stayed serious. "Always, sweetheart."

And in that moment, with the fire crackling beside us and his arms still around me, I knew he meant it.

The silence between us wasn’t heavy—it was comforting. Beau sat beside me, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back as I forced myself to take small bites of the food he’d brought. I wasn’t hungry, not really, but I knew he wouldn’t leave until he saw me eat something.

He didn’t rush me, didn’t say a word. Just stayed close, letting me lean into his warmth.

I glanced at the clock. It was late. The kind of late that made the world feel quieter, softer. I hesitated before looking up at him, knowing I shouldn’t ask, but the words slipped out anyway.

"Beau, can you stay?"

He turned to me, his green eyes unreadable for a moment. Then, that slow, soft smile spread across his face, the one that always made my chest tighten.

"‘Course, darlin’," he murmured, his Texan drawl softer than usual. Then he pulled me in, wrapping me up in his warmth, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head.

And just like that, I melted.

I let myself sink into him, resting against his chest as his hand resumed its steady, soothing motions on my back. His heartbeat was strong, steady—a quiet reassurance that I wasn’t alone.

I closed my eyes, breathing him in. Knowing hum being here, with me was all I needed to get through this.

--

Taglist:

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @writtenbyhollywood @spnaquakindgdom

[cookiesama7]

Lightning in My veins (Barry Allen x reader)

Summary: When a mission goes sideways, reader is gravely injured. Barry, overwhelmed with fear, carries her back to S.T.A.R. Labs, refusing to let her slip away.

Word count: 861

Masterlist

Barry Allen Masterlist

Pain. It was all I could feel, searing through my body like fire. I barely registered the distant sounds of sirens, the flickering neon lights above me, or the way the world tilted violently as I tried to move.

But then there was a rush of wind, a blur of red and gold, and suddenly, warm arms scooped me up.

"(Y/N)!"

Barry's voice was frantic, filled with a desperation I'd never heard from him before. I tried to focus, tried to meet his eyes, but everything was getting blurry.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," he pleaded, his grip tightening around me as he cradled me against his chest. "You're gonna be okay, I promise."

I let out a weak laugh. "Barry... you make a lot of promises."

"And I keep them," he shot back, determination laced in every word.

The next thing I knew, we were moving—fast. The city lights blurred together, and the only thing anchoring me was the steady beat of Barry's heart beneath my cheek.

The pain was unbearable, but I wasn't scared. Not when he was holding me.

"Hang on, (Y/N)," Barry whispered, his voice breaking. "Just a little longer."

--

When the world finally steadied, I found myself in the med bay at S.T.A.R. Labs. Cisco and Caitlin were moving frantically around me, but my eyes were locked on one person—Barry.

He hovered over me, his hands gripping mine like they were the only thing keeping me grounded.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" Caitlin's voice was distant, drowned out by the buzzing in my head.

I blinked, struggling to stay conscious. "Yeah... but everything hurts."

Barry exhaled shakily, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "You're okay now," he whispered.

I could see the tension in his shoulders, the guilt in his eyes. He was blaming himself.

"Not... your fault," I murmured.

He shook his head. "You shouldn't have gotten hurt. I should've—"

"Barry." I squeezed his hand, weak but firm. "I made my choice. Just like you do, every day."

His eyes glistened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. But then he let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"You scared me," he admitted, voice raw.

I smiled softly. "I'm okay. Because of you."

Barry leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. "And I'm never letting anything happen to you again."

Even through the pain, I believed him.

--

The first thing I became aware of when I woke up was warmth.

Not the painful, burning kind that had been consuming my body, but something softer, steadier—comforting.

Then, I heard his voice.

"(Y/N)?"

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the med bay. Barry was right there, his hand wrapped around mine, his face lined with exhaustion.

I glanced around, noticing the darkened screens and the quiet hum of S.T.A.R. Labs at night. "How long...?"

"Almost 24 hours," he admitted, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "Caitlin said you just needed rest, but..." He swallowed hard. "I couldn't leave you."

My chest tightened.

"Barry—"

"You almost died, (Y/N)," he cuts in, his voice raw. "I had you in my arms, and for a second, I thought—" He stopped, inhaling sharply. "I can't go through that again."

I squeezed his hand, ignoring the dull ache in my limbs. "But you didn't lose me."

His jaw clenched. "I could have."

Silence hung between us, thick with unspoken words.

"You always risk your life," I said softly. "Every time you run into danger, I feel that same fear. But I never ask you to stop, because I know it's who you are. So don't ask me to stop either."

Barry looked at me, eyes searching mine like he was memorizing every detail of my face.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.

"You won't," I promised.

For a moment, he just sat there, staring at me like he was debating something. Then, before I could say another word, he leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine. His breath was warm against my skin, his grip on my hand tightening. "I can't keep pretending," he murmured.

My heart pounded. "Pretending what?"

"That you don't mean everything to me."

Time seemed to freeze. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Barry tilted his head just enough for his lips to brush against mine. It was barely a kiss—just the ghost of one—but it sent electricity through my veins, stronger than any bolt of lightning ever could.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine for hesitation. There was none. "I love you, (Y/N)," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A slow smile spread across my lips, despite the pain still lingering in my body. "Good," I murmured. "Because I love you too."

Barry let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding his features. Then, unable to stop himself, he kissed me again—deeper this time, like he had been holding it in for far too long.

And maybe he had. But none of that mattered now. Because in that moment, in his arms, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.

[gelly-fsh]

Pride

Pirate! AU, it's a bit angsty but it has HEA I promise (Just not on this part)

______

James should've have known falling in love with a pirate was a mistake.

There are many stories, passed by stories, by songs, by gossip, about how passionate a Pirate's love was.

The unique gifts, the great stories, the saccharine words, it is all true, James can admit that.

But in the end, Pirates will always love the Ocean more.

"The Emerald" Regulus whispered, his face a bit haunted "She is gone"

James could hear the absolute devastation in his voice as he announced this. James was already mourning with him for the lost ship, the oldest companion Regulus had.

"I planned to die with her" Regulus whispered, still haunted by visions James could not see "But Barty and Evan took me out against my wish"

James entire body went cold.

I planned to die with her

I

Planned

To die

With

Her

Something inside James broke at that moment, something delicate that was precariously hanging by a thread this last couple of months

Was it his love, was it his patience?

James didn't know, he just knew one thing at the moment.

James was tired.

"So it was a lie" James muttered, the numbing feeling was drowning him by the fingertips and slowly going up to the rest of his body, to try and hide the simmering burn of something deep inside him

"What?" Regulus exclaimed, visibly confused.

"You once told me you were doing all of this so we could, one day, grow old together and not worry about a thing" James said, and he could see the emotions that were passing by Regulus mind.

Worry. Realization. Fear.

Regret.

"You would rather die with your ship than to die with me" James muttered and he started to laugh histerically once the truth settled in "It was all a lie"

"No, James, please listen-"

"No. I have done enough listening with you" he spotted out venomously "I have waited for your return, year by year, hoping one day you would love me enough to stay, but that will never happen, right?"

"James, we were surrounded. I thought there was no chance for me-"

"But did you even try hard enough? Or even better, did you even try at all?"

"Did you thought, that I would have been here, foolishly waiting for you still, until one of your crew members took enough pity for me to come and tell me you were dead?"

"Better question, did you think about me at all?" James spitted out, the tears in his eyes felt like boiling lava, and every time he spoke, every time Regulus was unable to find his words, the reality of the situation sinked deeper and deeper in James' bruised heart

"This is my life James!"

"You and your dammed Pride!" James snarled

"I have never asked you to leave all behind, I've just asked you to be more careful! What don't you understand?"

"This is a dangerous life James, you can't expect-"

"Damn right I expect! I expected a lot if things!"

"I expected that you would want to take me with you, I expected to be able to see you more than a couple of times a year for more than a day or two, but most of all I expected you valued your life enough to want to come back"

"Regulus, I'm tired." James said, he felt the burning behind his eyelids, but he forced himself to not let fall a single drop, not yet. "I have loved you so much for so long, and even if I despise it, I will continue to do so, but I cannot live like this anymore"

"James, please don't do this to me. I love you so much my dear, you have to believe me" Regulus croaked out, his heart was in his throat, trying to crawl it's way out of his body so James would know it belonged to him, that it would always belong to him.

"Thats the thing Regulus" James said, his eyes filled with heartbreak "I don't believe you anymore"

James took a deep breath, trying to find the force to finish this conversation, to say goodbye to his one true love, the only one he would ever know "I hope you the best in your next adventure, Captain Black. May the God's guide you to the greatness you so fervently seek"

James can not see Regulus to the eye, he can't bear to see what he caused, but he knows it will be for the best. Even if Regulus would be heartbroken now, James knows he will move on. Regulus will find his next adventure, his next big prize, maybe even his next grand love, and James Potter will just end up like a speck in his great legacy, one of the many dumb fools that decided to fall in love with a pirate while knowing they would never hold a candle to the one thing a pirate valued more.

The first step back is the hardest one, but after that one, the next ones become a bit easier, even if all his body feels made out of lead

And for the first time, it was James who left first.

And for the first time, Captain Regulus Black really felt what it was to loose for now there was not a soul nor a heart insude his body, just an empty casket of blood and bones that screamed, begged to be filled again, only to be denied everytime. What made him whole dissapeared, and Regulus knew then and there.

He would never know happiness again.

~•~

[loverboy-havocboy]

Hello beloved! Could I please ask about:

exit wounds (during skye) - aliit au (*grabby hands for the pain??*🫣)

and/or if that's already been asked... I'm intrigued to know more about "one more push" 👀👀 ??? PWEaSE 🥹 tysm.

aaahh two!! tysm my dear 🥺💖 i think i'll do exit wounds here then reblog with the second since i tend to get wordy

exit wounds

this is the doc for expanding on comet's time with skye - specifically how it started and how his absence impacted boost and sinker. the title is a placebo song that's very comet/sinker when comet leaves them for skye. it's been really difficult to work on because i never want bad things to happen to them 🥺

what's in out of the ashes is very brief and i've also changed my mind about a key part - boost and sinker distrust skye from the very first day they meet him, which i no longer think serves the story. he's not some simple asshole, he's a master manipulator, and many abusers know how to charm not only their victims but also the people who would protect them - at least until they've got their claws into their victim.

i'm also changing the "reward" skye is holding over comet's head to get him to obey. currently it's the promise of being his collared sub, but it's going to be the promise of marriage and children - the things comet wanted with wooley, things that have always been incredibly important to him.

both of these things in the original diminish the relationship comet has with boost and sinker. they make it mean so much less than it does. he would never leave them to get a dom and if they said they didn't trust someone he would trust them.

comet/skye snippet:

“No, I'd love to move in with you!” Comet assures him quickly. “It’s just.. moving away from Boost and Sink - I don't know.”

“Well you didn't think you'd live with them forever,” Skye laughs - and he does it so easily, like it was so obvious they'd split up eventually, that Comet is suddenly too embarrassed to admit otherwise.

But, yeah.. he kind of did.

His embarrassment must show on his face, though, because Skye is still laughing. “Oh my god, you actually did, didn't you?”

Comet can feel his skin burning from the tips of his ears down to his neck. His defense comes weakly. “Yeah, a little, I guess. Please don't laugh at me, Skye.. They're my best friends. I just - I never really thought about it.”

boost/sinker snippet:

[context: i think sinker coped with losing comet by drinking heavily and he and boost fought about comet a lot - what they did, what they should've done, if they could've changed it. they've just had some such fight, but i haven't written that. also. boost's parents died in a car accident about 10 years ago with him in the car which is how he got his scars]

“I'm not talking about this with you,” Sinker slurs. He turns away, deciding to take a different way home. Let Boost stew in his shit mood on his own, he thinks.

What happens next happens so fast that Sinker can't really make sense of it.

There are several noises - the blaring of a horn, the squealing of tires, voices yelling - two of them - all of them too loud. Then the blinding lights and the hands yanking him backward so suddenly his vision spins.

“Sink- Sinker, I can't lose you, too!” Boost is shouting at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him hard. All he can do is freeze, eyes wide. “For fuck’s sake, I can't lose my whole fucking family! What is wrong with you?”

The anguish in Boost's voice, the fear in his eyes, it chills Sinker to the bone. Boost is.. Boost is angry with him. Really, really angry.

Both of them just stare at each other for a long moment before Boost’s gaze drops to his hands where they still grip Sinker hard enough to bruise. His eyes widen and he lets go like he's been burned.

“Sink..” he whispers, shaking his head subtly in disbelief. He swallows hard, looks down at his hands, then back up to Sinker's face with tears in his eyes. “I didn't- I'm so sorry. Did I-”

“I th- I think..” Sinker blinks a few times. “I think I need to throw up.”

“Yeah,” Boost agrees quietly, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “Yeah, I think you do.”

well 🥺👉👈 you wanted the pain 🥺 now take this. to feel better 🫂☕

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 20 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2235 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly. I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

✦ summary: After coming back to Los Angeles, Nore has to deal with Dave's reaction when he gets to know about Metallica's new album.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angry sex, (light) spanking, jealousy, angst

✦ a/n: I'm back! First of all, I would just like to say I'm really sorry it took me this long to post a new part. My life's been crazy busy and I was a bit burned out from writing, so I just had to take a break for a bit. But I took a few weeks to rest and now I'm ready to keep writing the story :) I hope you guys like this new chapter! The dynamics in Dave and Nore's relationship are starting to get a little more complicated, and we'll see how this plays out soon. Feedback is welcome! ❤

I rolled back into Los Angeles the next morning. Having a motorcycle as a birthday gift from my parents sure had its perks, like getting around town without suffering the rickety old buses. The ride from San Francisco to LA was a trek, and it got me thinking about those not-so-distant days when Cliff would cruise from San Francisco to Long Beach just to hang out with me.

Man, I was already starting to miss him.

Los Angeles was its usual chaotic self, just like I'd left it the day before. But coming back after my San Francisco escapade was a whole different deal. I couldn't help but wonder if the concert and everything that went down afterward had stirred up a whole lot more in me than I was ready to admit.

Dave wasn’t in when I got to our apartment, so I dropped my bag and the presents on the couch and hit the shower to unwind after that exhausting trip. As I was getting dressed, I heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door, letting me know he had just arrived home .

It was kind of unusual for him not to swing by and say hi right away, but it didn't take me long to figure out why. After I got dressed, I headed into the living room and there he was, looking at the new addition to my vinyl collection with a frown.

"Dave...?" I said, nervously. I wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to the sight of the new Metallica record. I probably should've thought about it before leaving it lying on the couch, but I was so beat from the trip that it didn't even cross my mind that he might not be thrilled with my gift.

He looked up at me, and I could tell he was torn between anguish and something tougher that made me swallow hard.

"I had no clue they dropped the album," he commented, expressionless. Somehow, his effort to act like it wasn't a big deal just seemed to make it worse, the tension in the room growing like a bubble about to burst.

"It was a gift," I mumbled softly. He snorted, arching an eyebrow, and I felt my face turn beet red. My voice wavered, "I didn't know they had released it either; they told me just recently. It's just that..."

"Did you know they used my music in this crap?" he growled. I blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Jump in the Fire? Metal Militia? Phantom Lord?" he snapped, shaking the vinyl's booklet in my direction, seeming on the verge of blowing a gasket. "I helped write all this shit. And they didn’t even credit me! I told them not to use my stuff. I fucking told them!" 

I opened my mouth in surprise, my heart clenching with anguish and anger. That was just wrong. Dave had confided in me how he'd asked the guys not to use any of his songs or solos. I didn't know what was worse, them ignoring his wishes or not even bothering to inform us.

"Dave, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this," I murmured, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. He looked at me, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"It's alright," he muttered, though his voice still carried a trace of annoyance. He wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling into the curve of my neck and giving me a tight hug. "It's okay. It's not your fault if they used you to get to me."

I furrowed my brow, my body tensing at his words. I pulled away slightly, locking eyes with him.

"Dave... I don't think that's what happened."

He arched an eyebrow at my words, and I pulled back slightly when I detected a flash of hurt in his eyes, though it quickly turned into a cold, almost icy expression. It was evident that he was hurt, but it wasn't just that; having his songs used without his permission had pushed him over the edge. He was seething with anger.

"You're being too naive," he said in a low, chilling voice I hadn't heard from him before. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race uncomfortably in my chest.

"Dave, it's Cliff. He wouldn't do that..."

"They used my fucking songs!" he snarled, his voice growing louder. I took a step back, and he exhaled deeply, now visibly angry. "You're fooling yourself. Do you think they're nice guys? They didn't care about me, so why would they care about you now?"

"It's not like that..."

"Of course, it's like that," he laughed, a bitter and painful laugh that made me flinch. "You don't realize, do you? They don't think I'm good enough, but you are! I bet Cliff would be thrilled if we broke up now. Have you ever thought about that?"

“But I don’t want to break up with you,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. This was going much, much worse than I had expected. Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly.

I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

"This isn't about what you want, it's about what you do! Why did you have to bring this here?" he shouted. His voice held more distress than anger, and it pained me. Beyond the pain of our argument, I couldn't bear to see him like this and know it was my fault. I could have avoided all of this if I hadn't been blinded by my own happiness in seeing my friends again, in seeing a glimpse of the happiness we used to have together. "Why do you have to keep hanging out with them? Don't I matter to you? Don't you care about me?"

"You're getting it all wrong," my voice quivered as I fought back my tears. "You can't say these things, Dave, you're hurting me!"

"Well, what about me? Can't you see you're hurting me too?"

"I thought I told you not to make me choose."

"I'm not making you choose! "

"Yes, you are! I asked you to trust me..."

"I do trust you, damn it! I love you!"

"Then act like you love me!" I shouted. I gasped in shock as he swiftly closed the distance between us, pulling me close to his body furiously, and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth with a fervor I'd never felt before. I moaned into his kiss, my legs going weak as I clung to his arms. His embrace tightened around my waist, his other hand gripping the base of my neck just enough to leave me breathless. 

"If you want me to prove that I love you, then I'm gonna prove it now," he growled, anger smoldering in his eyes like poison. I pulled him into another kiss, my body burning like wildfire as he undressed me and we stumbled towards the bedroom.

"Is this what you wanted all along?" I mumbled, my lingering frustration from our argument making me bolder as I hastily removed his shirt, his lips seeking mine in a desperate hunger. 

"Don't test me, Burton," he snarled. I let out a surprised gasp as he spun me around, firmly placing me on my knees at the edge of the bed. One of his arms held my waist, pressing my back against his chest, while the other hand gripped the nape of my neck, his lips and tongue aggressively exploring my soft skin.

“D… Dave…” I closed my eyes, a muffled moan escaping my lips as his hand on my waist moved down to the wetness between my legs, his fingers penetrating me without warning and curling inside me. He rumbled against my skin, holding me closer to him, his lips gliding up my neck until they reached my ear.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, a hint of concern evident in his voice despite his tension. I shook my head “no”, pressing myself against him, and he chuckled softly before pulling my waist tightly against his own, pushing my shoulder until I was on all fours on the bed. I moaned softly as he caressed my ass slowly before giving me a slap that made my skin crawl all over, pain and pleasure mixed together as tears gathered in my eyes. He grunted quietly, seeming pleased with my reaction. “Do you like that? Answer me. ”

“Y… Yeah… Ah! ” I flinched when he slapped me again, and he laughed. I felt my heart speed up when I heard him take off his pants and felt him climb onto the bed, his hands slowly caressing my waist.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his fingers penetrating me again and moving inside me. I moaned softly, my skin still tingling with the pain of his spanking, contrasting with the increasing pleasure that the movement of his fingers made me feel.

I moaned as he pressed his cock against me, my clenched fists gripping the bed sheet tightly as he entered me slowly. Dave let out a low moan, holding my waist tightly as he began to move. I closed my eyes, reduced to a mess of muffled moans as I felt him move, pushing deeper and deeper, making my whole body shake with pleasure. Right then, I knew he was taking out all his frustration and anger on me — and I loved every second of it.

"You're mine," he rumbled, his voice low. He drew me in closer, guiding me up again as he pressed my back against his chest, still holding my waist with one hand as he thrust faster and faster inside me, his lips eagerly seeking mine. I moaned into his kiss when his tongue invaded my mouth, taking one of my hands to my clit, massaging it in circles while burying my other hand in his hair. He brought his other hand up to my face, pulling away slightly and tracing the outline of my lip with his thumb as he looked into my eyes, his lips parted and his eyes out of focus as he lost himself in pleasure. “You’re mine,” he murmured, feverishly, his hips moving faster and faster, hitting all the sweetest spots inside me. I shuddered, moaning loudly as I felt my body contract, our peaks approaching together. “You’re mine, Nore. Mine.”

“Ah… D-Dave!” I closed my eyes, letting him press me against his body as my orgasm swept through me in a shock wave that made me contract all over. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he came with me, his movements becoming sloppy as his seed filled me.

I sighed, shakily, as he pulled out of me. I laid face down on the bed, letting out a groan into the pillow. He gently pushed my hair aside, planting a soft kiss on my shoulder before settling down beside me.

"Is everything alright?" he inquired in a hushed tone while his fingers gently traced my cheek. I opened my eyes and gazed into his concerned expression, mustering a faint smile.

"Everything's fine," I mumbled, reaching my hand up to his face. He furrowed his brows, suddenly recoiling as he seized my wrist.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice tensing, his eyes locking onto my knuckles. I blinked in surprise. In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten momentarily that my hand was still a little swollen, the skin turning a soft shade of purple as the bruises from the previous day's punch began to appear.

"It wasn't a big deal, Dave," I said, and he gave me an incredulous look. I blinked, feeling my face flush. "Just some jerk who tried to hassle me after the gig yesterday. So, I gave him a punch."

"You did what?" he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. I chuckled softly, but Dave frowned, concerned, as if he didn't quite buy my reaction. "Nore, this is serious! Did he do something to you?"

"Dave, it's alright... Cliff helped me." I stretched the truth a bit. I didn't want to bring up James' help, not after Dave and I had our spat about the album. Especially not after recalling last night in the kitchen and the way James had held my hand, his eyes locking onto mine for just a fleeting moment before Leanne and Cliff interrupted us.

“You go out solo once, and this is what happens?” Dave grumbled, and I chuckled as I cradled his face in my hands. He sighed before drawing me nearer, planting a slow kiss on my lips. I sighed happily, feeling myself melt into the warmth of his kiss as I nestled in his embrace. He pulled back, gently gripping my chin. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you.”

"It's okay, Dave," I murmured, softly. "But you've got to trust me. I'm with you because I love you." 

"I know. I'm sorry," he replied, his voice gentle, burying his face in my chest and pulling me into a tight hug. "You're mine," he whispered, his arms embracing me as if he needed to reassure himself that what he said was true. "Everything's alright. You're mine."

[vault81]

Jack Cooke's Travel Log: Grayditch - 22/08/2277

(prev) (next) (master)

"Oh hey! It's finally working again! I knew a little percussive maintenance would fix 'ya It's been a few days since my last entry, so I've got a lot to fill you in on!"

"Firstly, I was able to get that landmine back to Moira! You should've seen the look on her face! I've never seen anyone so excited to handle a mine before. She practically snatched that thing out of my hands and started stripping it down, eventually she handed it back to me in the form of a lunch box... Apparently it's called a "Bottlecap Mine" 'supposed to pack more of a punch than 'ya average fragmentation mine, It's a nifty 'lil gadget I have to admit! She even gave me the plans to make my own!"

"After that, she wanted me to test out a new invention of hers. It's supposed to repel mole rats! I don't even want to know how she made that thing, it fucking glows green and smells like ozone or ammonia… I'm not even sure it was safe for humans, let alone mole rats! She pointed me towards some sewers in D.C to test this thing out… That was before I got side-tracked by some kid…"

"I was down by the Super-Duper-Mart when he came sprinting 'outta nowhere like a bat out of hell! Poor thing was shaking like a leaf, could hardly catch his breath, kept raving about 'monsters'. I was able to get him to sit down, have some water and calm down. Said his name was 'Brian Wilks' and that he came from a nearby settlement called Grayditch, that it was under attack from these 'monsters' and that he needs help saving his dad.. This kid and I.. we're in the same boat.. It was tugging at my heart-strings just to see that… I mean, what kinda heartless bastard would I be if I said no? So 'course I agreed to help! 'Don't worry, I'm strong! I'll save your dad!' I still can't believe I said that, but it seemed to calm him down enough at the time.."

"It didn't take us that long to get to Grayditch, you could see the smoke from miles away, and that smell.. God, that fucking smell.. I can't even begin to describe it.. I know what death smells like, what decay smells like. I'm kinda used to it now, I'm ashamed to admit.. But nothing prepares you for what burning corpses smell like.. And for a fucking kid to witness that? That poor fucking kid..."

"Giant fire-breathing ants, that was not what I expected when I went deeper into the settlement. At worse, I thought maybe those 'Super Mutant's since we're close to D.C.. That was just plain fucked up.. But it also made no sense? I'd encountered Giant Ant's before and none of them spat fire... I didn't like it.. Something about it wasn't natural.."

"I managed to find Brian's father in an old town house.. What was probably their home.. Ya'know, I've seen some messed up things in my few days being on the surface, but... that was probably the worst.. He was slumped up against some wall, just.. Blackened and charred, his eye's had melted so it was just hollow sockets staring back at me.. I couldn't stay in the house after that. I felt dizzy, my ears were ringing something awful.. Never felt so nauseous in my life.. I managed to get back into the house and cover the body with an old sheet, I don't want Brian to stumble across that, he's been through enough. It's got me thinking though.. Is this how I'm going to find my father? Dead in some ruin? Savaged by some wasteland creature? He's a vault-dweller like me! He has no idea how to survive out here! I mean, what're the odds that he made it to Megaton? Hell, that he even made it down the hill from the Vault? Ever since I saw that, I couldn't stop thinking about it.. Am I ever going to find him alive again? But uhh- I think what's worse is not knowing, so I'll keep going.. For now.. And just hope I don't end up like the Wilks..."

"Brian took the news well, as well as anyone can, let alone a kid. I wish I could just let him mourn.. But I also had to learn more about the ants, make sure this doesn't happen any place else. Of course, had no idea where they came from, but he pointed me toward a shack his father built instead. It was owned by a scientist that recently moved into the town, a 'Doctor Lesko' according to his terminal, he wanted to shrink the ants back down to their smaller size and had set up a lab inside the nearby metro station. So, I decided to check on the laboratory, maybe see if the doc was still alive and if he wasn't, maybe put down the ant colony's queen."

"Honestly? A part of me wishes that I didn't go down there. I managed to find Doctor Lesko.. He was in his lab, not expecting any visitors. I confronted him on what happened to Grayditch.. His response made my fucking blood boil.. He didn't care what happened to the town, 'necessary sacrifices' to further his own research! As far as he's concerned, he isn't responsible for what happened, nor does he feel any remorse. What a fucking bastard! An entire town wiped out because of his incompetence, a child is now fatherless because of it, not to mention the trauma he has to live with now! I was so close to putting a bullet in him, hell, I fucking should've. Instead, I decided to 'help' with his experiment by clearing the way to the ant queen so he could adjust the mutagen he has using. I won't lie, I was tempted to kill the ant queen, ruin his experiment and make this can't happen to another settlement. But I didn't, I bit my tongue and did what he asked... The prick wanted to 'reward' me for my work, I told him he can fucking sit and swivel on it and left."

"Which leads me to now, I can't have Brian staying on his own, it's too dangerous. I'm walking him back to Megaton, he can stay with Moira for a bit while I track down his aunt in a place called 'Rivet City', I'll ask around for its location when I'm back in town.."

[anticomedygarden]

Our crowning glory

-

He got down on one knee/But I said "No way!"

When Catherine sang, she didn't see him. She saw herself as a young woman, fresh out of Durham House and hurling into the arms of Henry VIII.

Packed my bags/And moved into a Nu-nu-nunnery!

She should have known right then and there that her new husband wouldn't, couldn't, love her the way he should've. She should've known right then and there that the convent would've been kinder to her than the castle.

Joined the gospel choir/Our riffs were on fire

When she sang, she gave herself something new, something she deserved. She never wanted a divorce. She only wanted to live in a way worthy of her station and to raise her daughter well.

At the top of the charts/Is where I'm gonna stay

When she sang, she sang for salvation.

-

Henry sent me a poem/All about my green sleeves

When Anne sang, the guilt and heartache washed off her in waves. She stopped seeing her own head in a basket and felt hope take its place, bright and burning in her heart.

I changed a couple words/Put it on a sick beat

She wished she could give her younger self the knowledge she had now, that a life with Henry, however brief, would not make her happy. She only hoped that her daughter learned that before she did.

The song blew their minds/Next minute I was signed

When she sang, she gave herself a do over, separate from her past mistakes. She denied Henry a place in her heart and instead took her life in her own hands.

And now I'm writing lyrics/For Shakesy P

When she sang, she sang for freedom.

-

Since my first son/Our family's grown

When Jane sang, she saw her infant son, tiny and screaming in her arms. Her son, who she only got to know for 12 days before her death.

We made a band/And got quite well known

She reached out a hand to cup his chin, suddenly seeing her little baby as a young man. She savored that face, the one sitting under nearly 3 pounds of sparkling gems. This was what she had wanted with Henry, and this was what she had been denied.

You could perhaps call us/The Tudor Von Trapps

When she sang, she gave herself a family and the strength to know that she was the best she could have been. No matter when she died, she did her damn best, and she couldn’t ask anything more of herself. 

I'm just kidding/We're called the Royalling Stones

When she sang, she sang for the life she should've had.

-

What a shame/Yeah, my face/It cost me the crown

When Anna sang, she saw that stupid portrait, the one responsible for her life trajectory since that idiot king looked at it and saw a pretty, docile young girl. Sure, it made her look beautiful, but what good was beauty in this world?

So I moved to the/Haus Of Holbein!/In my hometown

In her mind's eye, she slashed through the pretty canvas with her finger nails and turned to Henry, pointer finger accusatory and dripping malice. She never should have gotten on that boat to England, and she probably wouldn’t have if she’d been given the choice to not. 

His mates were super arty/But I showed them how to party

When she sang, she put herself right back in Germany where she wanted to be all along. She would never deny that her life post crown was fabulous and resplendent, but she didn't need that. She needed passion, and something to care about, though that palace in Richmond was pretty damn great.

Now on my tour of Prussia/Everybody "Gets down"

When she sang, she sang for independence.

-

Music man tried it on/And I was like "Bye!"

When Katherine sang, she saw her 12 year old self, eyes still big and naive to the ways of the world. Even now, she was sad to admit those same eyes were drawn to the abject beauty of that child, the beauty that would cause her immense grief before her 20th birthday.

So I thought "Who needs him?/I can give it a try"

Now, she raged against the adults that had allowed that little girl to be abused so horribly for so long and then told her it was her own fault. She screamed and cried and tried to live her life on her own terms now that she had that choice.

I learned everything

When she sang, she stopped the grief before it could start. She may not have been able to change her own past, but she could damn well give that little girl something to live for.

Now all I do is sing/And I'll do that until I die

When she sang, she sang for the little girl she should've been.

-

Heard all about these rockin' chicks

When Catherine sang, she saw herself at the altar of all four of her husbands, and she felt the combined dread of each day she was forced to be tied to men who didn't deserve her.

Loved every song/And each remix

She was a published author, for god's sake, but a young, eligible woman such as herself couldn't exist for long without being snatched up by inferior men with more power than her lest she be cast from society.

So I went out and found them/And we laid down an album

When she sang, she gave herself the dignity and independence she earned through hard work. All she ever wanted was to write and maybe make life easier for the women who came after her because no one should have to go through what she and the other five queens went through.

Now "I don't need your love"/All I need is SIX!

When she sang, she sang for the love of herself.

-

also on ao3

[vampirecatboy]

here ya go!

Barracuda chapter 2/9

~3k words, fic is rated Explicit, but this chapter is closer to Mature

read on ao3 here, or click the read more

Althea managed to get Aja and the rest of the crew to the station in time to board their red eye train. She had been worried about a crowd of fans or paparazzi, but those worries turned out to be unfounded. The station only boasted a few tired employees, a cop falling asleep where he stood, and half a dozen catatonic people waiting to board like them.

They didn't have to wait long for the train. It pulled into the station, and Aja and his entourage boarded with varying levels of energy and enthusiasm.

"I want to bunk with Kory," Aja said upon arriving in the corridor of the sleeper car.

Kory could feel a headache coming on.

"Why," he said flatly.

"Because you're my guppy!" Aja said in a very babyish tone of voice, slinging an arm around him.

Kory felt the vein popping out of his forehead.

"Althea, you can't let this happen—"

"I'll need my coffee first thing in the morning," Aja jumped in, "and Kory is the only one of you who knows my exact order."

Althea looked between them, all steel gray cords of hair, and dark, flawless skin, eyes telling nothing of what she was thinking.

"Sorry, honey," she said to Kory, "he pays me. If he wants you there to get his coffee, I'm not going to argue."

"Okay, Mathok," Kory turned to the goliath head of Aja's security team, "this has to go against some kind of security protocol. I can't—"

"Now you're just hurting my feelings," Aja pouted.

"Mathok, please."

The large man was hunched slightly, head just brushing the ceiling of the car.

"Mathok, I want him with me," Aja said shortly.

Kory wasn't good at pleading eyes, but he tried his hardest to broadcast just how badly he didn't want to bunk with Aja.

No dice.

"My hands are tied, kid," he said, city accent thick and coarse like bad polenta. "He wants you there, he won't shut up if you're not."

Aja beamed, an infuriating sight, and tugged Kory and his bag into their cabin.

When faced with bunk beds, perhaps Kory should've expected some sort of innuendo, but he had let his guard down, or perhaps he was too pissy to keep it up.

"I'm usually on top," Aja said with a wry look, "but I'll give it to you if you're up for a little cowgirl."

Kory's cheeks burned, a truly awful companion to the pain in his temples.

"I'm getting into my pajamas," Kory said, setting his duffle on the bottom bunk and pulling out a t-shirt and flannel pants.

"Great idea!" Kory turned just as Aja pulled his shirt over his head, and turned back as soon as his hands went to his zipper.

Grumbling, face hot, temples throbbing, Kory shut himself into the bathroom, Aja's teasing, "Don't be such a pussy," trailing behind him. He changed into his sleep clothes in silence, making sure to give Aja plenty of time to undress and redress, but of course when he came back out he was met with a very shirtless rock star leaning against the wall, wearing nothing but—

Gray sweatpants.

Joggers, specifically, but the tightness of the pants only made Kory feel more trapped. He looked, of course he looked, gray sweatpants on people with dicks had a certain reputation, and maybe he was still a little horny after he so vividly imagined sucking this man's dick.

Kory saw the line of it, not fully, but the vague shape was there. He willfully dragged his eyes from Aja's groin to his stupid, smug face.

"See something you like?"

"Why."

Aja sauntered over to the bottom bunk, tossed Kory's duffle on the floor, and lounged seductively on the bed.

"I run hot," he said, finger tracing the lines on his chest, like cracks in a sea of hardening lava. The motion also drew attention to the golden barbells in his nipples. Everything about him was expensive and ostentatious.

"You're wearing sweatpants."

"These are for your sake," he said, like it should've been obvious. "Would you rather I wore my shorts?"

As much as Kory hated to admit it, that would be so much worse.

"No," he groaned.

"Thought so," he smirked. "Now that this sleepover is officially underway, how about a pillow fight? Maybe a little spin the bottle?"

"I want to sleep," Kory said tersely, climbing up to the top bunk and crawling under the covers.

"How about truth or dare?" He sounded so excited. Gods, couldn't he take the hint? "Tell me about your first kiss."

"Turn off the light," Kory said. "And that's not how the game works. I have to pick truth or dare before you start grilling me."

Aja sighed and got the light. Kory heard him settle back in bed a moment later.

"Truth or dare?" Aja asked.

Kory feared what might come up if he participated, but he knew Aja wouldn't let it go until he did.

"Truth," he said.

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

"Pass."

"Okay… how about your first time?"

"That's worse. Pass."

"Why do you hate me?"

"If I listed all the reasons, you'd be asleep before I finished."

Aja sighed dramatically.

"Fine," Kory snapped half-heartedly. "I was fourteen when I had my first kiss."

"Boy? Girl? Other?"

"Girl, and that's all you're getting out of me," he said.

Aja hummed, pleased, and said, "Your turn."

Kory didn't like that he was trapped in this now, but he had an idea.

"Truth or dare," he said.

"Dare." How unsurprising.

"I dare you to go to sleep."

There was a long stretch of silence.

"You're not taking this seriously," Aja said, sounding disappointed. "I'll change my choice to truth. Ask me anything."

"Fine," Kory sighed. What was he supposed to ask? He didn't want to hear about Aja's first kiss, or first time, or anything remotely romantic or sexual for that matter. He wasn't interested in learning those things about Aja, the thought alone had his stomach twisting itself into knots. "Do you have any siblings?"

Aja was silent again.

"I have an older sister," he said, tone suddenly more serious.

This came as news to Kory. Aja never talked about a sister, or anyone in his family for that matter.

"That's surprising," Kory said carefully, sensitive to Aja's sudden change in demeanor. "You've always given off only child vibes."

Aja laughed weakly, "Yeah, I'm actually a younger sibling."

"That fits too, I guess." Kory paused. "I've never heard you talk about her."

"I haven't seen her for months, certainly not since you started working for me," he said. "We've texted, but I haven't heard her voice for a while. I've been too busy, I haven't had the chance to call, or stop home."

Kory didn't say anything. Aja was sharing something personal, and this wasn't the time for any snark.

"I honestly could use it," Aja continued, "she always calls me on my bullshit, smacks me upside the head if I get too full of myself."

"Sounds like I'd like her."

"You would," Aja chuckled. "I think she'd like you too."

Kory chewed his lip.

"What's her name?"

"Preeti."

"Pretty."

Aja laughed, more genuinely this time. "You sound like every white guy who's tried to hit on her."

"Is she… like you?"

"Like me how?"

"Genasi."

"No," he said. "She's as human as human gets. I really stand out in our family photos. Black hair, brown skin, black eyes, then there's me, red-tinted and on fire."

"Did that ever bother you?" Kory asked.

"A little, I guess," Aja answered. "I didn't pay much attention to it, if I'm being honest. I was getting a lot of attention, and I really like that."

"So you've always liked being the center of attention?" Kory said, half-joking.

"Yeah," Aja laughed.

"Do you miss her?" Kory asked.

Aja was silent.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Kory had definitely brought the mood back down. He hadn't even meant to. To his own surprise, he was enjoying this conversation, learning about the real Aja. He didn't like how quiet he was being, it was clearly a sign of distress. He had to try to get him back to his usual cocky self.

He sighed. He had an idea, but he didn't like it.

"Do you want to hear about my first time?" he asked hesitantly.

"If you're up to share," Aja said.

"Well, I was seventeen, he was a year ahead of me in school," Kory said. "We were kind of together, I guess. He was getting ready to graduate and didn't want to go to college as a virgin, so he convinced me to have sex with him. It wasn't like, coercion or anything, I wanted to, too, I just needed an extra push.

"So one night, I think it was after prom, we went back to his place, and gods this is going to get embarrassing." He sighed. "It was over really, really fast, like embarrassingly fast. He cried—"

Aja stifled a laugh.

"I had to finish myself off," Kory said. "He was too embarrassed and distraught. It was three in the morning but I went home. We didn't last to the end of the school year."

Aja chuckled.

"My first time was actually great," he said.

Kory rolled his eyes. So much for the nicer version of Aja.

"I lasted a full three minutes," he proudly declared.

That startled a laugh out of Kory, loud, short, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from cracking up.

Aja laughed too, amused with himself.

"You really thought I was bragging," he joked. "No one's first time ever meets their expectations. It's always so lame and disappointing."

"Shut up," Kory said, with very little bite.

There was another moment of silence, mood markedly lighter this time.

"Can I ask you something?" Aja asked.

Kory's heart leapt into his throat.

"Sure," he said hesitantly.

"Why do you hate me?"

What an awful question. What an awful time to bring that up. There were countless reasons, and listing any of them would surely bring the mood down again. Furthermore, only one reason came to mind in that moment.

Because you're never like this. You're never this down-to-earth.

He couldn't say that. It was too vulnerable, too telling.

Kory sighed, and said, "Go to sleep, Aja."

He expected Aja to argue, but after a stretch of silence, all he said was, "Good night, Kory."

Kory mumbled a "good night" back, and slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

.

.

.

There was a warm presence at his back, an insistent hardness pressing against him, teeth and lips nibbling at the delicate webbing of his ear. Lips trailed down his neck, gentle kisses to his sensitive gills. There were hands rubbing his chest, sliding down his sides, gripping his waist. One of them rubbed at his cock, sending hot, tingling throbs through his entire body. A weight pressed against his back, bending him forward. He felt the cock enter him, stretching him. His breath came out in short gasps, small noises left him, they sounded far away, muffled. A familiar voice, clear as day, whispered in his ear—

"That's my guppy."

.

.

.

Kory woke with a start, his cock still throbbing in his pants. He could hear Aja's slow, even breathing below him. Of course he had a sex dream while sharing a room with Aja. It was already fading, but he knew the gist. It had been vague and swimming, but it had been clear who the subject was.

Early morning light was peeking through the tinted window of their cabin. When Kory climbed down and checked the time, it was nearly seven in the morning. They had about an hour before they would arrive in Landsholm. He didn't want to wake Aja, still splayed out on his stomach, drooling on his pillow, but he would have to soon. Might as well do it with his typical morning drink.

He dressed, not bothering to do it in the bathroom. It was small and cramped, and Aja was fast asleep. That was all the privacy he needed.

Once he was dressed, pajamas packed away in his duffle, he turned back to Aja. He looked so peaceful, but he had deprived Kory of sleep before, so he didn't feel much guilt when he grabbed Aja's shoulder and shook him awake.

"Psst, Aja," he whispered.

Aja groaned, and pushed his hand away, eyes still closed.

"We're almost in Landsholm, you need to get up and get dressed," he said a bit louder.

Aja's eyes opened just a crack, their flickering yellow glow bright in the low light of the rising sun.

"Do you want some coffee?" Kory asked.

"Chai latte," Aja mumbled, slowly lifting his head and propping himself up on his elbows.

"Get dressed while I'm gone," he said, moving toward the door. "I'll be back soon. There can't be many people in the dining car at this hour."

"What time is it?" Aja yawned, sitting up.

"About five of seven," he said.

Aja wrinkled his nose.

"Get dressed," Kory said more insistently, and left the cabin.

He moved through the corridors toward the dining car, only the gentle chugging of the train moving over the tracks as background noise. The dining car was farther than he expected, but he didn't mind a little early morning walk.

No one else was up, he didn't pass anyone, but even so, when he got to the dining car, there was a line of tired individuals waiting to order their caffeine fixes. Kory shuffled into line, pulling out payment and his phone. It was blinking with a notification for a new message.

From Aja, with a photo attached. This couldn't be good. He was probably fine, unless he had managed to get tangled in one of his strappy leather harnesses. Why he would wear that outside of a performance—

No. He would. Ever the attention whore.

Kory opened the message, "Thoughts on this top?"

He grit his teeth, and let out a breath.

It was Aja, shirtless, holding a billowy black shirt, straight out of a gothic romance, or perhaps a pirate tale.

If it had been anyone else, Kory would've responded with something cute like, "He looks pretty good as is," but this was Aja, and that was flirting, and Kory wouldn't do that with him.

He sent back a thumbs-up emoji and nothing else, stared at the photo a moment longer, then stowed his phone in his pocket.

The barista blinked tiredly at him and sleepily slurred, "What can I get you?"

"I'll take a can of that cold brew," he said, "and do you do chai lattes?"

The poor barista looked like her soul had just left her body.

"What size?" she sighed.

"Uh, medium please." Aja typically requested a large when he remembered to specify, but he never finished larges. The medium looked like enough.

The barista, whose name tag read "Quinn," pulled a can of cold brew from the fridge behind her, and plunked it down on the counter, then moved to make Aja's latte. She moved slow. The poor thing had probably been up for hours already. Kory pulled a ten dollar bill from his wallet and stuffed it in the tip jar. She caught him as he was doing it, and her shoulders relaxed just slightly.

"Here you are," she said, placing the latte next to his cold brew. "That'll be sixteen forty-nine."

Kory tapped his card on the reader and smiled at her, "Have a good rest of your day," he said.

She smiled tiredly back, "You too."

Drinks in hand, Kory started making his way back. The sun had fully emerged from behind the horizon, and bathed the cars in soft yellow light. He ran into one or two freshly awake passengers, but the corridor was wide enough to accommodate both them and Kory.

When he finally reached his and Aja's cabin, he heard voices from inside. Althea and Mathok no doubt. It would be quite the squeeze with all of them in there. Oh well, Kory was small, he could fit.

"—with fans when we get there," Althea was saying as Kory entered.

Aja made grabby hands at Kory once he saw him. Kory held his tongue and handed him his latte.

"Kory, I was just telling Aja, we have a glamour for him when we arrive," Althea said. "We don't want to be swarmed with fans."

"Got it," he replied.

"They're going to make me look like an elf," Aja smiled, holding his latte to his mouth with both hands.

Something that hadn't been conveyed in the picture he sent Kory, was the sheer amount of plunge in his plunging neckline. The shirt was loose and flowy, tucked into his tight black pants, and the plunge went down almost to the waistband of those pants. Kory felt wildly underdressed in his t-shirt and jeans.

"How long will the glamour last?" Kory asked.

"As long as he wears this pendant," Althea said, holding up a wire-wrapped clear crystal on a velvet cord.

"That's new."

"A girl on the security team has a gift for spellcraft," Mathok said. "Tested it myself first, of course, and it'll work for Aja as well."

"What time is it?" Aja asked. "Do we know how much longer until we arrive?"

"It's—"

"Next stop, Landsholm, ETA eight minutes," came the answer over the train's PA system.

"That's awfully specific," Aja remarked.

"Get your bags everyone," Althea said, already shifting into manager mode. "I'll collect the rest of the team and we'll meet in the corridor, got it?"

Kory hadn't even opened his cold brew yet, he might end up having to save it for later, maybe when they got to the hotel. It would be room temperature by then but he didn't really care about that.

He looked at Aja, still sipping his latte, then nodded at Althea, "Got it."

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 22 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

Simon and I went for another run after our late breakfast, although we didn't go very far before deciding walking was just fine.

My legs burned from just a short run and Simon admitted his hip would occasionally tweak itself if he overexerted himself.

Instead, we took a stroll along with one of the small rivers running through the forest, talking about Sam and Xavier most of the time.

Simon guessed they'd be officially together within a month, while I found that hard to believe.

Xavier was as awkward as I was with dating, I couldn't remember the last time he even attempted to date but I had to admit that Simon was right in seeing how they matched their energy together.

Chaotic for sure but still surprisingly balanced in some way.

Walking in the woods with Simon was cathartic, from talking about the important things about our bond to the little things like our favorite movies.

Any worrisome thought seemed to shed off our shoulders, floating like a stray leaf in the wind but it did also give me time to think about things I hadn't been able to give much thought to before.

Things like our future, our bond between our wolves and everything in between and yet, it didn't feel right to bring it up while enjoying a nice walk in the woods, especially when it meant putting a lot of trust in my wolf, trust that, not long ago, I feared I'd never have.

As I should've expected, Simon was a master at figuring me out.

"Something was on your mind during our run," he said to me as we reached our room.

"Is everything alright?"

I nodded, almost laughing at how easy it was for him to read me.

"I've been thinking about something and wanted to tell you as soon as possible."

"What is it?"

Simon tilted his head, furrowing his brows in concern.

He interlaced our hands and led me to the bed.

"I'd like to let my wolf out," I said softly, enunciating each word as slowly as I sat down.

"In our human forms, first."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded.

"It's only fair."

"Vince."

His eyes searched mine.

"You don't need to so soon."

"I want to," I reassured him.

"I know that prolonging this will only make my wolf antsier and it's only fair that I let him see you and your wolf. I trust him enough to allow this and I don't want my fears holding him, you or myself down."

He took a deep breath in and out.

"Only if you are certain and like I said if you'd like for someone else to be here in case of anything happening..."

"I trust him," I said firmly.

I had to, even if there were still some reservations, I couldn't think of holding this off.

"And I trust you. I know he won't hurt you."

Simon squeezed my hands.

"If you change your mind, I won't be upset."

"I'm sure."

I smiled.

"Even if it's for a little while, I'd like to let him out."

"Okay."

He nodded.

"I'll be sure to tell him what I told you."

I raised a brow.

"Which bit?"

"That I love you and that I love him too."

My cheeks flushed.

"And, I won't let mine out until you're fully ready either. He'll just need to learn some patience," he mused.

"Something I think me and him could both use."

I chuckled.

"You're already extremely patient."

He shrugged.

"Sure, if you say so."

I pressed my forehead to his.

"You're the most patient for putting up with me all these years."

"Yeah, well, I don't think I'm as patient as I used to be."

"Nonsense."

I leant back to stare into his eyes.

His pupils dilated as I let the familiar shade of brown ground me, calming the nerves I could feel building inside again.

There shouldn't be anything worrying about setting my wolf free to interact with Simon but it was a fear that was impossible to shake off, especially when I've let that fester and grow for years.

Our wolves didn't harm our mates, it wasn't what they do.

Even in the case of Arthur, my father was the one who had hurt him, not his wolf.

Chase had told me that my fear of my wolf and uncertainty of what the suppressants had done was a fear.

It wasn't true, wasn't fact, my wolf would never aim to hurt my mate but years of suppressing him had led me to believe that my wolf would've hated me and therefore wished to hurt me in the worst possible way by attempting to harm my mate.

It was foolish looking back on it but the effects of such negative thinking had done irrefutable damage and after hearing Simon say the word love, it was like an ice-pick chipping the hardened armor I had built for myself.

Simon smiled.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded, taking a tentative seat beside him on the bed.

"It might take me a while to get there but yes, yes, I am."

"Take all the time you need," he said.

"I'll be right here."

I took a few moments to collect my breathing, getting in tune with my wolf's emotions and letting our connection increase.

It was easier than before, as his desire to see our mate for himself grew by the second.

'Mate'.

'Yes,' I mused.

'Let's take this slowly.'

He whined at that but remained calm, patiently waiting for me to collect my thoughts.

Last time it had felt like I was drowning, fading into a dark bottomless lake of my consciousness, free falling into a pit of despair but this time, it was the complete opposite.

It wasn't dark or felt like being swallowed whole.

Despite my wolf surging forward, I didn't feel entirely out of control anymore.

I still could feel, see and hear everything, I felt more in tune with everything around me now than before.

The shift was still gradual, a culmination of pushing and pulling between my wolf and me as we slowly got used to the idea of being on opposite sides.

Still hesitant but confident nonetheless as Simon patiently waited beside us.

My wolf's strength would never be as it was before the suppressants but our connection felt stronger than that time, our thoughts and feelings meshing beautifully together.

I almost felt calmer and relaxed, with him slowly presenting himself than when I first suggested the idea and even as the lingering guilt I harbored for postponing this for years was my wolf soothing my worries.

'Love mate,' he said, whining in excitement.

Simon pulled our hands in his, gently squeezing them in reassurance.

I knew that I was still holding on, still warily keeping my foot in the door but I knew I had to let go if I were to give my wolf full control.

'I'll be good,' my wolf said.

'Promise.'

'I know. I know you will.'

"I've got you," Simon said, his voice quieter now that my wolf was pushing forward.

I nodded or instead, my wolf did for me, the movement feeling more sluggish than usual as I kept my eyes on Simon's.

'We got you,' a distant voice said.

It was faint, not in Simon's mind link, nor was it my wolf's voice.

It took me a couple of seconds to recognize the calming voice that belonged to Simon's wolf.

It stirred my wolf, not in a frenzy or rushed to surge forward but it washed over the both of us in a way that made us feel relaxed and confident about this step forward and with lowering my guards down, I removed my foot from the metaphorical door, letting my wolf fully present himself.

[bi-bard]

As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 2,608 words

Warning(s): touch aversion, mentions of nightmares/past trauma

Author's Note: Here's a cute little fact: I write for a lot of Taylor Swift and Hozier and dodie and stuff, but As It Is is my favorite band of all time. I hold their music very close to my heart. I could spend hours talking about how much I love their music.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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

The Handwritten Letter

I need you when I'm bruised and broken It's all that keeps me here and hoping I'm tangled in your mind unwoven I need you when I'm bruised I need you when I'm broken

Ka would never accept that someone helped him for the sake of helping him. In his eyes, everyone had another agenda of some kind. Money, power, take your pick. That belief always made him cold and distant. I had long accepted that he would never admit to having someone around merely for the sake of having them around.

That would be a liability. He would never risk giving his enemies such an easy way to have power over him.

Maybe "never" was a strong word.

I was sitting at my small, listening to the sound of pencil scratching paper, only interrupted by pauses to either pull thoughts in order, make corrections, or flip to the next page. I would never thank Jesper enough for getting me a small leather-bound journal. He introduced me to the beautiful world of writing that I had never known before.

I must've been too focused on my scribbling to notice the world around me.

Kaz had to clear his throat for me to know that he had gotten into my apartment. I turned around in my seat so I could look at him.

"Hey," I said. I would have been worried about him getting in, but I was the one who gave him a key. "Sorry, I was writing. Didn't hear you come in."

"You should be resting." he didn't acknowledge my statement. "You hit your head. You need to be in bed."

He said it like a boss instructing an employee, but we both knew that there was more to it than that. Well, I liked to believe that.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"You were unconscious," he argued.

"And now, I'm not-"

"Jesper had to carry you here!" he cut me off. "You could have easily died! I- We almost lost you. Now, get back into bed."

"Alright, alright," I mumbled. "Never knew that you cared so much."

He didn't respond to that. He merely watched as I climbed under my covers.

"I get it, you need to make sure that all of your tools are in working condition," I added, curling into my pillow.

There was this long pause.

Neither one of us moved. I was curled under my thin covers. He stood in the middle of my room. I couldn't see him. I wondered what his eyes were focused on. Was it just me or was it the mess around my home? Could he picture me living in my space or was my existence as much of an enigma to him as his was to me?

"I lied to you."

The quiet confession made me slowly push myself up. I held myself up on my hands, allowing my blanket to fall onto my lap. He was looking away from me. His eyes were fixed to my journal, staring at the words that I had scrawled into the paper before his visit.

"What do you mean," I asked.

The page sitting open was one that I should have been embarrassed by. Lines constructed to reflect a longing that I had only known with Kaz. Poetry about suffocating, yearning, burning, and begging. All of it boiled down to one thing: I needed Kaz as much as I needed air or water or food.

I should've been humiliated. But I wasn't. Because I knew that he had to be aware of my feelings. How could he not be when it so clearly filled my eyes when I looked at him?

"Kaz-"

"You were never merely a tool," he said, looking at me.

"Then what am I?" I muttered. "To you?"

He took a deep breath. When his eyes turned away from me again, it felt like my heart jumped into my throat. I just needed him to say something. Say what I had been desperate to hear for as long as I had known him.

"Kaz, please," I pulled myself over to the end of the bed, sitting on my knees. "Tell me."

"I care for you," he said. "More than I should. More than I want to."

He walked over, stopping right in front of me.

"I need to know that you're okay," he continued. "Always. I feel a need to be around you and protect you. You make me feel a safety that I haven't felt in years. If you were gone, I don't know what I would do. You... You are..."

He trailed off, looking as if the words were truly getting stuck in his throat. As if forcing out another word would bring him pain. I didn't want to be the source of that. He had already said so much more than I had ever wished for.

He looked down. I did the same. His hand was resting on my bedframe, just next to mine. I grinned and looked back at him.

"I... I'm not good at things like this," he mumbled.

"It's okay," I promised. "I'm patient."

He looked back at me. A grin started forming on his lips.

I felt safe calling it a good start.

Winter's Weather

Please see in me what I can’t see, I’m begging Please won’t you be the light I need so desperately

Physical affection was not something Kaz was used to.

He had made that abundantly clear to me.

I never pushed him. Or I never tried to. I let him take the lead most days, and if I ever did take the lead, then I would have no complaints if he pulled away. It was all meant to be understanding. Kindness.

It worked well for us. Even without any kind of touching, Kaz made it clear to me that I was not the same as everyone else. I caught his smiles. He would walk closer to me. I had free access to his office. He would mumble things to me that the others weren't meant to hear.

He had quiet ways of showing me that I meant so much to him.

I thought we were happy that way. For the time being, at least.

And then, Kaz showed me that maybe that wasn't the case.

He was standing by his mirror, tending to something. I was sitting on the chair opposite his desk, scanning my eyes over the pages of a book.

It took me a few moments to realize that he had moved to stand in the archway and watch me quietly. I grinned at him.

"You're staring, Brekker," I teased.

There was something both flattering and nerve-wracking about being the center of Kaz's attention. I had never been looked at with as much intensity as he looked at me. It felt as if he could stare into my soul as easily as he breathed. As if he knew every secret that I could ever think of keeping from him. It made my heart speed up and my face turn warm.

"Something's on your mind," I said, placing the book on his desk. "I can see it."

His eyes seemed to scan me for a moment longer before he spoke, "Am I wasting your time?"

"Never," I replied instantly. It was true. I wouldn't take back a moment that I spent with him. Ever. "Why are you asking?"

"Just something that I saw today," he tried to wave off the entire interaction.

I stood from my seat. I walked over to the archway, standing next to him in the entrance. "What is it, Kaz?"

"Have I ever once shown you that I care for you," he asked. "Ever?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"When?"

"Every day," I explained. "When you try to keep me safe or tell me that Inej brought me a new book or murmur something in my ear. You show me, Kaz. In your own special way. Please believe me when I say that I know it."

"You deserve more than this," he muttered. "You deserve a man who can touch you. A man that doesn't let his weakness stop him from being yours-"

"Stop it, Kaz," I cut him off. "I don't need more than what I have. I will decide what I deserve. It took me ages to convince myself that I deserved you. There isn't something better than you. Not for me. You are everything. The center of my world; the sky, the ground, and everything in between. I don't need to touch you or have you touch me to convince me."

He didn't respond.

Instead, he looked down for a moment. I took a deep breath, assuming that this was a losing fight. I was ready to let it go for the night, but Kaz stopped me before I could.

"I want you to touch me."

It was like the room filled with smoke. Tension so thick that I could hardly breathe. My mind couldn't process the sentence for a moment, and once it did, it didn't stop playing it over and over and over.

"Are you sure," I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"You don't have to-"

"I want you to," he stopped me.

"Okay," I nodded. "Anything in particular."

He took a deep breath. "No."

I took a moment to study his face. "I... I'm going to just reach up and touch your face-"

"I'm not a scared dog."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

I slowly lifted my hand up and went to cup his cheek.

I saw him tense as soon as my hand touched his face. His breathing picked up and his eyes closed. I had never craved to be able to read someone's mind quite like I did then. Maybe then, I could offer him some peace through it.

I felt guilt sitting in my stomach. I felt like I was bringing him pain. As if my hand had been covered in small blades, each cutting into his skin one by one.

The guilt only grew as I recognized the warmth in my heart. I loved Kaz. I never doubted that. Being able to touch him, to show just one ounce of the love I held was a blessing. But I was feeling this love while he was in pain. I couldn't inflict that on him.

I went to move my hand away, unable to handle seeing him like this. "Kaz-"

"Don't," he instructed, opening his eyes to look at me. "Please."

It felt like he was seeing me. Not some ghost from a nightmare that he wouldn't explain to me. Some remnant of a life he wanted to bury so desperately that I had seen haunt him far too often.

I barely noticed that Kaz matched his breathing with mine.

Maybe he didn't mean to. Maybe he was just trying to calm himself down and it was the best choice he had.

"Will you kiss me," he asked quietly.

I paused for a moment. "Are you... Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I stepped forward and grinned at him nervously.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

It was only for a few seconds. A few seconds of my lips barely touching his. I wanted to be gentle and careful, but I had this pull in my chest to just show him how much I adored him. But regardless of what I wanted, I leaned back, pulling my hand back with it.

We both stood there for a few moments before I finally spoke up, "Are you alright?"

Kaz let out a heavy breath before looking at me again. "Yes. I'm alright."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

It was a perfect enough moment for me.

The Truth I'll Never Tell

And I could tell you how I've really been But would you even want to know

I had somewhat expected Kaz to pull away after his final fight with Pekka Rollins.

It was a taxing venture. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could see it. On his face, in his shoulder, in the way he spoke. I just wanted to be there for him, but I felt the same exhaustion that he did.

I understood his desire to be alone after it had all gone down.

However, there's a distinct difference between needing time alone to regroup after an intense experience and unhealthy isolation.

Maybe my urge to show up at his office that night were selfish than I would admit to. Maybe it was more of an attempt to soothe myself than him. Even if he shoved me away, then I could say that I tried and live without the guilt of not reaching out to him when he may have needed me.

Regardless of whatever subconscious reason there may have been, I went to Kaz's office.

He was sitting at his desk, clearly lost in thought in some way.

I walked over to stand next to the desk, taking a moment to scan my eyes across the side of his face. His wounds from his last meeting with Pekka were healing quite nicely, but they were still noticeable. And they broke my heart.

"You're staring," He mumbled, looking over at me.

I blinked a few times. "Sorry. I wanted to check on you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my partner and I care for you," I explained. "You've been avoiding me, Kaz."

He pulled his eyes away from me, instead choosing to focus on something on his desk.

"I understand that a lot has happened," I continued. "And I have no interest in forcing you to say or do anything, but I need you to know that I want to listen. I want to know what's going on-"

"What difference would that make exactly," he asked, cutting me off.

"Because bottling up your emotions all the time isn't healthy," I shrugged. "You deserve to have someone to talk to, Kaz."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then, explain it."

There was a long pause. Tense. I watched Kaz's jaw clench for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest. I refused to leave him. Not like this.

"I thought that they'd stop," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"The nightmares. The flashbacks. I thought that getting rid of Pekka Rollins would get rid of them."

"And they didn't."

"No," he whispered.

"I... I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes. He looked embarrassed. He never liked pity. I should have shown that my attempts at empathy may look very similar in his eyes. And the worst part was that I didn't know how to prove him wrong.

"Kaz," I mumbled, going to take a knee in front of him so our eyes would be closer to level when he eventually turned to me. "I... I can't fix what's already happened. I can't. Believe me, there is nothing more I want than to be able to offer you some kind of clean slate. But I... I can support you. If you let me."

I heard a sigh escape him.

"You once told me that I gave you a sense of safety that you hadn't felt in a long time," I said. "Let me make good on that expectation."

He finally looked at me again, eyes scanning my face. I wonder what he was looking for. Ruminants of my injuries or simply some sign that I was lying to him.

"Okay," I asked.

He took a deep breath before nodding. "Okay."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

In that moment I knew that I was never going to be as in love with someone as I was with Kaz.

And I was perfectly content with that.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[meaniemace]

Hi ~✨ its luck that I found you (or you found me, I have seen your repost to my post) and can you, please make one-shot with Kent, where the reader, being an alien, comes to the Academy and everyone is interested in her (I mean in them) (because there were no aliens at the academy before) and attracts the attention of Kent, after which they begin to be friends and fall in love with each other?

Aye I just woke up but just because it's you my friend I'll get to writing :]

And here we are with another Kent oneshot! Woo! Iove this idea! I won't use the stereotypical description of aliens, I'll give them antennas and black eyes tho(the pupils). And heightened sense :]

NEW STUDENT!

.......................................

GIF by me again:]

.......................................

Pairing: Kent (last name unknown) X!alien!new student reader.

Warnings: swearing maybe, kissing at the end, kinda slow burn? (Might do a part two)

Synopsis: when a student of new species joins Nevermore Academy, it peaks the interest of a certain long haired siren.

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You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, principle Weems had told you you were the first ever alien in the academy, which didn't really help, now you may be wondering how you are there? Well let's see.

Some thousand years ago, your planet was attacked by another alien species, so your what you thought were called "ancestors" had to leave, and they ended up here. Your species has changed over the years, their funny colored skin Changing into that of beige or dark brown, their fully black eyes now matching the ones of the humans the black only staying in the middle surrounded by white, their antennas however, stayed. They allowed you to catch sounwaves, hear things further than you should be able to, and move things around.

They had made you a special uniform, lined with very dark green instead of the traditional purple, psh, stereotypes again. You had however also learned that, you wouldn't be the only one joining Nevermore late, there was this girl, Wednesday her name was?, Her uniform was black, and so seemed to be the rest of her. You liked it, she was different like you, but in her own way. Weems led you to your dorm room, your roommate was a vampire by the name of Yoko Tanaka.

Weems knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately, "hello, ms. Tanaka, I'd like to introduce you to someone" she moved aside "this is Y/n L/n, the first alien of the academy, and your new roommate" she said taking a breath "would be kind a give them a tour?" Yoko stared at you and her smile widened revealing her fangs, "omg! Of course I will!" She pulled you inside the room closing the door on Weems face.

"So you're an alien?!" She asked eyes wide "yup, that's me" you said "ooo cool! From which planet?" That you didn't know "oh, my species has been on earth for thousands of years, I don't really know." She nodded "okay okay! Let's start the tour!" She said excitedly pulling you along.

Around the end of the tour she pulled you to a small courtyard "this is the quad!" (Did I spell that right? Idk! :Sobbing in greek:) she started pointing to random people introducing them, eh, for them.. "and those are the scales, they're the sirens, that's Bianca their so called leader, that right there is Divina and next to her is her twin brother Kent" you stared at Kent, a little longer than you should've and he saw you, the second he did his eyes widened and he turned to tell his sister. Yoko however, pulled you away.

"don't mind them, they're a little, straight forward some times" she said "it's alright, I'm kind of used to it" you admitted "right... That's basically all you need to know for the school and if you need something just ask me" she smiled and you nodded "alright! Thanks Yoko!" "No problem!" She waved running off to her friends.

'lets see, what could I do?' you thought walking to the side sitting down you rested your back against the wall and closed your eyes. This all was hard to take in, you were scared you might not fit in. Suddenly, you heard footsteps followed by a female voice "hi!" You looked up to see too girls, Wednesday and a girl with blonde hair dyed with pink and blue at the ends. You got up and dusted yourself off "hey!" You replied and she looked at you excitedly "you look so cool! I love your eyes!" You smiled "thanks! Your hair looks nice!" You complimented back. "I'm Enid and this is Wednesday! She's also new here!" You nodded "nice to meet you Enid, and Wednesday!" Wednesday just gave you a nod. You and Enid became friends quickly, and maybe a little with wednesday.. you weren't sure. Even tho Enid was alot more outgoing than you, she was a great friend.

You'd been at Nevermore for a month already, you mainly hang out with Enid, Wednesday and Ajax. Xavier too sometimes. You've been trying to help Wednesday with the whole "monster in the woods" thing but, unlike her you focused on your friendships aswell. Lately you've been noticing a certain siren looking at you, even tho you doubt it's for any good.

Right now you were in your dorm room when you heard a knock "coming!" You yelled getting up to open a door, to your surprise Kent was standing outside "hi?" You asked "hey, look before you close the door in my face, listen!" You nodded "go on" "alright, the thing Is I think you're cool, okay? And I was wondering if you'd want to be friends?" This surprised you even more "you... Want to be friends?" He nodded "I mean, sure" you smiled starting to warm up to him already.

You and Kent started spending more time together, making sure no one knew, considering Bianca didn't like you. It was a three days before the rave'n now, everyone was talking about it. Wednesday wasn't going, and Enid was trying to make Ajax jealous after he stood her up. You had just finished your last class of the day with Ms. Thornhill and were on your way to the quad when someone pulled you behind a pillar "wha-!" You stopped talking when you saw Kent "oh god you scared me" you breathed and he laughed "sorry, I just wanted to ask you something" you nodded signaling for him to ask the question "do you uh, maybe want to go to the rave'n with me?.." you smiled "of course I do!" "Really?!" You nodded "yup!" "Great! I'll pick you up right before it starts sounds good?" "Yeah sounds great".

"okay!" Enid screamed "we have to get you something to wear!!" You gulped "alright...".

It took sometime but you actually liked what Enid found for you (up to you <3) "it's not half bad!" You smiled up at her "thanks! Enid!" She smiled "of course! It looks really good on ya!".

You paced up and down your dorm, Yoko had already left to find her 'date' what Id he doesn't show up??.. just then you heard a knock on the door and ran to open it. "Hi! Sorry if I took too long- wow you look- great!" he apologized "it's okay! Really and thanks, you don't look too bad yourself" "right let's go!" You nodded and left your room closing the door behind you. You walked with Kent to the rave'n, he seemed nervous the whole time. You were dancing around drinking what they called a 'yeti-tini' and overall had fun. You were standing in the crowd talking when something started to pour from the fire sprinklers. Weems started screaming and everyone followed, panicked you grabbed Kent's hand and pulled him out as fast as you could. "Phew" you breathed out, panting, "what the fuck-" he said catching his breath "I don't know..." He nodded and then seemed to realise something.

His head snapped up and he looked at you "are you okay?? Did you get hurt or something-?" You cut him off "I'm fine, are you-?" He nodded "yeah, yeah I'm okay" you nodded back, well this just got akward. Out of nowhere you burst out laughing "what?-" he said chuckling along "what is it?" "We are standing outside covered in red paint like idiots, that's what" he started laughing along yet suddenly got quiet "hey uhm..." You looked up "yeah?" "I don't know if this is the right time but.." he took a step forward looking straight into your eyes "can i- you know.." you understood immediately "yeah... Yeah of course" hearing that he wasted no time to bring you closer and kiss you, you of course kissed back, pulling away he chuckled "I wanted to do that for some time" "you should've"

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Siren man least goo! I actually really like this one tysm for the request, anything for a fellow Kent lover <3

Tag list: @day-dream1231 , @georgi-salva , @arson-the-royal , @falleni0-hq , @mindflay3r , @rottenstyx , @alice0blog , @nova-lov3su , @elduster , @countsmoon , @biggestsimponhere , @andreeasancheez , @justmanu , @whitewingsh , @hwrtsiren

[ostagars]

my thoughts on twc book 3

spoilers ahead! feel free to drop ur own opinions on things in my ask

anyways let’s get into it. this will be long-ish

so i will just say that book 3, much like the previous books, does read like a young adult fantasy book. which does kind of makes sense given mishka has said in the past that twc was going to be a book at first, iirc. also the amount of GRRRR GROWLING these vampires do........ like all the time

the blood drive... why was it included. i don't understand because it turned out to be such a Non-Problem. which it was never a problem to begin with, seeing as there are 2384923 legitimately normal reasons the detective could've come up with to Not participate in the drive. i genuinely would've loved for the auction to have lasted Wayyy longer and to have been wayyy more nerve-wracking than it actually was.

i do feel like the slow burn of M and A's routes have been...... Not as slow as i expected? while i did actually enjoy both of those routes, particularly M's, A's in particular felt... a bit ooc at times? in my opinion, the outward denial of A's feelings should've lasted longer, at least until book 4 or 5. especially since it's still only been, what, a few months since they all met? some of these vampires have lived for centuries. they wouldn't just Give up on repressing the feelings and admitting them after less than a year of knowing the detective?? especially when there's 7 books in total planned. there's still plenty of time

i feel like a love confession with F would've made more sense than with N. i really wish we were given the option with F, and not with N. i also have a lot of grievances with N's route in this book, particularly because they can admit their feelings to the detective while still omitting the part of themself they apparently don't want us to Ever Know. i understand the fear N has. it's just like...........,,,, how can N love the detective ALREADY when they can't even be completely honest with them about their past yet? in my opinion, it'd make more sense for a love confession to come after N telling the detective everything.

in terms of the tina bff route, @cekorax referenced something to me that made me even more uncomfortable with the flirting between tina and the agent sent to watch over her undercover as a police officer. firstly, it just feels weird, consent feels to be an issue here since tina doesn't Know they're an agent. and they're flirting with her. what my friend mentioned specifically was something that happened in the uk: undercover policemen sent to spy on activists ended up Marrying them. obviously we don't rly know where their ""relationship"" is gonna go (we CAN make likely assumptions tho lol) but it does make me nervous if this person is to be tina's love interest

rebecca............... i feel like there's usually 2 ways people feel about the relationship she has with the detective, and it seems to come down to one's personal experience. in my opinion, the detective holding something over rebecca's head that happened on their birthday at age 7 is a bit odd. but again this is coming from me, someone who did not have a parent who was similar to rebecca in any way. i will add i would've liked to have the choice of the detective to choose not to say anything about it, because mine wouldn't have even thought about it????? idk it just felt weird to me

lastly, i personally would have preferred to choose whether to stay detective & human liaison rather than have No Choice and have to become an agent. most of my detectives would've declined the offer. it kind of felt out of left field for me, i was veeery surprised when i read that scene. i didn't expect it

ok thank u for ur time <3

[kindredcandy]

Tolerate | Lucien x reader

Summary: the Night Court treats Lucien like garbage and you can't figure out why he puts up with it. Aka, I took some self deprecating things he said canonically and ran with it.

Words: 1785

TW// bullying, scars, mechanical eye, kissing, the inner circle is a bunch of assholes, insecurity, mocking trauma.

A/N

Just a note that the inner circle is super out of character in this! This is a really short oneshot. If you want a part 2 where they go back and face the IC I can totally do that! I just liked ending this part where I did.

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"You should've just gotten an eye patch. It would've looked better." Cassian recommended, a strange note of malice in his voice as he placed another layer onto his sandwich. 

"He can't see through an eye patch. Besides, wasn't that what the mask was for?" Rhys said like it's obvious. 

"At least the mask covered the scar." Nesta muttered in a low voice. 

They were mocking him. All of them had been taking digs at Lucien for the past hour at least, and ignoring your attempts to shut it down. Whenever he visited the Night Court they took it as an opportunity to tear him down as casually as they could, gaining some sort of satisfaction from hurting someone who had relation to the Spring Court. You didn't know why Lucien even bothered to visit anymore. You would've stopped coming a long time ago if they treated you the way they treated him. 

At first you thought he must've done something to solicit it, surely the Night Court wouldn't take it upon themselves to insult an innocent fae? But as you got to know the unmated male, you realized there was no merit to their hurled remarks. You seemed to be the only person in the circle who would even give him a chance, and with that chance he had stolen your heart. 

You couldn't admit it to him, knowing how he must view you. Your friends relentlessly insulted him at every opportunity, he would have no reason to feel anything pleasant for you. Even if your shared conversations were the highlight of your day.

"I can't decide what's worse, the scar or the freaky eye." Cassian pretended to study Lucien, as if it was very important to rank his flaws from best to worst. 

"Guys, that's enough." You said.

 The redheaded male had been casually ignoring their taunts up to that point, focused solely on eating and exchanging a line or two when they managed to say something that wasn't an insult. 

"It's fine, Y/N. I'm used to it." Lucien said plainly. 

His eye whirred as he looked up from his food to meet your gaze. It made your chest ache to know he was used to it, and he just ignored it. If you had been in his shoes it would've torn your self esteem into shreds, the way they constantly pick out every perceivable flaw they can. 

"No, they're being rude." You said, pointedly looking at Cassian and Rhys. They didn't seem particularly phased by your scolding, though they had the sense to not meet your burning stare. 

"We were just trying to help." Cassian says in a lame excuse. 

"No, you were being rude." You repeated, harder this time. 

"Y/N," Lucien interrupted and it sounded more like a warning than him calling your name.

You turn back to him, surprised he was so against you defending him. Nobody had stood up for him in a long, long time, and it was time for someone to do it. 

"He hasn't done anything to deserve this treatment." You saw the lame excuse rising up in Cassian and cut it off before he could start. "It's not just suggestions. You wouldn't talk to Rhys like that." 

"Y/N." Lucien said, hard enough to make you jump. "I. Don't. Mind." He pronounces every word, handsome face drawn into something sharp. 

"You don't deserve it." You said, aghast. 

"Right, because he wasn't involved with the Spring Court at all." Rhys snarked, eyebrow raised. 

"We've been through that already." You groan, frustrated. One of your hands slaps down on the table, the other gestures. "Feyre was involved in the Spring Court too. That doesn't make her a criminal, and it certainly wouldn't solicit this." 

There's a beginning of a snarl in Rhys at the mention of Feyre, but he holds it back, settling for a brutal glare that would have you cowering under normal circumstances. 

"Y/N. Alone, please." Lucien stands up, tossing his napkin on the table and walking into another room. 

You sigh, following him into an empty sitting room. Under normal circumstances your heart would've been beating faster at the thought of being alone with him, but today it was pounding with anger at the injustice done toward him. He rounds the loveseat and stands in front of the unlit fireplace, the dimness of the unoccupied room adding to the feeling of privacy. Lucien stands still, a contrast to your frustrated pacing. 

"Why are you doing this?" He asked and you paused, staring up into two incredible, yet different eyes. 

"Why am I doing this? Why are you putting up with it?" You retaliate, confused. 

"I told you, it's fine."

Something in your heart cracks a little, because you know this isn't Lucien. Where was the clever fox, too snarky for his own good? Where was the emissary who tolerated nothing from anybody? You had seen Lucien when his guard dropped, seen him when he was actually himself. You knew he could dish it out as hot as they served it, he could put every one of the inner circle members into their place and yet he stays silent. Says it's fine. 

"It's not fine. Lucien, why are you doing this?" Your voice is soft, teetering on heartbroken. His head drops back, staring at the ceiling for a long minute. 

"It's best for the courts to maintain good relations like these." It's a fake answer. You can tell his years of training helped him formulate a lie like that. "Besides, they're not entirely untrue, either. The things they say about me." 

Your jaw drops. "Lucien, they say horrible things about you. None of those are true." Your eyes dart around his face, scanning, searching him. You're caught somewhere between being too nervous by his beauty to make eye contact, and being too enraptured to look away. 

"They are. What they say about the scarring? I know what I look like, Y/N. You don't have to lie to me." 

Your throat tightens and the forewarning of tears press behind your eyes. He's telling the truth. He truly believes that he looks as horrible as they tell him he does. 

"They're lying." Your voice shakes terribly, betraying every emotion you were feeling. "How could you believe that about yourself?" You ask in disbelief. 

Lucien looks confused at the honesty and emotion displayed on every facet of you. The way you were so upset had him moving closer, auburn brows drawn together. "Y/N–"

"Tell me the truth." You interrupt. "I know it isn't just because you believe they're right. Even if they were right, the Lucien I know would still stand up for himself. Tell me what's going on." 

There's not room to argue or lie with the tone you took on, even if your voice was heavy with emotion. Lucien steps towards you, closing up the space so he's less than a foot away from touching you. 

"The truth?" He said it like it was a warning. "The truth is that I put up with it so they'll let me visit the Night Court. I don't fight back because they would ban me if I made a fuss." 

It's horrible and yet you know in the back of your mind that he's probably right. They only let him come around because he's complacent and doesn't question them.

"Why do you want to visit here so badly then? How is it worth it to tolerate this?" 

His russet eye darts between your own, his mechanical one whirs trying to keep up with it. He's weighing something, feeling the air before he says whatever it is next. 

"Because of you." 

Your heart stopped. There weren't many meanings one could attach to that, aside from the obvious, but you still tried to rationalize some other way that he couldn't love you like you did to him. 

"Because I need to be near you to continue living." He explained, taking the smallest step closer when you didn't harshly reject him immediately. "I know I don't look like them. I know this is miserable to look at, and you're so beautiful, you deserve an undamaged male."

"Lucien, shut up." Your breath fanned across his face in a whisper. "You're the most beautiful male I've ever set my eyes upon. I'm the one who is undeserving of you. Both in appearance, and in everything else." 

Lucien steps closer, his gaze lost between your eyes and now glancing to your lips, wetting his own with his tongue. 

"You're a terrible liar." He whispered so close that the air kissed your lips, even if he hadn't yet. 

"It's a good thing I'm not lying." There's a hint of a smile pulling up the corners of your mouth.

A tanned hand comes up to brush your cheek, sliding to cup your jaw. He pulls you in just as he leans in to meet you himself. Plush lips capture yours in a careful, gentle embrace, sending spiders attacking every nerve ending in your body. His lips ghosted above yours, brushing and igniting every vein inside of you with molten fire. Lucien hovered just enough to tickle, then leaned in and pressed him to yours, making your eyes roll back in your head when his teeth sunk into your lower lip. He was playing with every sensation humanly possible, and you wouldn't be surprised to find out that the heat burning inside you was truly Autumn Court magic transferred through his touch. He was too much, and not enough. You clutched the front of his jacket, tugging him as close as you could. 

You'd wanted this for so long, and so long had you thought it was nothing more than a dream. The feel of his heat, his body against yours was the fantasy that lulled you to sleep each night. Everything you dreamed he would be, everything you wished you could have was in the palm of your hands and the tip of your tongue. 

He pulled back first, decades of self control outweighing your recklessness. His forehead leaned against yours, a curtain of red hair falling along side your face, his breath panting across your sensitive lips

"How long–"

"A long time." You panted, answering.

His hand shifted from your jaw to sweep your hair behind your ear, the tenderness and affection in his eye nearly made you weak. 

"Lucien," You start, the question had been weighing on you, honestly since you met him. You never anticipated that you'd be close enough to him to ask. "Is it terrible that I think the scar makes you hotter?" 

He breathes out a genuine laugh, pulling back to look at you. "Cauldron, boil me." 

[grapementos]

when you’re angry at them (pt 2)

characters: s. aizawa, (aged up) h. shinso

bakugo, kirishima, and denki’s part here.

cw: none

aizawa knew you were upset when you didn't greet him at the door with your usual kiss on the cheek and sympathetic look at his tired eyes. even more surprising was the dark living room he walked into and the lack of your presence in the kitchen.

you were usually cooking dinner around this time, but unfortunately that wasn't the case this particular evening.

with a tired sigh, he started trudging towards your bedroom, an apology already burning in the back of his throat. he knew exactly why you were upset; it was his fault.

what had he expected, rushing out the door refusing you to give you a goodbye kiss cause he was 'going to be late'?

it's only natural you were upset, but just how upset was the question.

a glance in the bedroom was all it took for him to conclude that you were, indeed, quite upset. in your hands was the book he'd long ago deemed the 'doghouse-book'. he hated that book, not only because it symbolized you being upset, but it was a stupid book about heroism written by the one and only toshinori yagi.

there you were, under the duvet on your side of the bed 'reading' under the soft glow of the bedside lamp on your nightstand. he would've continued standing there just appreciating your beauty, but unfortunately he had a problem to fix.

'one that you caused, shouta.' he reminded himself, taking a step into the doorway.

you didn't look up from the book, not even when he spoke, "how was your day, y/n?"

no answer.

he hummed, "oh, that's good. mine would've been nice," he walked slowly, taking his time as he crossed the room to get to you, "but someone has been angry at me all day."

you frowned in protest when he took the book from your hands and snapped it shut, abandoning it on your nightstand.

"and we can't have that." he continued, crouching by the side of the bed, "so what is it you want, darling? want me to beg? grovel? you know i'll do whatever it takes." he leaned his face on his palm, quirking a brow at you inquisitively.

a light flush dusted your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes, "you can't charm your way out of this one, shouta."

he chuckled, leaning his face forward onto the edge of the bed, "no? can i apologize my way out of it, then?"

his lazy smile was easily dissolving your anger, as much as you hated to admit it, "you can try."

and try he did. he tied his hair up, discarding his scarf on the dresser on the way around to his side of the bed, "that's all i needed to hear."

he laid beside you, tired gaze burning into yours, "i am sorry, you know. i should've given you a goodbye kiss. work will never be more important than you."

you scooted into his grasp, nodding in forgiveness, "i get it. it just kinda hurt, cause you never know what can happen when you step foot out the door. especially in the world we live in." you swallowed hard, gripping the front of his shirt, "if something happened to you and i didn't get to say goodbye.."

"hey, don't do that." he frowned, smoothing a hand up your back, "don't think about that. i'm right here, okay? just focus on now."

"i know," you whispered, "i'm trying."

"then that's all that matters."

you just laid together until you dozed off, trapping an aizawa that still needed to shower in your grasp. a look at your sleeping face was all it took to decide that showering could wait.

shinso wasn't really a fan of passive aggressive, beat-around-the-bush situations; they tended to frustrate him more than anything. however, when it came to you, he had patience.

especially when he caused your out-of-the-ordinary behavior.

clingy, he'd called you. it'd been like a stab to the heart when he'd pushed you away in a frustrated haze when you were trying to tell him about your day.

you'd be lying if you said that you didn't shed a few tears after that, suddenly not as excited about the new cafe that was opening up just down the block.

he realized his mistake immediately, but he lacked the energy to apologize for what he'd done. hero work was truly wearing him down, as much as he hated to admit it.

so he apologized the next morning, but you were a completely different person. you didn't wake him up with a kiss, eat at the same table as him, or even rant about your day when he came home. it was different, so terribly different, but you wouldn't listen to his weak apologies.

it went on for two days before he dropped down on the couch beside you, frowning when you scooted over to add space between the two of you.

"i took a few days off. we'll be able to go to that new cafe that's opening up." he hummed, draping an arm across the back of the couch, "sound good to you?"

your lips were pursed, gaze still glued on the television in front of you, "you didn't have to take off work for clingy little me."

he sighed, running his free hand through his hair, "i really am sorry, y/n. i never should have said that to you; there's no excuse, period. but i really want to make it up to you, so will you please give me a chance?" tired eyes bore into yours, geniune and so kind, even if it wasn't always visible.

you allowed yourself a small smile, "sounds good, 'toshi. i heard they're gonna serve that special earl grey drink you like."

"london fog, babe." he corrected, scooting closer to you.

you sent him a knowing look, quirking a brow.

"but special earl grey drink works too."

im sorry it’s only two characters; im exhausted, but i wanted to write at least SOMETHING. reblogs are appreciated <3