#i was just queueing up one of your fics for tonight!

[dearmrsawyer]

when you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur favourite followers :)

oh hello!!! right let me think, okay here's 5 of my most listened to aka favs:

through the dark - one direction

below my feet - mumford & sons

fairytale - sara bareilles

the optimist - bennie james (a local artist from my uni days who disappeared off the map but i still have the songs he released at the time)

soldier, poet, king - the oh hellos

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 (𝑳𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑹𝑬) ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 14 (15… x_x)

tags : pwp (with plot), (it’s uhh kind of more on the plot side ish… i think? maybe? hfskj), praise, established but developing relationship, mild angst, hurt/comfort (ish), jealousy, possessiveness, slight spoilers for the lumiere myth, references to “midnight whispers”, kissing and making out, sliiight dry humping, wall sex, vaginal sex, desperate sex so it’s kind of rough ish, creampie, tl;dr both of you just can’t get enough of each other, use of pet names “angel” and “my star”, lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 3.7k

an : okay so i’m late queueing this but. COUNTDOWN TO XAVIER’S BIRTHDAY - ONE DAY TO GO !!! :D for my beloved darling boy here’s 1 out of 3 total fics prepared for him this month <333 (which may be off-schedule, BUT…) this was fun to write, so i hope you have just as much fun reading! sdkjfhsdk at this point i think i’ve barely ever written xavier fics without plot/feelings… loving this man will just do that to you i guess…

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @spotted-salamander @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @rafayelsgf @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @love-and-deepstrays @keioxo @theanbitchless (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

There’s a lot more to Xavier’s jealousy than you realize, and you’re adamant on setting it right.

This was how it was to be in love with you.

The sweet smell of roses, a walk under the cherry tree.... The calm breeze of morning and soft, fresh linen sheets. Sunlight peeking in through the window, pages of a book. Of words that could mean more to him than he could ever think to describe.

Xavier could call on all the possible analogies he could think of, pull from all the poems and stories that he'd read. And yet none could compare to you. It was in the same way that the stars were second to none—so too, then, were you.

You had always called him your star. But to him, the opposite was just as true.

And perhaps that was why this was so difficult.

The stars were different.

Sometimes changing in position, sometimes visible, sometimes not... From where the both of you stood, they were tiny specks of light in the vast domain of the sky—illuminating the night as much as they could, but part of a different world altogether. Unreachable. Untouchable. So bright, so radiant, that the single, slightest touch could burn him down to nothing.

They belonged to the skies; better admired from afar. It was torture to fall in love with something that, to anyone, felt utterly, unspeakably unattainable—

But that was how it was to be in love with you.

And it was a curse as much as a blessing.

"So then Tara mentioned this new place that opened up recently, and she swears by its service! She said we should totally go out and celebrate!" Your eyes gleamed with excitement as you spoke, taking in a spoonful of your ice cream to bring up to your lips. "So this does mean I have a little last-minute rendezvous later tonight... I'd have invited you, too, but—you know. Girl's night?"

His gaze remained transfixed.

The pace at which you both walked was matched, and relatively relaxed—yet he'd barely touched his ice cream. Instead, blue eyes focused on you as you spoke, tracing the movement of your lips and that sparkle in your eyes that he could never ever tire of.

"Okay," he murmured.

When you looked up at him, he glanced away, bringing a hand back to rub sheepishly at the bridge of his nose.

"...Really, really? Just okay? You usually, I dunno, ask me more about the people I'm with, or something..."

He shook his head, and there it was—the little smile on your face didn't go unnoticed. He knew you were trying not to tease, and your actions were so well-known by him that he'd memorized them all for himself. It was endearing to see you like this, knowing you probably knew his habits just as well as he did yours. And at the same time, he knew that you were right.

"Well, I mean... It's just Tara and the others," he said slowly. "You've... been spending a lot of your time with your hunter friends lately. I know who they are."

"I know who they are. You've a way with words, huh?" With a roll of your eyes, you took another bite of ice cream, before nudging him slightly with your elbow. "I've been trying to get to know more of the hunters in the Association lately. There's a lot of them, you know? I'm really glad that everyone's been so nice."

This time, he didn't say anything. Only a quiet hum, the soft crunch of autumn leaves on the concrete a sound that proved comforting to both of you.

The truth was, he was trying not to be so childish about it.

Something stirred in his chest when you spoke, that familiar discomfort that came with a feeling he knew to be jealousy.

It wasn’t a nice feeling.

But it was also easy to lose a star.

It was easy to lose you when, sometimes, he didn’t feel as if he had the right, really, to own you.

Because who was he to control your feelings?

There was no guarantee that, in this lifetime, you wouldn’t just up and leave.

And the more time you spent with others, the more he realized how true that could be.

There was no certainty that this was end game.

“Xavier?”

He heard your voice call out softly to him, and he looked down—

God. You were so cute.

Your head tilted to the side with a little air of concern, and he couldn’t help but smile. The moment a gentle breeze blew, he leaned down for a cheeky kiss on your forehead.

“X-Xavier—?!”

The incredulous expression on your face was one he wished he could preserve in his mind for eternity. He was sure that if that were possible, he really would.

“It’s nothing,” he assured. And he, himself, wanted to believe that to be true. “I like walking with you. It’s nice like this.”

It’s nice like this.

I hope it stays like this.

I hope that this time, we can just… stay together…

—

Oops.

That was the first thought in your head as you shot up from bed, eyes bleary with sleep.

Your phone was in your hand, and you stared aghast.

Package delivered.

You thought you’d been delusional when you could have sworn you heard nothing of a doorbell, until you looked at the address. And that was not your apartment number. That was Xavier’s.

You’d forgotten to change it—again.

Haphazardly throwing on a sweater and putting on your shoes, you raced out your door. The fact that you had yet to receive a text from him about it, nor have it delivered to you, likely meant one of two things: either he hadn’t received it and it was waiting outside his door, or he’d discovered what was in it.

His door absolutely did not have a package waiting outside it.

“Xavier? Xavier!” a little bit out of breath from the sheer shock of such a morning, you called out for him and hurriedly knocked on his door.

“Good morning,” came a voice from inside.

He wasn’t opening the door.

“Xavier…?”

“Is this about your package?”

“...Yes! Yes, it is! I forgot to change the address—”

“I have it.”

“Th-that’s great! Could you, maybe, open the door…”

A shuffling could be heard, and when the door did open, your jaw immediately dropped at the sighed before you.

He had opened it.

“Did you really order this? Were you planning to come here again and ask me to wear it?”

Xavier was frowning, his arms crossed in front of him—he wasn’t at all happy, that much you could tell. But you almost couldn’t focus on that. Not with the black tassel ear cuff hanging on his right ear, not with the suit he was currently wearing. And, those black gloves, the metal cuffs, the gold embellishments, the crimson dye, the blood-red collar… and everything.

It was a stark difference to how you usually saw him.

Xavier almost never wore black… But this looked phenomenal on him.

In retrospect, you supposed that there was nothing he could ever truly look bad in. But this? This was a whole other level of eye candy. There was absolutely no keeping that giddy smile from spreading across your face, even as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that…”

The way his brows furrowed was near downright adorable, the corners of his mouth turning down into a little pout. You could have squealed.

Almost.

Instead, your hands reached out in a look of wonder as you slid your touch down the side of his arm, feeling the well-made fabric of the suit. It was just a cosplay, and yet, it nonetheless seemed so well-made, mearly comparable to the original…

“You opened the package? It’s mine, you know,” you murmured, and with a huff, he stepped aside to allow you into his apartment. You weren’t mad that he opened it, really—and the fact that he put it on? While you could tell he wasn’t happy about it, he was already being nice enough to indulge you with all this again.

“Is it really your package? You could have delivered it here on purpose. I saw Lumiere on the label. These are clothes in my size.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other in silence, and you could very well remember how this played out the last time you were in this situation.

“Well,” you started, if only to fill the air around you that had grown a little tense. “I didn’t expect it to arrive this soon… We were talking about it last night. You know, with the girls? A few days ago at the office, apparently Nero was all busy because a new line of Lumiere merch came out—a whole alternate costume! We talked about it all night and I had to order a set, too, I just thought I wouldn’t get it for another week—”

You were cut off in a swift movement.

With wide eyes, you found yourself pressed up against the wall, Xavier’s hands on either side of your head. The warmth of his presence so near you had you holding your breath, almost as if the air around you had turned from tense to suffocating. There was something about it that simply rendered you unable to breathe. It was easy to get all dizzy with him so close to you.

But when you looked at him, what you were met with was... not anger.

There wasn’t a trace of it on his features.

Instead, you were surprised to see a hint of something else.

His lips pressed into a thin line. Displeased, yes—but his gaze, while kept on yours, was desperate. Eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowed ever so slightly with the prospect of almost begging you for something that you couldn’t quite place... Something you felt as if you should.

“Xavier?” you murmured. Your hand raised, slowly, carefully, up to cup his face.

This was different from the last time you’d played around with Lumiere’s costumes. He wasn't just sulking over it.

“...But is that really who you want to be calling?” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. This was an emotion you couldn’t quite read, nor was it one that was familiar to you.

“Xavier? What’s going—”

“It’s always like this.”

Your mouth shut, and you frowned, trying desperately to understand the tone in his voice.

“It’s still always Lumiere, right?” he let out a slow breath. “Why do you care so much about Lumiere? You’d talk about him to your friends, too. You’d spend an entire night without me for him.”

“What? That’s not—I told you, we just wanted to—”

“But I’m right here.”

The calm, even tone with which he’d been speaking slipped in that moment. A crack in his voice—though barely audible right in the moment—wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by you.

Something was wrong.

He was rarely ever like this with you—this wasn’t even an argument, it was just… It was something.

His right hand, previously placed by your ear, shifted to take your hand from his cheek. Taking the other at the same time, he pinned both hands back against the wall, preventing you from moving. The lace of your fingers together had you hyper aware of the leather texture of his gloves, and your breath hitched. 

He leaned in.

“I’m right here.”

A repeat of his words.

Yet he almost sounded as if he could break.

“I know you are,” you started, speaking carefully.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

This time you spoke firmly, meeting his gaze full-on with a certain sense of conviction that you were not going to let him try to doubt. “Please... what brought this on, Xavier?”

For a while, there was no answer.

His chest rose and fell, deep, calming breaths for himself almost as if trying to compose himself in front of you. You didn't like that. He did it so often; hiding things from you for your sake, putting on a braver face for you if only to keep you from worrying any more than you needed to.

But you needed to.

You wanted to.

Was that not what a relationship entailed? To worry about each other?

You could tell that this meant more to him than simple, petty jealousy—and you were determined to find out what that was.

“Don’t do that,” you mumbled. You frowned slightly, as if to make your point. “Don’t act in front of me. Don't put up a front. You’re upset, right? Something’s wrong. Xav… Are you still jealous? Is that what this is?”

“...I’m not.”

“But you are. Don’t do that.”

Like before, his eyes averted, but you didn’t miss the way he had to grit his teeth just to make sure he would keep a straight face.

“Xavier.”

You tugged at your wrists.

“Xavier.”

His eyes closed. While his grip on your hands loosened slightly, he didn’t let up—his forehead pressed against yours, and for the first time, you realized how shaky he felt. 

His breath was warm. His hands were warm. You could barely notice the cold of the wall pressed against your back, the rest of his living room fading away into the background as if all that existed was you, and him, and this little corner you had to yourselves.

As if it were all that mattered.

In a way, it was.

He was all that ever mattered.

“I don’t want it to change,” he whispered. His voice was small; smaller than you had ever heard it before. “I don’t want us to change.”

“Huh? But we’re not changing…”

“No, we’re not. I hope we don’t. It’s enough like this, just to be with you…”

Something about his words stirred at the pit of your stomach.

I hope we don't.

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps you'd been spending too much time without him, and perhaps he just wanted to feel... a little more wanted by you.

“Xavier…”

This time your hand slipped away from his hold, and it was back on his face, cupping his cheek. You watched him lean into it—a soft sigh of resignation, nuzzling into the palm of your hand like he wanted nothing more than your touch.

You swallowed thickly.

“Xavier, it’s not that I’m so fond of Lumiere…” you spoke softly. “I’m fond of you.”

His eyes opened, a slow blink of mild confusion.

“Lumiere is you. Is he not? He’s handsome, and gentle… just like you are.”

When his expression didn’t let up, you continued.

“Xavier, you saved me. I’ve always thought that Lumiere was amazing… But, now, knowing that he’s you—doesn’t that mean I get to love both you and him at the same time?” Your thumb rolled over his skin, and you leaned up slightly, teasing for a kiss. “I loved you first. So I like him because he’s you.”

The tips of your noses touched, and his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes locked this time, and he was all that you could see. All that you would ever see. Close. Impossibly close. Within reach… this time, because this was the Xavier that had come to love you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Maybe you felt a little sense of pride knowing this star was all yours. And maybe that was what he needed to feel, too.

“I… don’t like him,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be him… I just… want to be me. With you. Like this.”

"And you are you."

"But I'm not Lumiere. Lumiere is part of the past. I want… I… I'm here."

Ah.

Somehow, you understood.

Your gaze softened, and you let out a slow, quiet sigh. "Oh, Xavier…" you mumbled. “I like you no matter who you choose to be, Xavier. Ah—”

You smiled, and then shook your head. “Sorry," you corrected. "That’s wrong. I mean… I love you, no matter who you choose to be.”

You saw his eyes light up at that, breath hitching. Those blue, blue eyes—bluer than blue, the most beautiful shade of it that you’ve ever seen.

That was it.

That was what he needed to hear.

His lips trembled slightly, and then all you could feel were them.

He crashed against you, pinning you back against the wall just as he had done earlier, and you could feel everything. His knee between your legs, inching upwards, pressing you back with every ounce of his being as if the single, final thread of self-control had snapped.

“My star… my angel…” 

He gasped between kisses, barely muttering out words before he would drag his lips plush against yours in a way that made you want. A way that made you need.

You moaned against him, his body melting, molding into yours.

My star.

Xavier was so unfair.

Even the nicknames you would reserve for him could be turned right back to you, snaking his way into your heart that he had, that he owned, because you had given it—everything—all to him.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Not when the heat of his presence wrapped enveloped you in a hazy mist of love and desire, the pull of his touch so strong that you couldn’t ever think of leaving. His fingers curled into yours, his grip straining. Bodies pressed together, the outline of his bulge grinding between your legs—his hips rutted into you with not much thought behind his movements, and your desperate pants fell into each and every kiss as if you simply couldn’t get enough. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Your mind could only fill with thoughts of him, because he’d taken that for himself as much as everything else.

“X-Xavie—mmphf—”

It didn’t take long.

Clothes discarded in barely a moment before he was hoisting you up on his waist and fucking you, your back hitting the wall with every upward thrust of his hips.

“X-Xavier!” you cried. Your eyes rolled back as he dipped his head into your neck, muffling his moans into your skin. “Xavier… Xavier… So good for me… so, so good, nnh—haa—”

Every praise uttered from your lips caused his thrusts to jerk, a whine falling from his lips.

He liked it.

“Mmh… Mh—yes— j-just like that! Ngh, you fuck me so, so well—ha-ah!”

You clawed at his back as the tip of his cock edged against your sweet spot, and you could tell with the way he choked out a laugh into your skin that you were in for it. His hips continued to snap against yours until you could barely register any coherent thought in your head. He would plunge in and out of your wet, leaking cunt with reckless abandon—you almost couldn't breathe.

“Xavier! Hnng—so good! Good boy, good—ngh—! Th-there! Please!”

You were long gone.

He could only hold you up with his sheer strength—you felt weak as you cried out endless strings of praise, obscene sounds of sex filling the room in an instant.

“My star…” He leaned back to hold you properly against the wall, grunting and panting. With his hair stuck to his forehead, droplets of sweat sliding down his skin, your eyes glazed over. “My star. My star. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine…”

With a mewl, your legs tightened around his waist, and he kissed you. Tongue, and teeth, and messy. Just as needy as earlier. Just as desperate as earlier. Your hands continued to claw at his back, fervent movements of his lips against yours in a foggy frenzy of pure want.

“Mine,” he gasped, pulling away just enough to speak. “My angel, my star—my pretty—pretty angel—my—good girl—”

His kisses, his thrusts, were punctuated with every word, driving you absolutely insane.

“Ngh—ah! Xavi—vie—Xavier—!”

You could barely get any more praise out as he easily turned the tables on you, lulling you into a headspace where all you could say was his name. His name, that, gladly, he would easily relinquish to you. A name that was yours as much as his. A name that you could call, this time, with the comfort of him being with you.

“Angel…” he groaned. “Feel'so good… Taking me so well…”

“G-gonna cum! Xavie—Xav—haa—!”

“Good girl… Good girl, good—girl—good—ngh—girl…!”

That was it.

One last thrust had you spasming around him, practically collapsing into his arms as he held you up, keeping you between the wall and his body as his own trembled with a release triggered by your own.

“So much… so much…” you buried your face into his neck, and he rubbed soft, soothing circles into your back. Hot, white ropes of cum filled your insides, enough to leak out of you, trailing down your legs.

The two of you stayed still for a moment, catching your breaths. There was comfort, in being held tightly in his embrace. And it wasn’t until a while later that either of you spoke.

“...The Lumiere plushie…” he breathed, quietly. “Do we have to keep it?”

You lifted your head, shooting him an incredulous look. “You’re still upset over it?!” Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark-themed Lumiere plushie resting neatly atop of the coffee table, and you let out a huff. “Xavier, really, I promise you that I—”

You stopped.

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling in what you noted was not quite amusement, but… happiness, nonetheless.

You huffed slightly, but it felt lighter knowing that he was happy.

That was all you ever wanted, after all.

His forehead pressed back against yours, and he spoke again.

“Do you mean it?” he murmured. “What you said earlier. That you love me… No matter what?”

You smiled.

“Of course I do, silly. Isn’t that what you say to me all the time, too? What’s to make you think that I can’t say it back to you?” you gave him a playful swat, rolling your eyes. “I agree with you, you know… I like it like this. I like being with you. I want it to stay this way, too. Because all I've ever wanted was to be with you. You, whoever you feel like being. Whether it's Lumiere, or the Xavier in front of me now. That's... what it's like to love a star. Right?"

Something flashed in his eyes, then, before he nuzzled against you in that way he so often did with you.

“...Mm. So this is what it’s like to love you."

He was whispering, and he seemed to be speaking more to himself.

But, he smiled: 

“Ah, no… This is what it’s like to love you more.”

an : lumiere really is the best!!! 🥰✨

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[wtfsteveharrington]

take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.” 

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 

“M’still mad at you.” 

He winces but he knew it was coming. 

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 

And you still won’t look at him. 

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now. 

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 

[soaps-mohawk]

So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

[aphroditeinthesea]

Hi! Could I request a Percy Jackson x Daughter of aphrodite reader angst? (this request is inspired by another fic hehe) Where the percy jackson asks the reader to help woo Annabeth (you can decide how if you decide to do this) since she's A daughter and aphrodite and immediately Assumes that she's a master in the love department but the thing is the reader has a huggers crush on percy but she decides to help him out because everyone in camp knows that percy and annabeth are made for each other (just thinking about helping your crush get on with their crush makes my heart acheee😫 Againn if you decide to pick this up you can decide on the ending!!) That's all I wantttt~~ take care of yourself!!!

“ falling feels like flying (til the bone crush) ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

a/n i <3 writing percy fics just so i can use a pic of logan lerman (he’s so pretty)

⚠️ extreme and painful longing

˚ ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ⋆

He was so pretty. And that’s coming from a daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N was always admiring him from afar. His black hair that would occasionally be swept away from his face as the wind blew, causing the perfect view of his perfect features. It was confusing how a guy could look that beautiful.

She knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way, of course. Lots of girls had crushes on him. Most prominently, the prettiest daughter of Athena. Who, as if on queue, approached Percy as he was training. She had her curls in a ponytail, no makeup, just sweat that somehow made her glow. She didn't try. And he looked at her like she was all that he worshiped.

“I cant believe youre jealous of her,” one of y/n’s sisters commented.

She scoffed, “I’m not jealous of her,” she faced the other girl, “she’s just a bookworm, who happens to look like if Kate Hudson and Taylor Swift had a baby who was Victoria’s Secret Angel.”

“Mermaid man, twelve o’clock.”

“What?” She turned around to see the son of Poseidon approaching her. She awkwardly flipped her hair to be in front of her shoulders, then a little behind her shoulders, then-

“Y/N! I wanted to talk to you,” he greeted, sitting next to her.

Her sister smirked before walking off with a wink. Her heartbeat quickened, her mind going stupid, “Percsty!” She smiled.

“I have to confess something to you, no one knows, so please don't tell anyone, okay?”

She quickly nodded, “anything, yeah of course. What is it?”

He bit his lips. Oh gods. “I was wondering if you could help me impress Annabeth.”

Heart? Shattered. Brain? Broken. Lungs? Zero air, absolutely nothing.

“You like her?”

He blushed, looking down and fidgeting with his hands, “I do.”

“I can help,” dumbass, “one of the perks of being Aphrodite’s daughter.”

With that, she found herself in cabin three, under terrible, terrible circumstances.

“What’s her favorite flower?”

He thought for a second, “irises.”

Y/N wrote that down in her notebook, which she would promptly be burning at the campfire tonight. The stress was taking her over, she was ready to tear off the pink fluff ball that sat atop the pen.

“Food?”

“Extra olive pizza.”

“Gag me with a spoon,” she blurted as she wrote. “What?”

“What?”

He leaned back on his bed, “you think she’ll like this? I’m not even sure if she likes me back.”

“Trust me,” she sighed, “she does.”

“I dont know.”

“Percy, she does,” she snapped, “especially I planned this whole thing.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he grinned, “I really wanna make sure she likes everything.”

“She will,” she reassured. “You know, I never really pegged you as a romantic.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, “but when it comes to her, gods.”

Y/N frowned, “you really love her?”

He stuttered, “I mean, love, that’s a big word. I- uhm- love her- I don’t,” he took a breath, “I do.”

The only way I can explain what y/n thought in that moment was something along the lines of, “alfkhgnlkhsjk.”

She looked next to him from where she was sitting. That’s when she noticed the framed picture on his bedside table. Him and Annabeth, two years ago it looked to be. His arm around her shoulder, both of them seemed to have been laughing when the candid was taken. That's when it hit her. The bright smiles on their faces were the ones she only ever saw when they  were together. Like they both had smiles reserved for the other.

She looked back at the green eyes that were looking at her, “I can tell.”

She stood in the middle of the woods, a few feet away from the camp entrance. She saw the figure approaching her. She reached for her pocket, getting ready.

“Cheese pizza with extra olives?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

“$11.90,” the delivery boy added.

She handed him the money, plus tip, considering he had to come into the middle of the woods for this.

She walked back into camp. Wondering why she was doing this. If she had been one of her siblings, she probably would've tried to sabotage the whole thing. Make sure that Percy and Annabeth never happen. But the way he talked about her? Like she was the center of the universe? She knew she could never compete with the daughter of Athena. His wisegirl.

“You got the pizza?”

She handed it to Percy as he set up the pink irises in a vase, “here,” she muttered, “there’s no change.”

“One pizza costs twenty dollars?” He questioned.

She shrugged, “inflation.” It was kinda depressing. The best revenge she could get was giving an eight dollars and 10 cents tip. She awkwardly played with the skirt of her dress, “I’ll go get Annabeth.”

She hurried to cabin six. She knocked on the door, lucky enough, the blonde opening it, “hey?”

“Annabeth!” she forced a smile, “Percy was looking for you, he wanted you to meet him by the strawberry fields.”

“Oh?”

“Seaweed Brain!” y/n heard the laugh from archery training. She turned around, catching a glimpse of the new couple. Her hand was in his as they walked. Her nose buried in his shoulder as she giggled. For a second, just a second, he looked back at the daughter of Aphrodite. He flashed her smile, wording, “I owe you.”

Yes, you do.

[velvetyh]

⌜Between Deadlines and Desires⌝

꒰ PAIRING ꒱ colleague!Sangyeon x fem!reader (corporate world; colleague!au) ꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ sangyeon really admires you from afar and respects you. but what happens after you get disrespected at work? ꒰ WORD COUNT ꒱ 7.9k words ꒰ TW ꒱ 18+, reader and Sangyeon are both overworked, reader gets humiliated by her asshole of a boss, the big boss is a misogynist, sex in a public setting (at work), oral (both receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex (from me, I know, shocking, right?), multiple orgasms (for reader), facial, fluffy end? ꒰ NOTE ꒱ it was supposed to be self-indulged (yeah, the humiliation happened to me but not the rest lol) but since my colleague is now an ass, it's just a basic colleague!au fic! Enjoy!! (I'm gonna ignore the fact that i focused on the wrong colleague at my work since the beginning I'm so dumb) ꒰ REQUESTED ꒱ nope!

୧ ‑‑‑‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑

The atmosphere at work was quiet, your tall building staring down at the long queue of commuters stuck in traffic for the past two hours. The only sounds disturbing the silence of your floor were your fingers tiredly typing on the keyboard and the scattered manly voices in the conference room on the other end of the corridor, a meeting dragging on well beyond the originally scheduled end time.

Downing the rest of your now cold cup of coffee, you stood up, heels clicking on the floor as you walked past the conference room, the voice of your colleague and your boss mixing with some unfamiliar ones in a heated discussion.

You sighed, the bright red numbers of the digital clock on the wall showing 21:09, reinforcing the exhaustion in your limbs. You tried your best to relieve your eyes from constantly staring at your computer screen without smudging your mascara, which was not easy. You defeatedly shook your head from side to side as you heard your boss arguing with a client for the nth time tonight, his voice suddenly becoming louder as the conference room’s door swung open.

“Yeah, I’ll look if we have it in the archives room,” you recognised the stressed voice of Sangyeon, your colleague, as he closed the door behind him and walked in the opposite direction of the break room.

Once the dishwasher was loaded, you took the same direction as him, ready to return to your desk to clock out and go home. Your shoes clicked again on the tile flooring, the cold light of the archives room spilling into one of the many sinuous corridors that composed the building.

Peeking inside the room, you noticed Sangyeon’s broad back clad in a tight white shirt, his muscles tensing even more as he was rummaging through a binder for some documents.

“Where the fuck is that document,” you heard him mumble, his head snapping to the side as you knocked on the wooden door, your gesture startling him.

“Do you need help with something?” you kindly asked, slowly making your way towards him.

“Y/N? Why are you still here?” he blinked, a file in his hand.

“I had some contracts to proofread and some international clients to call. Do you need help?”

“Yeah, sort of. Do you know if we ever made our American clients sign a new contract last year? I can’t find it,” you quickly looked at the name of the client on the file that he was carrying and nodded.

“I think we did. But that’s not the right binder. You’re looking through the accounting one, you should look through the administrative one,” turning around, Sangyeon watched you crouch down to get the right binder, his eyes remaining a second too long on your ass, your curves enhanced by your tight pencil skirt.

Setting down the binder in front of you, Sangyeon’s figure towering over your shoulder, eyes trying to read the documents you were rapidly skimming through, your hands abruptly stopping and opening the folder once you found what you were looking for.

“Here, it should be that one,” you mumbled and handed him the confidential document with a smile.

“You’re a lifesaver Y/N, I hope you know that,” he pointed a gentle finger in your direction as he walked backwards, a smile decorating his lips as he went back inside the conference room.

Feeling nice enough to help your poor, stressed colleague, you gathered all the papers he got out of the binder and put them back in their initial spots before locking the archives room.  

You had just finished cleaning your desk and prepared your to-do list for the next day when you heard your boss thanking the clients, the voices slowly going to the elevators before disappearing. A frown appeared as you heard the coffee machine in the break room run again.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to drink another coffee? You’re going to have a heart attack at this rate,” you rested your handbag on the kitchen counter, your remark startling Sangyeon as his drained gaze was fixated on the black liquid dropping into his cup.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep appearing behind or next to me so suddenly,” he managed to joke and you giggle, a small smile appearing on your face.

His gaze dropped a second on your pretty mouth before going back to look you straight in the eyes.

“Thank you for your help, by the way,” he mumbled, playing with the spoon he had in hand.

“It’s fine, I thought I could help since they were my clients before he arrived and changed everything.”

A new boss meant a restructuring of the different clients and cases between colleagues. Your boss thought you weren’t efficient enough to deal with those people, so he decided to give you some other clients to deal with and let Sangyeon take care of everything.

“I don’t know why he gave them to me,” he stated, dropping a spoonful of sugar in his coffee, “they keep complaining and want you to be in charge again.”

“You should tell them that you are competent enough to take care of their files and will do your best to fulfil the assigned tasks,” you simply shrugged, feeling a rush of pride in your chest at how the clients wanted you instead of Sangyeon as a professional.

“You should really stop with this and maybe go home to wind down,” you pointed at the coffee he had almost finished drinking since you started talking, “it’s not good for you to consume this much caffeine and stay behind this late.”

He shrugged, taking his last sip.

“I don’t have anyone or anything waiting for me at home so it’s better if I just work as much as I can,” you shook your head at his words and patted your blazer, realising that you had forgotten your phone on its charging station on your desk.

“Well I’m exhausted, so I’m going home. See you tomorrow ?” you suggested with a smile, and he nodded, mumbling a small ‘good night’ as his eyes followed the way your hips swayed as you made your way to the elevators.

Your colleague sat back down at his desk, his now empty cup in hand. He stared at the document in front of him, his mind filled with the pretty smiles that you gave him and how tight your skirt was around your ass and hips.

He groaned, shifting in his office seat as heat rushed down his pants. You were so nice and pretty, always ready to help anyone with a smile on your face, your intelligence and patience striking him.

His heart hammered hard in his chest, not knowing if it was because of the desire he felt for you or the 9 cups of coffee he had throughout the day.

The poor man was stressed, to say the least. Every employee was overworked in the office, but your boss being the misogynist king he is, thought that men could handle the pressure better and gave them all the important clients that were once managed by female colleagues.

Genius move, right?

Sangyeon sighed deeply.

Right now, if a genie granted him three wishes, one of them would be to lay on your couch, his face pressed against your chest as your hands would caress his back and massage his head to help him relax. He craved to feel your steady heartbeat against his cheek, your sweet fragrance and fruity shower gel invading his nostrils.

He sighed in contentment at the thought, abruptly shaking his head and slapping his cheeks, trying to get himself out of this lustful reverie.

“Focus, bro,” he mumbled to himself.

He was at work, it was not the time nor the place to have those kinds of thoughts.

Sangyeon tried everything to get you out of his mind, but it was impossible; when he would start reading the contract, he would think of how, a few hours prior, you offered him your help in a heartbeat, your bright smile shone in only his direction and how you were concerned about his unhealthy caffeine consumption. He loved the attention, more than he was willing to admit, but it felt so inappropriate to crush on his own colleague.

Yet, Sangyeon couldn’t get you out of his head. He was always attentively listening when you were giving him advice, presenting things in meetings, and always here to help when you were carrying boxes of paper to restock your printer or heavy binders to a meeting. Always thanking him with a bright smile or complimenting him on his strength and generosity.

He cursed himself as his dick was now painfully hard in his pants, urging him to let it free. Sangyeon deeply sighed, pondering whether what he was about to do was a good idea.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself and unbuckled his belt, dragging his office pants and boxers to the middle of his thigh, his dick finally springing free from the restraining undergarments. He deeply exhaled when his hand wrapped around his length, resting his head on his chair and closing his eyes. It twitched in his hold as he gave it a tight squeeze, grunting and hissing at the feeling.

Sangyeon thickly swallowed the embarrassment that pumped through his veins at how fast you appeared in his mind. He pursed his lips to stifle a moan, a very vivid image of you on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes as you teased the leaking tip of his cock.

“Fuck… Y/N,” he embarrassingly muttered your name in a staggered breath, his rushed hand not faltering in its fast strokes.

He adjusted himself in his seat, lowering the right armrest with his free hand to rest in a more comfortable position to keep his little business going.

Precum was oozing from the tip, giving Sangyeon an easier glide up and down his shaft. The pace he set was now agonisingly slow, mimicking the rhythm that you would probably use if you were sucking him off.

The images were really vibrant in his mind, he knew that he was about to come like he never did before. No matter the porn movie he watched or the ex-girlfriend he fucked in the past, they would probably never give him such a strong orgasm as the mere idea of you, on your knees, with his cock in your pretty mouth, would.

“Oh my god,” Sangyeon's voice was breathy, his face twisting in pleasure as his hips bucked in the air, his fist picking up the pace, squeezing his length as if it were your hand.

He swallowed thickly, preventing himself from moaning your name a second time. He was so aroused by his thoughts, yet ashamed of them, never having thought of a colleague this way.

“Y/N… keep going, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbled under his breath, his words sending warmth to his cock.

He wanted to cum so bad, but his exhausted brain was not enough for him to orgasm.  Sangyeon had automatically switched to the same usual rhythm he uses when he touches himself at home and always needed long minutes before reaching his high.

That’s when he closed his eyes, again, and stopped his movement for a brief second. His mind focused on your voice, your smile, how sweet you sound when you say his name, how that time you touched his arm as you laughed at his dumb joke…

… how pretty you would look with your legs on his shoulders, your hands gripping his biceps, prettily moaning his name as he would sliding his cock in and out of you?

It was as if his imagination had gathered just enough strength to send him the dirtiest thought he could ever imagine to cum. His cock twitched hard in his hold, a warm wave of relief washing over him as he came all over his hand and shirt, not fast enough to move it upward to avoid staining it. He swore and groaned your name, body twitching in overstimulation when the images lingered in his mind, the thought of painting your face with his seeds close to make him cum a second time in a matter of seconds.  

Sangyeon cursed himself for being such a horny idiot, ashamed of the whole situation when he realised the mess he created; the sleeve and bottom part of his shirt were stained with droplets of cum, sprinkled too high for him to be able to tuck and hide it in his pants or under his blazer.

He rushed to the bathroom, washed his hands and grabbed some toilet paper in an attempt to clean the stains on his clothes. He grumbled in annoyance when the stains only grew bigger, giving up and rushing back to his desk. What would have happened if his boss had forgotten something or worse, you witnessed him fantasizing about getting his way with you?

Fortunately, he found the spare t-shirt he kept in case he wanted to go for a run with other colleagues. He put it on, tossed his dirty shirt in his bag and clocked out, driving home with your face in his mind.

The next day, you decided to come to work around 9am, wanting to compensate for the fact that you stayed behind late last night. You waved at Sangyeon with a cute smile when you saw him already sitting at his desk, clearly oblivious to what happened in his office after you had left.

The early birds were already drinking a cup of coffee in the break room when you entered to make yourself a cup of tea. Greeting all of them and chatting with some, Sangyeon appeared right after you, trying to talk to you, but you didn’t notice it.

You slightly frowned when you heard a deep, masculine voice and loud clapping, Sangyeon’s face twisting in discomfort.

“Look how finally decided to show up! Goldilocks, aka Y/N!” your boss exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, a vicious smile decorating his face.

You didn’t like where this was going. At all.

Since Sangyeon was standing between the two of you, your boss stepped to the side to stare at you. The break room went dead silent, some hiding their laughs by sipping on their beverage while others were as surprised as you were.

“Yes?” you calmly replied, dropping your tea bag in your cup.

“Do you think that 9am is a normal time to come to work ?”

“Well, yes, after last nig-“

“Listen,” he cut you, voice becoming menacing, “I don’t care at what time you went home. It could be 6pm or midnight, I do not care. What matters to me is that you play Goldilocks and wake up whenever you want to, just because you feel like it or you’re “tired”. Everyone is tired and overworked, it’s normal in our field, but I have a business to run, okay? We are not here – especially not my lovely Anastasia at the front desk – to take your stupid little phone calls from your stupid little clients when you are not here because you’re playing Sleeping Beauty. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth, or do I need to repeat myself?” he asked, his condescending tone making your blood boil.

“Understood.” You muttered through gritted teeth, hand clutching on your tea cup, resisting the urge to throw the boiling liquid at his face in front of everyone.

This new boss was one particular character. He loved to humiliate people, especially women as if it turned him on. He was only sweet with Anastasia from the front desk, you wondered with your other female colleagues if it was her breast implants that were draining the kindness out of his cock him that he no longer had sympathy for the rest of the women in the office.

You exited the break room as he sat down at a table, acting as if he didn’t just humiliate one of his employees in front of the rest of the floor. Heart hammering in your chest and cheeks on fire, the tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, but you managed to keep them in for the rest of the day, despite the constant appearances of your boss in your office.

His words: he wanted to make sure that Goldilocks hadn’t fallen asleep on her desk, and if she was working properly.

Wonderful. The day was going to be long.

__

5:30pm was the time you wanted to leave to go to the gym for a workout to wind down.

“Y/N? I’m glad you are still there,” your boss said as he invited himself next to you at your desk. You deeply breathed in and stood up, gathering some documents you were working on before putting them in a folder.

“Well, make it quick, I was about to leave. I have a private appointment to attend,” you lied, putting the folder away in your drawer.

“Not so fast,” he said, preventing you from taking your purse, “I need you to proofread this contract before our meeting tomorrow.”

“I don’t have a meeting tomorrow with you,” you spat, knowing your calendar per heart.

“Well, Monica wasn’t feeling so well this afternoon, so she went home and texted me that she forgot to do it. You’re efficient Y/N, I need this done before tomorrow, okay?” he patted you on the shoulder and you took a step back, wanting to defend yourself, but he had already put the file on your desk with such force that you knew that you would be in big trouble if you didn’t do it.  

When he closed the door, your eyes turned glossy, your hand frantically searching your purse for a tissue. Your eyes overflooded, your mascara running down your cheeks as you muted your sobs as best as possible. You didn’t want to attract pity from your colleagues as they walked by.

Sadly for you, Sangyeon happened to pass by and saw through the glass that you were crying. He knocked and softly opened the wooden door, head peeking through.

“Are you okay Y/N?” he asked, his gentle tone making your tears double despite your desperate attempts at keeping them in.

“Yeah, I am,” you lied, wiping your tears with your wet tissue, and throwing it in the trash to take another one as it was already drenched and covered in mascara.

“Don’t lie to me,” Sangyeon rested his binder on your desk, noticing the new file in front of you.

“Is it because of the boss?” you nodded and breathed in, sniffing before entering your password to unlock your computer, again.

“It’s starting to become too much,” you muttered, voice wavering because of the sobs that threatened to escape your mouth, “I can’t stand him and his unfairness anymore.”

“I understand,” you shook your head.

“No, you don’t,” you retorted, making Sangyeon frown. “You don’t understand, he will never treat you like this because you’re a man,” your hand shook as you clicked on some icons on your computer, trying your best to ignore Sangyeon’s pitiful eyes looking at you, “I’m not an inflatable doll with fake implants and Botox lips that laughs at his not-funny jokes, so he hates me and treats me like this.”

Silence filled your office, Sangyeon awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I don’t think it’s because of this,” he argued, and you looked up at him, eyes sending daggers as you stood up.

“Oh yeah? What is it, then?” you questioned, crossing your arms on your chest.

Sangyeon had to force himself not to get distracted by your breasts – that he found perfect, by the way, not fake like Anastasia’s or Monica’s –, resting his hand on the tall chest of drawers behind you.  

“If you are here to tell me that it is because of female sensitivity and my hormones, you can go-”

“Y/N, no,” Sangyeon interrupted you by shaking his head, amused by the silliness of your words, “I don’t think it has to do with your appearance or the fact that you are a woman,” he stopped for a second, “I think he sees you as a threat.”

“A threat?” you confusedly retorted, surprised by his words, “how?”

“I mean, yeah! You are an intelligent, clever, quick-thinking woman. You know so much about the firm, the clients, their habits and our strategies. He still doesn’t know all of this despite him being our boss for more than a year now.”

“Well, if he stopped swooning over Anastasia and Monica, maybe he would know all of this as well!” you exclaimed, frustrated, and Sangyeon smiled, a hand gently rubbing your shoulder as a sign of comfort.

“You know damn well that it’s absolutely not his priority,” he whispered and you heavily sighed, shaking your head from side to side, “maybe he’s trying to push your buttons to make you quit, so you no longer put him in the shade.”

“Well, it’s kind of working,” you mumbled, voice wavering, feeling the tears gather again in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t think like that,” Sangyeon took a step closer, grabbing your face between his hands, the gesture startling you, yet you didn’t step away. His palms were gentle and soft, loving how – despite their warmth – they managed to cool down your burning cheeks.

“He’s not worthy of your tears, do you know that? He doesn’t care if you cry because of him, the only thing that matters to him is if Anastasia will suck his dick at lunch.”

You giggled and his face broke into a smile, proud of his joke, his thumb wiping a strand tear that managed to fall from your eye while laughing.

“I like it better when you smile,” he mumbled and you felt your cheeks heating up, looking down as he took a step back, already missing his hands on your face.

“Come on,” he grabbed his binder again, gesturing to you with the head to follow him, “let’s grab a coffee before tackling this case, okay?”

While you walked back to your desk after having said coffee with your colleague, Sangyeon sat at his, not believing that he managed to touch you without getting a boner. When he saw you cry out of exhaustion behind your computer, he was tempted to drop everything and go fist his boss’ collar to give him a piece of his mind about how he treated you, but he thought it was better – for the two of you – to check on you.

When Sangyeon’s head peeked again through the doorframe a few hours later, you were about halfway done, struggling with the little work Monica had done over the months for this client.

“How is it going?” he asked, and you huffed, taking your head between your hands. The clock was closed to reach 9pm and you were nowhere near to go home.

“Monica barely did anything. Even if I stayed the whole night, I would not be able to fully proofread it. Important documents are missing, I don’t know who she called, or to whom she sent emails, it’s just a lost cause,” you desperately mumbled, Sangyeon entered your office before closing the door behind him.

Your desk lamp was killing your eyes as you showed Sangyeon some data on your computer, hoping he would come up with a solution that you were too tired to think of. His hand was resting on your desk, the other on your chair, close to your shoulder.

“Sadly you’re right, it’s a lost cause,” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, negatively shaking his head. You sighed and saved your progress, standing up. Being exhausted and on heels was not a good combo, making you lose your balance.

Sangyeon was quick to catch your forearm, preventing you from falling.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat and straightened your shirt, blinking a few times, “you’re quite reactive at 9pm after a whole working day,” you joked, and he smiled.

“That’s probably all the coffees I drink,” he joked back, his fingers still gently yet securely wrapped around your wrist.

Your eyes lingered on your shared physical touch, slowly looking up at your colleague. He remained silent, his eyes falling to your lips for a brief second before coming back to your eyes.

Hesitant, Sangyeon brought his free hand to your face, replacing a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture warmed up your body, feeling the goosebumps on the forearm he was still holding.

You were positively responding to his touch.

And he loved it.

Much to your dismay, he retracted his hand, and you looked to the side, his palms now on your shoulders. You had to stifle a moan and prevent your eyes from rolling at the back of your head when Sangyeon positioned himself behind you, his thumbs pressing on the tight knots between your shoulder blades. Inhaling deeply, enjoying the relief, your head lolled to the side and rested against his chest.

You were letting your guard down, an amazing opportunity for Sangyeon to step in.

You audibly gasped and grabbed his hand when you felt his warm lips on the side of your neck, gently kissing and nipping on the skin.

“Sangyeon,” you breathed, fingers flying to his hair, the tension on your shoulders slowly subsiding.

“Mh?” he hummed, too busy kissing your neck to answer you properly. The mere whisper of his name was enough to send electricity through his veins.

“What are you doing? What if someone passes by?” you worriedly asked, dropping your hand from his hair as realisation suddenly hit you.

A bit of self-control would be nice, Y/N. You were at work, damn it, not in a private setting.

“We’re alone in the office, don’t worry,” he mumbled against your warm skin, humming the remaining scent of your perfume, “the janitor already left, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

His voice was low, reassuring, making you give in. Sangyeon wrapped his arm around your waist, pushing your back flush against his chest as he continued to kiss your neck gently.

But his actions had riled you to the point that you could no longer content yourself with only neck kisses and a back hug. You needed more of him, his attentive and caring attitude did little to nothing to tame the growing crush that you had on him since he started at the firm.

Turning around in his hold, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips on his in a fierce kiss. Sangyeon hummed in surprise against your kiss but immediately gave in, his hands resting on your hips, drawing circles with his thumbs on your skirt. Your hands explored his broad, clad back, getting wetter at how well you could feel his muscles under the fabric.

“I need you,” you managed to mumble as you pulled away, Sangyeon’s hand travelling from your hips to your neck at your words, pulling you into another kiss that was way more intense and rushed than the previous one.

Tongues fought for dominance, teeth clashed and collided against one another, hands became adventurous, and the atmosphere suddenly changed in your office as you let desire and need replace the despair and exhaustion you both felt.

Sangyeon’s hands came back to your lower back, gently tucking away the shirt from your skirt, sneaking under the fabric to feel your warm skin. You could tell that he wanted more, so you took one of his hands in yours and made it land on your ass, feeling Sangyeon smile into the kiss and give it a harsh slap. The sting was delicious, making you whine and bite his lower lip when he did it again.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to get this close to you,” Sangyeon pulled away, his warm breath hitting your lips, his fingers unzipping the back of your pencil skirt.

“Are you serious? I never thought a guy like you would be interested in me,” you admitted, unbuttoning his office shirt.

“I mean, how could I not be? You’re gorgeous, intelligent, so nice and always so damn helpful,” he effortlessly sat you on your desk, your heels falling from your feet in the process, punctuating each compliment with a kiss, slowly making his way to the valley of your breasts.

“Have you seen our female colleagues? I wouldn’t even be surprised if I got picked last,” you mumbled and Sangyeon scoffed, slapping the side of your hip, close to your ass.

“Enough with the negative self-talk,” he grunted, his arms on either side of you to look at you deep in the eyes. “Now, will the prettiest girl in this office let me remove her shirt to show her how enough and how beautiful she is to me?” you couldn’t help but giggle, face warming up at his silly request.

Sangyeon wasted no time and undid your shirt buttons, taking in the sight of your breasts covered in a beautiful, white lace bra.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your breast, shivers exploding in your chest. You were ready to unclasp it, but Sangyeon stopped you, wanting to admire them a few seconds more before allowing you to drop your bra on your keyboard.

The imprint of his hard cock was apparent in his office pants, your hand reaching to touch it as he was caressing your chest. Sangyeon moaned, mouth diving to suck on one of your nipples, his other hand playing with the other, teasing and squeezing the soft flesh.

“Sangyeon please, don’t stop,” you breathed, spreading your legs to invite him in, which he immediately did, your core pressed flush against his lower abdomen. You whined and fisted his hair, keeping him close as you felt his dick press against your stomach, Sangyeon grunting against your nipple at your tug.

“You have such pretty breasts,” he mumbled, his tongue giving your nipples one last flicker before his mouth went lower. You whined as you felt warmth pool in your panties, Sangyeon busy grabbing your legs and spreading them apart.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered, taking your body in, “spread them nice and wide for me.”

Once he was kissing the lace of your underwear, he looked up, silently asking for your consent to go further. You took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly acknowledging what was happening.

You were going to fuck your colleague.

Were you scared? No. Impatient? Hell yes. Excited? More than anyone could imagine.

Your boss and his stupid to-proofread contract were long forgotten, Sangyeon’s hands and mouth doing wonders to get your head off of everything. It was even more effective than a workout session at the gym.

The tearing of your tights got you out of your thoughts, watching Sangyeon smirk as he toyed with your undergarments, pressing a digit on the wet patch as he kissed the inner part of your thighs.

“I can’t believe you are already this wet for me and I barely did anything,” you embarrassingly looked away, and he pulled the damp panties to the side, taking in how beautiful your pussy was.

“So pretty,” he mumbled and you clenched around nothing at his praise, Sangyeon’s hands wrapping around your thighs as he wasted no time and dove his tongue between your folds.

“Sangyeon!” you exclaimed, a hand flying to your mouth at how loudly you yelled his name. Sangyeon was chuckling between your legs, loving how sensitive you were for him.

Your hand flew to his hair as you moaned out his name, feeling his tongue reaching parts between your folds that you never knew existed. His nose teased your clit, making your heart hammer in your chest faster. He was so good at eating you out, that you started to wonder if he had lots of experience to be this good.

Sangyeon’s tongue prevented you from wandering too deep in your thoughts as it focused on your most sensitive parts, making you cry out his name when you felt two fingers tease your glistering slit.

“Please Sangyeon,” you begged and he hummed against your pussy, gently inserting two fingers inside you. The stretch felt so good, his digits searching for your sweet spot each time he rutted them inside you. After a few strokes, when he realised that he had found it – thanks to a strangled moan falling from your pretty lips –, he focused on it like he was on a mission.

“Do I make you feel good, my pretty girl?” he asked from between your legs, his warm breath hitting your folds, his fingers still going in and out of you as he teasingly licked your clit.

“Y-Yeah, fuck!” you cried in a high-pitched moan, Sangyeon maintaining eye contact as the squelching sound of your pussy filled the silence, your hips bucking up against his mouth as his cock hardened at your helplessness.

Removing his digits for a short moment, you whined from the emptiness. You heard a zip but paid no mind to it, too lost in your own pleasure to care.

Sangyeon, now on his knees in front of you, had reached for his cock in his pants, stroking his shaft with his hand coated in your juices, your moans only increasing the lust he felt for you.

“Fuck Sangyeon, I’m so close,” you mumbled, hands gripping the edge of the desk, a foot resting on your desk while your other leg was resting on his shoulder, granting him more access to your core.

“Cum for me, baby. I wanna see how beautiful you look coming on my tongue,” he whispered while kissing the top of your pussy, right above your clit, before diving back to make you cum. He abandoned his hard cock to trigger your g-spot again, your cries indicating to him that you were close to reaching your high.

And it didn’t disappoint. In a loud cry of his name, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. Your core squeezed his fingers, barely letting him move them inside you and your legs shook around him, your face contorting in pleasure as you fisted his hair, keeping him close to your pussy. He lapped at your juices like a starved man, his fingers teasing your clit to make you fully ride your orgasm.

“Sangyeon,” you moaned out of breath as he proudly looked at his glistening fingers. Your nipples hardened at the sight of a satisfied Sangyeon licking his digits with a smile as if he had just finished eating a tasteful dessert.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he asked while helping you sit up as you had laid down on your desk while orgasming, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it off his broad shoulders.

He kissed your lips, letting you taste yourself as your tongues waltzed together, your arms wrapping around his neck, caressing his shoulders as you were still weak from your orgasm.

“And you look so handsome when you’re eating me out, you know that?” you imitated him and he smiled, his mouth parting against yours in a breathy sigh as you reached for his cock in between your bodies.

It was even better than he had imagined the day before. It felt different than his hand, he even dared to say it felt way better. You used your two hands to stroke his shaft, one of them sometimes teasing his balls.

While looking at him, you gently spat into your palm before bringing it to his cock, Sangyeon throwing his head back at the sight.

“It feels so good, Y/N, keep going please,” you smiled, blushing at his praise, loving how handsome he looked and how hot he sounded while grunting and bucking his hips in your hand. The tip of his cock was angry, red, precum leaking from the tip as it mixed with your spit.

You quickened your pace just to tease him, only for Sangyeon to grab your wrist to slow you down.

“Stop, stop darling, I wanna last,” he chuckled before kissing you, pulling you to him. Your breasts were pressed flush against his chest, loving how warm his skin felt against your hard nipples.

“Do we have condoms?” he mumbled against your lips, and you thought about it for a second, quickly getting your sanitary pouch from your purse.

“We can still get one in Anastasias’ drawer if this one is expired,” you mumbled as Sangyeon studied it, ripping it open once he saw it was still up to date.

“No need,” Sangyeon smirked and rolled it down his shaft, throwing the wrapping next to your bra as your core clenched around the sight of his member.

Leaning on your elbows, you watched him and smiled, admiring the view his broad shoulders and abs were offering you. He did the same with you, checking your breasts and pretty face out while stroking his cock.

“I think we both like what we see, right?” you giggled, and he nodded, leaning forward to kiss you on the lips, to which you immediately responded. His cock rested against your stomach, your heart skipping a beat at how big he was.

Slightly pulling away, Sangyeon rested his forehead against yours, tapping and sliding his cock a few times against your wet core, a prominent vein deliciously grazing against your clit. You whimpered at the jolts of electricity it sent in your body, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

“Oh my god baby, you’re so tight,” he grunted, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth as you tried to keep looking deep in his brown orbits, but to no avail.

He was about halfway in, the stretch making you throw your head back, arms weakening under the weight of the pleasure Sangyeon was giving you. You moaned out his name, feeling full as his hips rested against your thighs.

Both out of breath at the new sensation, he gently grabbed you by the throat to press his lips against yours, your hands flying to his hair to prevent you from falling back on your desk.

“You’re so big,” you groaned and he smirked, two of his digits pushing your lips apart to let your tongue coat them in spit before bringing them down where your bodies met, teasing your clit in sharp circles.

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N,” he muttered, getting lost in the warmth your pussy was engulfing his cock bit by bit till he was flushed against you.

“Move, please,” he obliged, sliding his cock in and out of you at a steady pace. Your breasts bounced at each thrust, Sangyeon’s mouth diving to litter them with love bites.

Your moans filled your closed office, your nails scratching the skin of his shoulders as Sangyeon’s mouth continued its assault on your breasts. He picked up the pace, hand still steady around your throat to prevent you from squirming too much, making sure you stared into his eyes. High-pitched moans of his name fell from your lips, brows furrowing in pleasure as his dick brushed nonstop against all the spots that made you see stars, the reduction of oxygen increasing your blissful state.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” he breathlessly asked, his hands leaving your throat to travel up and down your body, mouth vividly kissing every inch of your skin. You whined, head clouded with the feeling of his dick throbbing into you, addictingly rubbing against your soft walls that wanted to trap him forever. 

He wouldn’t mind, though.

“Fuck, yeah it does,” you managed to mutter, your words being cut by the noises of Sangyeon’s hips harshly colliding against your thighs.

Sangyeon looked down, his dick twitching at how it disappeared inside your core. He enjoyed the sight, rubbing circles on your clit. The little whimpers of pleasure you were trying to stifle only encouraged him to keep going, wanting to hear again how pretty you sounded when you cum.

He briefly stilled inside you, grabbing one of your legs and lifting it on his shoulder, kissing your tight-covered ankle. The new angle allowed him to reach deeper and further into you, his free hand grabbing you by the back of your head to prevent you from falling as your nails dug dents into the skin of his forearms you were clutching onto in utter pleasure.

“Sangyeon, please,” you begged in a cry, eyes imploring god knows what. He kissed your lips to silence you, hand gently stroking your cheek. “I’m so close,” you whispered when he pulled away, chest deeply heaving as Sangyeon picked up the pace.  

Your body started feeling hot, indicating that you were closer to your release. Sangyeon felt you clench hard around his cock, giving him the signal as well, your moans increasing in volume as his hand came back in contact with your clit, rubbing it and gently slapping it to bring you closer to your peak.

“Come for me beautiful, let it all go around me,” he mumbled against your lips before capturing them in a quick kiss, his thrusts intensifying in sharpness, the new pace sending you over the edge in a loud scream of pleasure. His name and profanities fell off your lips as your legs shook, Sangyeon now gently sliding his cock in and out of you, enjoying with a smile the beautiful sight that it was to see you cum around him.

When you came back to your senses, still sensitive from your intense orgasm, you felt a mouth kissing the warm skin from one collarbone to another, warm hands on your hips.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, Y/N,” he breathed against your chest, your hand pushing some strands of hair away from his eyes.

“You already said that,” you giggled, and he chuckled, gently biting your earlobe, and making you squeal.

“I know, I just can’t get enough of it,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss.

You got lost in the kiss for a brief moment, before realising something.

“Did you cum?” you questioned, hand resting on his cheek.

“It’s okay, you needed it more than-“

You sat up and kissed him, seizing the opportunity of him being distracted with your kiss to push him into your office chair, dropping to your knees.

Your tights did little to no job of shielding your knees from the cold tile flooring, but you didn’t care. You had orgasmed twice in one night, the least you could do was lend him a hand – or your mouth – to help him reach his peak as well.

When Sangyeon looked down, he almost came just by seeing you on your knees in front of him. In a swift motion, you ripped away the condom from his hard length, your hand at the base of it while you kissed your way up to the tip.

“Y/N, please don’t tease me,” Sangyeon gripped the armrests, and you smiled, your mouth wrapping around his cock, your tongue curling slowly around it, taking him in as best as you could.

Spit rolled down his length, your hand stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hips bucked, making you gag, your colleague whispering a soft apology as you pulled away, a string of saliva linking your pretty lips to his cock, thumb pressing on the prominent vein wrapped around his length.

You looked up at him with lustful eyes, hollowing your cheeks, teasing the slit and sucking around the tip like you would do with a lollipop, making Sangyeon shudder in pleasure.

Without warning, your mouth swallowed his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat and its weight on your tongue, his balls heavy in your palm. You stroked the wrinkly skin, earning a low grunt from Sangyeon as you kept on bobbing your head up and down.

“Oh yeah, Y/N, keep going. You're really good at this- fuck!” Sangyeon whispered, his fantasy slowly becoming a reality. His face distorted in pleasure looked down, your eyes meeting as you kept pleasuring him. He threw his head back, his hands landing in your hair as he gathered it in a messy ponytail, wanting to keep seeing your pretty face as you sucked him off.

Your jaw started hurting, like your knees, but you kept going, wanting to satisfy him as best as he satisfied you. He would never tell you, but just the fact that you let him kiss you and touch would have already been enough for him. But now, Sangyeon was not going to complain to have his dick deep in your mouth, just like he had imagined it the night before.

The moans you let out while he was fucking you came back to his mind, adding another source of pleasure to your mouth wrapped around his cock. He felt his high coming and you did too, his girthy length in your mouth slightly increasing, urging you to pick up the pace.

“Y/N, keep going, ohhh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” he warned, and you pulled away, wrapping your hand around it, keeping the same steady pace.

Sangyeon swiftly removed your hand to stroke himself, his other free hand grabbing your chin to prevent you from moving. You drew your tongue out and that was the last straw; thick, white ropes of cum landed on your face and dropped to your chest in the following second, your name escaping from Sangyeon’s lips in heavy sighs.

Getting back on your feet, you smiled at him, sitting on his lap. He slightly shuddered as your core grazed against his still-sensitive cock, his chest heaving at the force of his release.

“Thank you,” you timidly mumbled and he smiled, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

The lust had died down, the atmosphere now becoming soft and quiet, the stillness of the night engulfing you in a warm hug.

“You don’t have to thank me for nothing,” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around you as he slid the chair closer to your desk, grabbing a few tissues to clean your chest and chin.

“I could thank you for plenty-“

“You don’t have to. I did it because I like you, okay?” Sangyeon mumbled and it was your turn to smile, goosebumps rising on your skin as he kissed your collarbone.

“Let’s call in sick tomorrow,” he proposed, and you gasped, ready to protest, “I wanna take you out properly.”

“But the meeting-”

“Fuck the boss and his fucking meeting. He can deal with the work on his own,” Sangyeon grunted, looking at you with tender eyes as you tamed the strands of his hair that you tugged on.

“I’m scared that he will humiliate me again because I didn’t do the work he asked me for,” you confessed, taking a deep breath. Sangyeon’s hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at him.

“He'll hear from me if he makes another inappropriate comment to you in front of everyone. Let me drive you home now,” he answered, kissing your lips before letting you slide off his lap to get dressed.  

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 4) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

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

Chapter 4

You think about Tenko more now, but you’re allowed to – he’s your patient, and if he was your patient at the clinic, you’d expect to see him for a follow-up on the four gunshot wounds you cleaned and dressed. You’re allowed to think about him, so you think about him. You think about him a lot.

The thoughts take two directions. One is just wondering about him – how he’s feeling, how he spends his days, what he’s thinking about, what he thinks of you, whether he’s thought about you at all. The other is thinking about the situation he’s in. His parents and grandparents and his sister are dead. He’s been missing for fifteen years. He’s got a quirk and he’s a villain, ambitious and strategic enough to target UA High and escape alive, albeit badly injured. His guardian is a cloud of mist in a suit with some kind of split personality. And there’s someone else in his world – two someone elses. The doctor he referenced, who wouldn’t help him, and the one he calls Sensei, who gave him his new name and a hand to wear over his face and set him up to fail.

You think about Tenko a lot, but you can’t think about him all the time, because now that you’re a nurse, you’re twice as busy as you were before. The doctors expect more of you, and so do the other nurses – and so do the MAs and CNAs and high school students who are starting their apprenticeships, since you now have three years’ experience to go with your reputation for smoothing things over with difficult patients. Your friends keep you busy, too. They might call Kazuo to find out if something’s wrong with them, but they call you to find out what to do about it.

“You need to get a scan,” you say to Yoshimi for probably the fifth time. “I know you don’t want to –”

“It’s weird!”

“Not any weirder than whatever Yoji does when the two of you are at second base,” you say, and in the background of the call, someone snickers. If you had to guess, you’d say it’s Mitsuko – she has the guts to bully Yoshimi into making the call, combined with the brass balls to feel comfortable eavesdropping. “It’s called a mammogram. You’d have to start getting them at some point anyway, just like we all do. It’s just to make sure there’s nothing weird going on.”

“Stop it. You’re freaking her out for no reason.” Yoji’s there, too. “It’s probably just an STD.”

You’re stunned into silence for a second by the sheer classlessness of saying that about one’s own girlfriend, but you bounce back fast. “First of all, they’re called STIs, genius. Secondly, there’s not an STI on the planet that gives you nipple discharge. Yoshimi, get the scan. I’ll go with you if you want. Just get it done.”

“Can I do it at your clinic?”

“Uh –” You glance at the Imaging queue. Things look quiet, but you can’t count on that to last – but if you report Yoshimi’s symptoms, which include soreness, nipple discharge, and what she describes as a weird rash, you’re pretty sure the doctor on call will bump her to the head of the line. “Yeah, come in now. I can’t stick around after my shift, though. I have stuff to do tonight.”

“Ooh, stuff. Let me see –” There’s some rustling, which you can only assume is Mitsuko grabbing the phone. “Is stuff tall, dark, handsome, way too serious, and currently working as a sidekick?”

“That would be stuff,” you admit. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just grabbing a drink after our shifts.”

For the first time since you and Kazuo broke up, you have a date, and it’s Kazuo’s fault. Or maybe it’s you and your friends’ fault, because you decided to throw Kazuo a twentieth birthday party and invited a few of his friends from UA. One of those friends is Sugimura Hiroki, who fits perfectly with your type of dark-haired boys who want to be heroes and who’s so painfully shy that it took him six beers and the entire party to talk to you. You were sort of weirded out by that. You’re not very intimidating, and you spent the first half of the conversation trying to figure out if he knew you were quirkless, since you learned the hard way that it’s something you need to disclose up front. But the two of you eventually worked your way around to the point, which was that Sugimura wants to get to know you better, and he tripped over his tongue so badly that you finally just asked him out to end the suspense.

It’s taken you a while to actually schedule the date, but tonight’s the night, and you’re sort of anxious about it. Luckily, work is busy enough to keep you distracted. Your lunch break ends while Mitsuko is still going into increasingly nasty speculations about Sugimura’s physical attributes, and you hang up the phone without saying goodbye.

There’s a message waiting for you on your computer, from the front desk. FOF. Can you take him?

It’s not Tenko. You know Tenko wouldn’t come here again. You send the same message you did when it was him. How F are we talking?

Jumpy, talking to himself, chainsmoking. He’s in costume.

“In costume” could literally mean that the patient’s wearing a costume, but it’s also code for when the front desk thinks the patient’s a villain. You’re used to dealing with villains by now. Send him back.

When the knock on the door comes, you’re ready and waiting, and the CNA ushers in a tall man in a black-and-grey bodysuit – so “in costume” was literal this time around – and a paper bag over his head. You’re momentarily transfixed by the paper bag, and more so when you realize that he’s bringing a lighted cigarette to his mouth while wearing something highly flammable on his face. The CNA shuts the door and bolts. You face your patient and introduce yourself. “Have a seat if you feel comfortable doing so. What brings you in today?”

“I’m not – whole.”

That’s concerning. “Are you injured?” Your concern grows when he gestures at his face. “It would really help if I could see the injury. Can you take the bag off?”

He shakes his head. Instead he reaches into his pocket and produces a torn full-face mask. You look at him, then at him, putting the pieces together. “How do you feel right now?”

He doesn’t answer – maybe can’t answer – so you default to the face chart you use when little kids aren’t able to express how they feel in words. Your patient points to scared, stressed, anxious, angry. Then he throws in happy, possibly to mess with you, or to distract you from the fact that the first four emotions indicate that he’s ready to snap at any second. “How about this?” you ask, after thinking it over. “I can ask the doctor to give you something that will help you calm down –”

“Please!” The patient bursts out. Drug-seeking? “No, I don’t need it, sister! I’m so calm it’s hard to believe.”

“Okay, then we’ll just have it here in case you decide you want it. As an option,” you say, keeping your voice smooth and calm. “Either way, this is a quiet place to wait. You’re safe in here with me. And if you want, I can sew up your mask for you. Would that help?”

“You can do that?”

“Easily,” you say. “Can I see it for a second? I need to make sure I grab the right thread.”

The patient hands the mask over, which is a good sign. You’ve established at least a little bit of trust. You examine the mask and decide that you’ll need the thinnest-gauge needle and thread you have. “I can definitely fix this,” you tell the patient. “It might look a little rough, but it’ll cover you up like it did before. And it should last until you get where you’re going.”

The patient nods. You stand up. “I’m going to get some supplies, and a little anxiety medication if you decide you want it. I’ll be right back, okay? Just wait here.”

The patient nods again. Given how labile his mood is, you need to be fast about this, and get back before he gets upset or decides to leave. You step out the door and shut it behind you, heading for the supply closet, but you’re waylaid on the way there by one of the doctors. “We need you up front. Now.”

“I can’t. I have a patient, and he’s –”

“I don’t care. We’ve got a hero coming to visit, and we need somebody to keep things calm,” the doctor says. Shit. “Figure out what they want, get them as little of it as you can get away with, and get them out of here.”

“Which hero?”

The doctor shakes his head. Great. “Just hurry.”

You can’t go just yet. “My patient’s got a lot of anxiety and he’s in costume. I need him to stay calm. Can you –”

“2mg diazepam. I’ll put it in the chart.” The doctor unlocks one of the medicine cabinets, extracts a prefilled dosage cup, and hands it to you. “Go.”

Diazepam is long-acting. Hopefully long-acting enough to keep your patient quiet while you get rid of the hero. You skitter back down the hall with the dosage cup and hand it over to the patient, along with a tiny bottle of water to wash it down. “I’ll be right back. Just finding the right thread.”

The patient downs the pill dry, which is both good and bad for you. You shut the door again and head for the lobby. You don’t make it there. A cloud of black mist boils up around you, swallowing you whole.

By the time your feet hit the familiar wooden floor of the bar, you’re already out of patience. “No. Send me back right now.”

“Shigaraki Tomura has need of you. You will assist him.”

“Not right now I won’t. You snatched me from work,” you say. You’re facing the wall and the All Might poster again, and you don’t want to turn around. If you see Tenko, it’ll make it harder to say no. “If I go missing, people will notice. Is he dying?”

“No,” Kurogiri says.

“Is he in imminent danger of dying?”

“No.”

“Then send me back,” you say. If Tenko’s asked Kurogiri to get you, it means he needs medical assistance – or follow-up. You’ve needed to follow up anyway. “I can come back later.”

“No, I need you right now!”

“How much later?” Kurogiri asks, ignoring Tenko’s protest.

You think it over. You can dispense with the hero situation quickly, stitch your patient’s mask, and sneak out of work early. They’ll have to give you the emergency time off. You’ve never asked before in three years of working there. “Ninety minutes.”

“That’s too long. Kurogiri, don’t let her leave!”

“Ninety minutes. I’ll be in the alley behind the clinic.” You ignore Tenko, too, in favor of focusing on Kurogiri. He’s the one who decides if you leave or not. “All right?”

The mist wells up around you again, which counts as a yes. You land on your feet in the hallway, reorient yourself, and head for the lobby again. Tenko wants you again – needs you, your stupid brain corrects – but he’s going to have to wait for you to sort this out.

The hero in the lobby is Uwabami, the Snake Hero, and she’s got two sidekicks with her. No, students. You recognize one of them from your limited viewing of the UA Sports Festival and feel a spike of guilt run through you. She’s from Class 1-A. The same class Tenko tried to kill.

You don’t need to think about that, and you don’t need to feel guilty, because you didn’t do anything to her. You force yourself to focus. Uwabami wouldn’t have brought high school students here if she was doing any kind of investigating, which means your patient and any others who might be nervous around law enforcement are probably safe. The question of why she’s here still remains. You step forward. “Welcome to Yokohama Free Clinic South. What can we help you with today?”

“We’re on patrol,” Uwabami says. “My interns gave some feedback that our patrol involved a little too much publicity –”

The students look unrepentant. Good for them. “So we’re engaging in some down-to-earth patrolling,” Uwabami continues. “Tell us about how heroes support your clinic.”

Heroes don’t support your clinic. Most heroes strongly dislike the free clinic network, and the feeling is mutual, for a bunch of reasons you’re more than willing to articulate. Then you think better of it. Picking a fight with a hero in front of hero students is a bad move if you want to get out of here any time soon, and if you’re going to keep helping Tenko, you need to stay completely off the heroic radar. You focus on the students instead. “You’re on internships, right? They’re supposed to show you what life will be like as a hero.”

“Yes,” the girl who’s not from 1-A says. “They’re supposed to.”

“We have a program like that here, too,” you say. You gesture for them to come forward, and they desert their supervising hero at high speed. “A lot of our nurses and techs started working here in high school. Let me introduce you.”

You’re on much more solid ground talking about this. This clinic and this program saved your ass – without their sponsorship, you’d never have been able to get around your quirklessness as a barrier to nursing school, and you started getting on-the-job clinical training while most other nursing students were stuck in the classroom. You catch yourself evangelizing a little bit, but you don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to do. You’re proud of the work you do as part of the clinic. It’s nice to get to talk about it.

You clear the hero students out in half an hour, hoping you’ve impressed them even a little bit, then hurry back to your patient. The diazepam’s kicked in nicely, and he chatters away to you while you stitch the tear in his mask. You learn that his name is Jin, or Bubaigawara, or Twice, which you’d guess are his first name, his family name, and his villain name, in that order. He doesn’t say how his mask got torn and you don’t ask, but you send him on his way in a better mood than before. “Thanks, sister,” he says on his way out the door. “You could be worse. You’re a saint!”

Different tone, different pitch, completely different meaning between the first sentence and the second. It reminds you of Kurogiri. You know enough villains now that you can compare them to one another. You shake your head, bemused, then head back inside. Time to guilt-trip your boss into letting you leave two hours early.

Your guilt-trip is successful, mostly because of how you handled the hero situation, but as you’re trying to sneak out, Yoshimi arrives for her scan. After you cajoled her into the office, you can’t abandon her to some random tech. You do abandon Mitsuko in the waiting room, though – she says the words “nipple discharge” as loudly as possible, then starts picking on the scant amount of makeup you did for your date. You don’t feel bad at all for leaving her behind.

Yoshimi’s scan goes quickly, and just like you feared, it nets her a follow-up appointment at the main branch of the free clinic tomorrow. Tomorrow’s your day off. You promise her you’ll go with her – you, and not Mitsuko or Yoji – then talk the doctor into sending her home with a dose of a different anti-anxiety medication than the one you got for Twice. Then you check your phone for the time. Almost ninety minutes exactly. You race out to the alley.

The mist engulfs you almost the instant you set foot in the alley, and you’re in the bar a moment later, facing Kurogiri. Tenko’s nowhere to be found, and before you can ask the question, Kurogiri turns and sets off through a doorway, deeper into the recesses of the building. You follow him, wondering if this counts as being taken to a secondary location. Or maybe the bar counts as the secondary location, even though you’ve been here before. Either way, you’ve listened to way too many of Mitsuru’s true-crime podcasts.

Kurogiri leads you into an absolutely filthy room. The floor is covered – empty wrappers, empty cans, old newspapers and magazines, plastic cases for game disks and chips. You have a bad feeling about who lives here, and when Kurogiri clears his throat and speaks up, you’re proven right. “Shigaraki Tomura. I have brought the girl.”

The only semi-organized spot in the room is a desk with two monitors on it, a keyboard in front of it, and Tenko slumped down with his head pillowed on one arm. He looks up, and for a split second, you can see that he’s happy even behind the hand. Then his face turns bright red and his expression twists into a snarl. “I told you not to bring her in here! Get out!”

You don’t need to be told twice. You duck out the door and retreat about twenty feet down the hallway, listening as Kurogiri tries to placate Tenko. “You asked for her to be brought to you immediately, not for me to summon you when she arrived. I followed your orders to the letter.”

“I didn’t want –” Tenko breaks off, swears. Then he mumbles something, and Kurogiri chuckles. “Don’t laugh at me!”

You check your phone. You aren’t supposed to meet Sugimura until eight, but you’ve got no idea how long this particular encounter is going to run. You might need to tell him you’re running late. You’ve just sent the text and tucked your phone away when Kurogiri reappears. “We will return to the bar,” he says. “Shigaraki Tomura awaits you there.”

So Kurogiri warped him to the bar. You wonder what that was all about. Was Tenko embarrassed that you saw how filthy his room was, or just embarrassed that you saw his room at all? Or did he change his mind about wanting you here? The last thought upsets you. You follow Kurogiri back into the bar and find Tenko sitting at the counter. It’s an improvement from the last time you saw him, when he was sprawled out and bleeding from four gunshot wounds, but this time he’s got his arms crossed, clearly pissed about something. His face is still red behind the hand. There’s a bloodstained bandage taped to his right shoulder.

A pile of supplies appears on the bar as you come closer. “What happened this time?”

“It wouldn’t stop bleeding.” Tenko uncrosses his left arm to gesture at the wound. “This is the fourth one I’ve used.”

If he’s gone through four bandages, it must be pretty deep. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Two hours,” Kurogiri says. “Shigaraki Tomura sent me to retrieve you immediately.”

“Can you fix it or not?” Tenko snaps.

“I need to see it first,” you say. You come a few steps closer, sit down facing Tenko on the barstool next to his, and reach for the bandage. He doesn’t stop you from unwrapping it, and you detour to glove up before you start peeling the fabric of his shirt back from the wound. It’s oozing blood rapidly. It’s jagged at the edges, and deep – if you suctioned the blood away, you’d be looking at exposed muscle, and you’re so horrified by the fact that Tenko’s been badly hurt again that you ask a question you shouldn’t. “How did this happen?”

“Hero Killer,” Tenko says, and your stomach lurches. “I thought he might be useful, but he’s just like the rest of them. Obsessed with the precious Symbol of Peace.”

You don’t know very much about the Hero Killer, except that he kills or cripples heroes and he’s not in Yokohama any longer. Tenko’s still ranting. “Why can’t anybody shut up about All Might? Don’t they know –”

“That he’s not gonna fuck them?” you interrupt, and Tenko nearly chokes. “I guess they can dream.”

Tenko’s expression is contorting behind the hand. You’re pretty sure it’s not the result of your explorations of the wound, because you’re not touching it. You watch, concerned, as his shoulders shake and his mouth twitches, until awkward, rusty laughter finally issues from his mouth.

You always try to make people laugh. You’ve been in the habit since you were little. It’s an effective strategy for defusing tension, whether the joke is funny or not, and your jokes are usually at least kind of funny. But you always liked making Tenko laugh when you were kids. You were always just a little prouder of that than you were with other people. Tenko made people smile all the time. He deserved for somebody to make him laugh, too.

Tenko’s laughter is brief and uneven, because he’s trying to get it under control. “Stop it,” he finally snaps at you. His mouth is still twitching. “It’s serious.”

“Right,” you agree. But you can’t resist another joke. “It would be a novel strategy. If you can’t beat the Symbol of Peace, make him unfuckable instead.”

“I can beat him,” Tenko says, but his voice is strained to the point of snapping, and his shoulders are shaking again. “Can you fix my arm or not?”

“I can fix it,” you say, “but I’ll need a suture kit. And I’ll either need to cut your sleeve or you’ll need to take your shirt off.”

“I’m not taking my shirt off.” Tenko’s face is red again. “It’s ruined anyway. Just cut it.”

You cut his sleeve open from the neckline and peel it back, then go looking through the medical supplies. Kurogiri took your advice about additions to their supplies, and nothing turned up missing at work, which means they honored your request to steal from someone else. You’ve got local anesthetic this time, which is good, because you need it. You start numbing the edges of the wound, asking every so often if Tenko can feel what you’re doing. When he stops saying yes, you open the suture kit.

It’s a bit weird, but putting stitches in is one of your favorite parts of the job. You can get in the zone with it, even when the patient wants to talk. Tenko wants to talk. “People talk about the League of Villains out there. Don’t they?” he asks. You nod. “What do they say?”

“Um –” You’re not sure this is an answer Tenko wants to hear. “They’re wondering why the attack on UA happened.”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Like, if there was a message behind it,” you elaborate. You need to be careful, with the stitches and with this line of thought. “More than just killing All Might, because lots of villains want to do that. If there was a message, it didn’t get out. The police and UA haven’t shared much information – not even how the breach happened in the first place.”

Tenko scoffs. “They don’t have a clue. They won’t see it coming the next time we hit them, either.”

He’s planning something else. Your blood runs cold, and for a moment you’re torn about whether or not to ask. Tenko makes the decision for you. “What else do they say about the League?”

“Not very much, otherwise,” you say, and Tenko swears. “There are a lot of villains, just like there are a lot of heroes. People talk about the ones they see the most of.”

“Which heroes do you talk about?”

“I don’t really talk about heroes.” You tie off a stitch, trim the thread to the appropriate length, and take another. “One of my friends has this nasty crush on Endeavor, so we talk about him sometimes, but otherwise – no.”

“Your friend has a crush on Endeavor,” Tenko repeats.

“Like I said. Nasty.”

You’re conscious of Tenko staring at you, and you will your face not to heat up under his gaze. You don’t even know why he’s staring, and you’ve got stitches to do, so it doesn’t matter. Your phone buzzes in your pocket – probably Sugimura, probably confirming your date. A date you’re not sure you want to go on anymore. Did you ever really want to go on it? Or did you just say yes because –

“You look weird.”

You look up from the stitches, startled. “Huh?”

“You look weird,” Tenko repeats. “Your clothes are different and you’ve got stuff on your face.”

Tenko and Mitsuko feel the same about your makeup skills, apparently. “Sorry.”

“Why do you look like that?” Tenko presses. You tie off his next stitch. “Are you going on a date or something?”

You answer without thinking about whether it’s the smart thing to do. “Yes.”

It’s quiet for a long stretch of seconds. “Go on your date, then,” Tenko says. His voice is flat. “I don’t need you.”

It stings. You don’t want it to, but it does, and you look down at the cut on his shoulder so he won’t see it on your face. “You still need a few more stitches. At least let me finish them.”

“No. Get out.” Tenko jerks out of your grip. You barely have enough time to cut the hanging thread on your last stitch. “I don’t want you here. Kurogiri –”

“Shigaraki Tomura, I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Tenko swats at you open-handed and you leap backwards. “Get out! I don’t –”

You don’t hear the end of that sentence. Kurogiri warps you away too fast, and possibly saves your life. He drops you back in the alley behind the clinic, holding half a suture kit and still wearing bloodstained gloves. You peel them off and dump them into the garbage, furious with yourself. You shouldn’t have said that. You shouldn’t have talked about your life at all, and above all else, you should have remembered that you were talking to a villain, not your best friend – that whatever’s left of your best friend isn’t enough. He’s angry with you, and he’s been having you followed. Just how angry is he? Angry enough to hurt you? Or angry enough to never talk to you again?

You’re sickened and more than a little scared to realize that you’re more frightened of the latter possibility than the former. It’s entirely possible that you’ve never been in less of a mood to go on a date.

But you do go on the date, because you said you would, and it’s – fine. There’s nothing to complain about, but there’s nothing to be excited about, either. You and Sugimura hug to say goodbye, and you promise to text each other about setting up another one, and then you walk home. Mitsuko texts you, wanting details, or DETAILS, but you’ve got nothing to share. It was just a date, and no matter how many times you try to tell yourself otherwise, you’re angry about it.

Not because of Sugimura asking you out, not because you agreed, not because you went. Because you told Tenko and gave him a reason to get rid of you. Why does this keep happening? Why do you keep finding him and losing him, over and over again? What is it going to take for you to hold on?

“So how was the date?”

The voice emanates from the alleyway on your right and you nearly jump out of your skin. Tenko’s there, hand down from over his face, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He hasn’t changed his shirt. “I didn’t think heroes were your type.”

“They aren’t.”

“Then why were you on a date with one?”

“He asked.”

“And you just go with whoever asks?” Tenko looks half-incredulous, half-disgusted. You shake your head. “Forget it. Come with me.”

You shake your head again and take a step back – away from the alley, closer to the street. Tenko looks frustrated. “Come with me,” he repeats.

“What, so you can kill me?” You take another step back, well into the glow of a streetlight. You see shock flicker across Tenko’s face. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I don’t want to kill you,” Tenko fires back. He looks surprised at himself for saying it, but only for a moment – then he repeats himself, with more conviction. “I don’t want to kill you. You’re supposed to be my sidekick.”

Your jaw drops. “You remember?”

“I don’t remember everything.” Tenko takes the hand called Father out of the back pocket of his pants and studies it for a moment. Then he puts it away. “I remember that.”

Some kids played a different game every day. You and Tenko always played the same one, with a rotating cast of classmates at your side. All the heroes in the world were working together to fight one big villain, the worst villain the world had ever seen, and Tenko could never decide which hero he liked best, so he played a different one every day. But no matter which hero he played, no matter who else was playing with the two of you, you were always his sidekick. You reminded him every day that you didn’t have a quirk, and he always said the same thing in response, no matter which hero he was pretending to be that day, even though he didn’t have a quirk, either: You don’t need a quirk to be on my side. My quirk’s enough for both of us.

“Come on,” Tenko says again. He holds out his hand, three fingers and his thumb folded down, his pinky finger extended towards you. “Are you coming or what?”

You’ve never seen the world in black and white, but some things are unmistakable: There’s a line here, not visible to others but clear as day to you. On one side of it is Tenko and the darkness that’s swallowed him, the evil that surrounds him, the terrible things he’s done and is planning to do. On the other side is everything else – your dreams, your friends, your family that’s always loved you but used you anyway, a world that’s punished you time and time again for being born without a quirk, the knowledge that the world is so much crueler to so many others. You don’t think Tenko’s planning to kidnap you, to never let you leave. You’ll come back here, physically. You’ll go home and go to sleep and wake up early on your day off to take Yoshimi to her appointment at the main clinic, but you know instinctively that if you cross this line within yourself, there’s no coming back. Tenko was your best friend when you were five years old. Is he worth it?

You hate yourself for asking the question. You leave the light behind and link your finger with Tenko’s. “Where are we going?”

The black mist rises and wells up around you both. “You’ll see,” Tenko says, and for the first time since you found him again, he smiles.

[starhvney]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fcu garroth x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: even though you and garroth go to the same college, the two of you are sometimes too busy to hang out or meet up. one thing that brings you two back together is your late-night procrastination dates in the college library.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, friends with romantic tension, garroth being a smooth mf, like smooth af, you both need to make out already there’s so much tension

𝐂𝐖: none, unless you’re like, allergic to oranges or something

𝐀/𝐍: garroth’s hottest era, i want to kiss him on the lips. also i definitely got sidetracked and wrote this instead of other fics in my queue but we’re gonna ignore that ok guys?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

despite having different majors, you managed to catch a class this year with garroth. while high school friendships usually fade with time, you’re glad that yours and garroth’s didn’t. you two weren’t able to talk and hang out every day like when you were teenagers, but every week you both decided on a time and day in the library to study and work together. 

tonight was one of those nights, as the two of you sat across from each other in pleasant silence. it was one of the things you admired about garroth—his ability to be mature and quiet without feeling awkward, unlike other extroverts like him, was commendable.

you tapped on your phone screen, the glass cold from the lack of use over the past hour. your lock screen lights up to reveal the numbers 11:11, and you lean forward, turning it around to show garroth.

“make a wish.”

his lips curl up in amusement as a light huff of air leaves his nose. he leans back in his chair, raising his arms and lacing his hands together behind his head as his eyes close in thought. brown and blonde eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones as he seemingly puts serious consideration into his wish, before he nods and opens his eyes again.

“that seemed like an important wish.” your inquire, voice still hushed.

his eyes narrow as he leans towards you with his elbows on the table, and for a moment your attention is drawn to the small freckle that lies right on the lower lid of his right eye.

“maybe it was,” he whispers back, his voice a deep husk that would’ve physically rattled you had you been any closer. “but i can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“i know that.” you roll your eyes, hoping your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

garroth lets out another amused huff of air, this time his lips widening to reveal the perfect set of teeth beneath them. his hands rose up for his chin to rest on, as he tilts his head at you. the dim library lights reflect against his pupils, casting a certain shine that almost made his expression seem softer than usual.

“did you make a wish?”

your eyes widen for a split moment when you realize you had been too busy staring at him to make a wish of your own. the empty twist and growl you feel in your stomach gives you a smooth recovery to your slip-up.

“yeah, i wished for a snack. i’m starving.”

“oh no,” he gasps in faux despair, “now you’ll starve for the rest of the night because you told me.”

“or i’m just too lazy to walk to the vending machine.”

“luckily you have me.” he chuckles. 

your eyebrows pinch together as he leans over, reaching in his bag to pull out a cutie orange.

“my saving grace.” you dramatically bow to him, clasping your hands like a devoted peasant to a generous king.

when you reach out to grab the fruit, however, he pulls it away and leans back in his chair. your lower lip juts out.

“what?”

“do your work,” he whispers, before turning his attention to removing the peel. “i’ll do it.”

you blink at him in confusion, before your eyes trail down to his hands. he ignores your dumbfoundedness, instead carefully beginning to dig his fingers into the peel, avoiding spraying any of the juice onto the table. his nails were short and well-manicured, and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes up to the veins and tendons pulling against his skin as he restrained from using his full strength. and as he begins meticulously removing the extra white strands from each slice he pauses, leaning his head down to catch your gaze.

“surely this isn’t more interesting than getting your work done?” cerulean twinkled against the lights as he gazed up at you through his lashes.

blood rose to your cheeks as your eyes dart back down to your textbook, biting on your lip as you twirl your pencil in your hand.

“i was just thinking,” you mumble.

a deep chuckle leaves garroth’s lips and his head dips into his hand, poorly hiding his amusement with your embarrassment.

“cute.”

his hand comes into your view, presenting the neatly peeled orange right below your nose. his hands practically engulfed yours in size as you scooped the snack from his hands, admiring the perfectly stripped slices.

“…thank you.”

“you’re very welcome.” he smiles, calmly watching as you pop an orange slice in your mouth with a satisfied hum.

“don’t you have a snack for yourself?”

his eyebrow raises. “no. i just gave you it.”

you stop mid-chew, staring at him with round eyes.

“i’m not hungry.” he cuts you off before you can protest, waving his hand before leaning back in his chair and lolling his head back, staring at the white ceiling above you.

only a brief moment passes before his attention lands on you again.

“what are you doing this weekend?” he bites on his lip.

you blink, caught off guard by his sudden question. “um, nothing.”

“wanna go do something?”

“hm? like, just us?”

he nods, a small smile appearing as he continues to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. “we haven’t actually hung out in a while. you, know, without school as an excuse.”

“…yeah, i guess we haven’t,” you trail off, distracted by the expectant glimmer in his eyes. “what do you want to do?”

he freezes, eyes drifting off to the right in thought.

“um… i haven’t thought about it,” he quietly giggles, the noise incredibly…cute considering who it was coming from. “but something fun. whatever you wanna do.”

“okay.”

“okay?”

“yeah, i have something to look forward to now.”

“yeah, ok cool,” he clears his throat, and for a moment you think you see his ears turn red. “are you done with your work for the night?”

you sigh, popping another orange slice in your mouth.

“yup. my brain is fried for the night.”

the two of you back up your things, slinging on your backpack and walking side by side back to the elevator in comfortable silence once again. the library is practically empty at this point, leaving only a few stragglers in the silent building.

“i’ll walk you back.” he says, as the elevator doors close.

“you don’t have to.”

“and yet i do every time.”

you sigh in response, having nothing to refute him with. he had insisted on walking you back anytime you were together and it got dark outside. one time there was a party that you two didn’t even technically go together to, and when you decided to leave early he went out of his way to leave with you to make sure you got home safely.

you’re deep in thought when you look down at your hands to realize you only had one slice left, and you hold it up to your taller blonde friend with an expectant face.

“want the last one?”

“always so sweet,” he tilts his head down at you, smiling warmly before purposefully brushing his shoulder into yours. “no thank you. it’s yours.”

you still insist, lifting the piece up higher to his face. “it’s a tribute as my thanks.”

"your thanks?"

he chuckles as you begin to impatiently wave the fruit near his lips, before leaning down with his torso and taking the slice with his teeth straight from your fingers. despite his previous refusal he still hums in delight as he munches on the citrusy treat. one of his fingers raises to your chin and lightly nudges your head up, thumb brushing your jawline in a fond act of affection.

“thank you, silly girl.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[infiniteeight8]

Hi! I’m currently reading my way through all of your IronStrange fics (it’s 12:08 am and I have No Regrets) and would like to place a request/prompt

Maybe Stephen walking in to find Engendering TM has gone wrong for Peter and Tony? One of them could be stuck to the ceiling or covered in fire extinguisher spray

I’m glad you’ve been enjoying the fics! 😀 

I've skipped ahead a bit in my queue. There were a couple before this that needed some extra thought.

-

Stephen opens a portal to the hallway outside the lab. Experience has taught him never to portal directly into the lab. Not when Peter and Tony are in there together.

Tony isn’t actually as reckless in the lab as most might think. Not when they aren’t in the middle of a crisis. After all, if he destroys something, he’s only making more work for himself. And Peter does actually take lab safety lectures to heart, most of the time. It’s just that when you put them together, they feed each other’s excitement until they both forget about being careful.

FRIDAY hadn’t called him to cancel his date with Tony, which is promising, but certainly not a guarantee that today’s lab session has avoided disaster. Readying himself to conjure a shield, Stephen carefully approaches the glass doors. They open as normal, and there’s no fire or shrapnel, but something still feels off. For one thing, it’s too quiet.

Stephen looks around, but doesn’t see either Tony or Peter. He frowns. Then the Cloak taps him on the shoulder and gestures toward the ceiling with one corner. Stephen looks up.

“Hey, Doctor Strange,” Peter says sheepishly, waving at him. He’s sitting on the ceiling almost normally, except for the massive glob of web fluid that’s encasing his right hand, sticking it firmly to the ceiling.

“Peter,” Stephen says, a little relieved. “Testing out a new formula?”

“Yeah. Longer lasting stickiness. The solvent is over there.” Peter points at one of the lab benches.

“Next time maybe keep it on you,” Stephen says dryly. He looks around, eventually spotting Tony, in the armor, wedged between a couple of support beams. He looks like the webfluid was misted over him, and it’s gummed him up between the beams quite thoroughly. “You couldn’t blast your way out?”

“Why do structural damage when it’s going to dissolve on its own?” Tony says philosophically. 

Stephen shakes his head and retrieves the solvent, tossing it up to Peter since his hands are free. “I know you’re tempted to wait and see how long it holds you both,” Stephen says, then turns his attention to Tony, “but we have a date tonight.”

“I didn’t forget!” Tony protests quickly.

Stephen smiles. Of course he forgot. Tony loses track of everything when he’s deep in the engineering zone. That’s why Stephen comes to pick him up on these days. But all he says is, “You’ve got half an hour to get free and get ready.”

As unusual as it is, this has become very much part of their routine.

Stephen kind of loves it.

[dietmountaindewbae]

xviii. oh my love, my darlin'

alex turner x reader

requested by @nela-cutie

word count: 6476

summary: Alex (early AM!) is a close friend of your father's, every Friday afternoon he swang by, you never thought things would change so rapidly with just a few drinks and one song. (60`s inspired fic)

warnings: age g*p, ch*cking, spitt*ng

song recommendation: unchained melody cover by LDR

───── ୨୧ ─────

Every afternoon around 4 pm, your father came home from his laborious work, tired and grumpy, you tried to avoid him as much as possible, giving him a mandatory hug and kiss on the cheek, telling him step by step in order your day at school dully, and with a gentle smile. The only day of the week you weren't faking your smile was on Friday.

Friday was your favorite day of the week, the school was out, and you didn't have to deal with horrid teachers, and their long classes sitting on that torturing wooden chair, you glanced at the clock as you kicked your feet on the dining room table, every Friday afternoon, around 6, that's when Al came around. You heard the bell ring at that time, and not a minute less or more, you came running to the door, giddy like a pony, fixing the bow on your hair and your dress before you opened.

"Hello there, doll face!" His accent slurred through the cigarette, "How are yeh? How was yer day?!" He seemed so happy when he saw you, or that's what you told yourself every time he came by for dinner.

"I'm just fine Al" You kissed his cheek as a polite way to say hello and to smell his musky cologne, and touch his hair that was covered in Vaseline, you played with the little curls that stuck out of it. He looked effortlessly handsome wearing a simple white shirt and jeans under a big black coat, his cowboy belt, and black leather boots with discreet heels.

"You're a sweet thing, aren't you, huh?" He cupped your cheeks together and smiled at your squished face, "I don't even have to ask about school, you're a brilliant little girl, I'm sure of that!" You like that he never had to ask unnecessary questions, he was confident about your abilities and the type of girl that you were, "New dress isn't it?" He gently puts your hand on your waist, examining every single part of your checkered dress, you were thrilled that he noticed it, indeed it was a new dress that you bought just for him, you weren't used to wearing short baby doll dresses but it was what was in, the new style for all girls, you pair it with knee high socks, and your usual jewelry, a thin pearl necklace that you stole from your mother, a red lipstick stolen from your mother too, mascara, there was no need for blush around Alex, he always made it appear with no effort, "Looks pretty on you" He slowly lets go off your waist.

"Thank you Al" He insisted that you just call him Al, not sir, mister, or uncle, just Al, sometimes you called him Turner, but never anything else, he told your father it sounds a bit odd for you to call him that.

"Where's that dickhead!" Your father says from the stairs, tearing apart your five tiny seconds of heaven with Al, another thing that saddened you was that you never got to spend so much time with him, or not as much as you'd liked.

"How many bloody times do I need to tell you to not swear like that?" Your mother yells from upstairs, pinning her pearls to her ears. "Don't go effing and blinding in front of your daughter otherwise she's bound to have your cursed mouth!"

"I'll be dammed!" He spat, hugging Alex and putting his back, "Come sit!" That was your queue for you to serve everyone's food, as your mother poured the drinks, tonight, and like every other, the grown-ups had sour margaritas to swallow down the bitterness of their lives.

"And how many times do I need to tell you to put on some damn shoes!" Your mother yells at you, you quickly fetch your black shoes and go to the kitchen alongside your mother to set the table.

You put the steak in the middle, the salad on the left right in front of your mother since she insists that you and her keep their figure, mashed potatoes on the other edge where your father was, bread and butter, and some gravy, you poured yourself a tall glass of pink lemonade.

"Cheers," Everyone says with their drinks up high, you smile and begin to eat, Al sitting at the center of the table and you next to him.

"I think Bill's bound to get fired from the company..." The conversation fades to the back, turning itself into brown noise, you watch Al smile and eat his food with joy, you like the shape of his face, strong features, furrowed eyebrows, dark brown eyes, big broad nose, and thin harsh lips, he was a dream.

"....Honey!" Your mother calls, "Remember the pie!" You excused yourself from the table bringing out of the kitchen a warm and sweet pie made with fresh cherries and whipping cream on the side.

"She's getting better and better at making the family recipe, she's got it with the baking, hopefully, she learns how to cook a good meal next" Your mother raised her eyebrows, and you sealed your lips, Alex kicked your feet to grab your attention, his proud smirk on his lips make you bite down on your lower lip as you serve him a slice.

"That's the only thing that I'm happy she's got from her mother!" Your father breaks into hysterical laughter while yours fades, "That and the face, clearly"

"At least we can agree on something!" Your mother says, everyone returns to the conversation as you quietly eat your slice of pie, you feel Al kicking your leg beneath the table, again your eyes meet his, and he smiles as he eats your pie, you look down at your feet touching, you kick of your shoe, your white socks gently tap on his leg, and your whisper a 'thank you' the tips of your fingers caressing his leg, you smiled as Al shifts on his seat, he pulls away his leg, and looks away, you feel bad and return to stare at your plate, did you get too friendly with him?

Later on, at night, some more of your father's friends from the office join in, smoking cigarettes in the backyard, your mother had left to go out into the city with the wives while the husbands stayed, Al being the only one to admit to himself he was happy being divorced, all of the other women looked fancy and gorgeous, with their wedding rings off, free, discharged, while you had to bare with their woozy smiles as they ask you to serve them food and drinks. You wished some day you looked like them, with a bigger pair of everything, for your edge you still looked and dressed pretty junior.

"Why'd don't you give her some to drink, let her relax she's been cooking the whole day," Al suggests out of the blue, taking your father by surprise, you sat next to him completely silent.

"Well, if her mother isn't here, I guess she doesn't have to know either, but just one, and you go to bed, right dear?" You nod your head at your father, and you discreetly smile at Alex as you go fetch a cup to the kitchen, when you came back your dad puts on the table a bottle of rum, a can of beer, and vodka, "Choose whatever you'd like"

Nothing caught your attention, other than the clear vodka, it looked just like water, you saw an ad for it on the screen, so you grabbed the bottle, and all of the men clapped and laughed at you, you poured some into your cup, all of them clapped and kept laughing, but you didn't get what was so funny. Al glanced at you and picked you up by your elbow.

"I'll mix her up summat real quickly, we'll be back" You followed Al into the kitchen as he grabbed your jar of pink lemonade and poured it into the blender, with your vodka and a bit of juice, once your drink was done, he spooned a cherry into your glass and a little umbrella on top, "Enjoy!" He said with a bright smile, you avoid his gaze and sip on the drink.

"It tastes good" The sweet drink has that taste of alcohol, gentle but burning your throat slowly, until it falls on your stomach and sits there, spreading through your body.

"What's the matter?" He said, sounding a bit concerned.

"Nothin'" You answered, sipping on your drink, "I just feel uncomfortable around all of 'em, I don't know why they all laughed at me like that... like I'm some sort of joke,"  He held your hand and sat next to you, putting your hand on your cheek.

"I'll watch ya, don't you worry, and if you start feelin' dizzy you go on and tell me, right?" You hummed as a yes, you thought about it before but you thought he wouldn't mind if you grabbed his arm as you walked back, he gave you a caring smile and walked out with you, putting his chair closer to yours.

More liquor washed away everybody's sorrows, including yours, and turned them into bursts of laughter and songs, every time your cup emptied, Al went to the kitchen and served you vodka mixed with soda or juice, asking if you liked the taste each time, you guessed he wanted you to figure out what do you like drinking your vodka with.

"Pull out that guitar big boy, sing us a song" You loved it whenever Al played his guitar and sang one or two songs, he had a gifted voice you always said he should've taken advantage of that. He giggled and everyone began to give him some encouraging pads on the back, nudging his shoulder until finally, he called it. He stood up and waved his arms up, giving up and letting the rest celebrate, he went to his car fetching his guitar from his back trunk.

"Alreyt!" He went back to his seat next to you, taking out a beautiful shiny acoustic Gibson guitar from a dark brown leather suitcase, and from the pocket of his coat he pulled out his cigarettes and a box of matches, "Hold this for me quickly sweetheart" He gave you his cigarettes, red Marlboro's, and he flicks on his match, you hand him a cigarette and he puts it in between his teeth, you make a little house with your hands to preserve the fire from his match, the cigarette lights on fire, smoke coming out of his nose like a bull, and he hands you his cigarettes for you to take care of, he made you go mad over the most simple things like tunning his guitar and the smell of his cigarettes, it wasn't fair at all.

"Frank!" A buddy of your father's says, all of them agree, and at that moment, a clever idea pops into Alex's head.

"I have a better idea" He rubs his hands together, putting his cigarette in between his strings,

"Oh... my love, my darlin'"

"Sing it with me," He turns his head to you, "C'mon I know you fancy this one" He winks his eye at you, he gives you a countdown to jump in, looking at you the same way he always did, confident about you, and your abilities even if you constantly doubted about them.

"I've hungered for your touch... a long, lonely time"

You sing a step higher, and he smiles at you, strumming down the next chord and singing with you, "A long, lonely time"

Alex knew from the look in your eyes, that you felt the same way as he did, it was hard to admit to himself that, since that day he met you, you were running around the house in your school uniform with your white pair of knee socks, looking for your book, he had fallen in love like a fool, it was so simple he couldn't believe how easy it was to love you, he loved how comfortable you felt without shoes on the grass, even when you wore all of those knots in your hair to make it curly, whenever you put on lipstick for dinner just for him even if it wipes away easily, he loved how you rolled around in the grass as your fingertips fell the petals of the tiny flowers that grow in your backyard, you had bloomed into an irresistibly beautiful, kind and charismatic girl, it was so tough on him, to have you in front of him, with that sparkle in your eyes and your blushed cheeks, and not being able to do anything to you.

He was at a loss for words, that's why he sings to you, and simultaneously you end the song singing.

"Are you still mine? I need your love I need your love, Godspeed your love to me..."

In the meantime, you had three or more lemonades, you stopped counting after Al had set his eyes on you as he sang, rocked by his voice, you couldn't help yourself, you were falling deeply for him each time he came by your house, and each moment you didn't see him, you just imagined him and you together, going on dates to see films, buying books for each other, maybe even going to the beach someday, holding hands on the street, writing you songs, kissing... you sigh, those ideas that floated in your mind kept holding you back from wanting anyone else or even considering liking anyone else, the idea of him, no one else could match his size or even fill one of his shoes, you felt pathetic, so you drank down another cup.

The hours went by, and one by one, everyone started to head out, they all went to hug you goodbye, Alex watching you from a distance, the three of you were left in the backyard, but it didn't take long until your father began to get grumpy and angry, rambling about money and the company, that's what he only talked about these days.

"I'll handle this one," Al said, "Go to bed you old dog" Al helped your father up, holding each other's shoulders and going upstairs, you felt your tummy weird, you felt those tingles starting to get bigger as Al had left your side, you didn't understand why did you have that strong and lingering feeling, you needed him now, needed to be by his side, needed to hear his voice, and have his gaze fixated on yours. You became anxious, impatient for him to come back.

You heard the heel of his shoe clacking towards you, you turned your face to look at him, sitting upright and putting your hair away, "You're back" You said with a smile.

"I never left," He said, lighting up a cigarette with a match, the fire burns his cigarette and he inhales the smoke that came out, and you did too, relaxing into the air, "How you feelin' love?" He asked you, with a smudge smile he raised your face, "I see a little bit of red in your cheeks and...lips"

You immediately put your fingers on your bottom lip, "Oh... must be my lipstick then" You added, "I'm feelin' fine Al" You said sounding confident.

"Mmm... or didn't you lie to me about never drinking before? You look as if you haven't"

"I would never lie to you Al" You quickly replayed, too quickly since he smiled widely, looking satisfied in some way, his eyes glimmering when he looked at you, he bit his bottom lip, looking at you up and down slowly, he scratched his chin.

"I better get goin' it's late," He said but before you could stand up, you put your hand on top of his.

"Maybe I can pour you another margarita before you go, we could talk... we never really do" He furrowed his eyebrows but smiled.

"Can't say no to you sweetheart" You stood up, but as you did you felt dizzy, you tried to compose yourself quickly enough before he realized, you went into the kitchen and mixed his drink, and at the same speed, you came back.

"Can you pour me some pop for my drink?" You asked him, giving him back his cup, he looked at you strangely but poured another one for you, and you took another sip as Al drank his.

"Bloody good margaritas you make sweetheart, so... what'd ya wanna talk about?" He put his drink on the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"Umm..." You giggled nervously, but it lasted too long, you tried to calm yourself down but couldn't, "Sorry..." You covered your mouth with your hand.

He giggled along with you, "You feelin' it?" You nodded your head, "That 'appens when you sit down and drink, I'm not sure how, but when you stand up that's when you begin to feel it, you outta be careful when you go out with your mates" You smiled to your feet and said yes with your head.

"The girls like goin' out for shakes and watch the lots chasing a ball like idiots," You rolled your eyes, and your cheeks blushed.

"Got a boyfriend?" You said no with your head, he looked at you with a fainted smile, relieved to know so, "Why not? You're beautiful"

"I never know what to say to 'em" You answered with honesty, "They want this mysterious woman, a femme fatale, chic and cool, I'm none of those things, they just say I'm a funny girl, no one takes me seriously, I barely even talk now" He raised your chin, grabbing your hand, looking you deep in the eye with his tender look.

"You don't need to be that, you're beautiful, lovely lovely girl... does wankers don't know what they're missin' out on... round eyes, pink lips, blushed cheeks, pretty smile..." Your breathing stopped as he got closer, he licked his bottom lip, his eyes looking at your face with sweetness and love.

"You're describing every girl in this town" You answered, he moved his head saying no.

"No other girl could ever be just as precious as you darlin'" You chuckled breaking apart the short space between you, putting your head on his shoulder, "You need to go to bed, it's gettin' late for you" His hand lands on your knee, every single little touch that he gives you lasts a lifetime in your head.

"But tomorrow I got the whole day free... I don't need to wake up early"

"I could take you out for some shakes... you know, just you and me perhaps... keep going with our conversation" Your face shoots up, was he asking you out?

"Sounds nice" You slurred, he grabbed your hand, you stayed silent until out of the blue, you asked, "How did you know that unchained melody was my favorite song?" You feel Alex get tense, and shift in his seat.

"Maybe I've heard you sing it a few times before..." He admits, "You 'ave a pretty voice sweetheart," He caresses your hand with his thumb.

"So you observe me... that's creepy" You joked, "What else do you know?"

"Not much... I know you love to read about philosophy, and your favorite book is The Bell Jar 'cause you always ramble 'bout Buddy and how stupid he sounds at the end of the book when he asked if there was something in him that made women go insane, the shock therapy...." You couldn't stop laughing now, "You like to read Albert Camus even though you hated to read about him in school, you love Bob Dylan and Cash, you can't live without vanilla floats or red nails, and you despise wearing shoes at your house," You nod your head, everything he said was right, it intrigues you, "'Cause you say that-"

"Shoes are the ones that keep you away from having your feet on the earth"

"How do you know all of that?" He swallows down a big lump in his throat, his lips dry and his mind in a trance, "I mean, not even my father knows that... and he buys all of my books" He was debating himself in his head as he stares at your bambi eyes, how could he do this to you? how could he ruin something so simple with just a few words? He knows it's wrong and cruel to admit his love for you even if the looks between you already confirmed the fact that you like him too, he had his reasons as to why he never said anything to you, or why he loved to watch you from a distance, because you're a young girl, with way more ahead of you, and he was ten steps ahead of you. He drew back what he truly wanted to say.

"I think you're very interesting, and I also think..." Your eyes light up at that pause, "That you should go upstairs, bunny" You groan and kick your feet.

"I don't wanna..." Helping you to stand up, you took advantage of the moment to hug him close and tightly, "I wanna stay here, don't you wanna stay here with me?" His warm hand caresses your soft hair, rocking your body as he hums a sweet song, and your lips fold into a pout.

"Of course I wanna stay here, but I'm old and very sleepy, don't do this to me..."

You look up as you feel his gaze on you, and you stand on the top of your toes to give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, when your lips tear away from his warm skin he looks at you with more than just care, he had the kind of look you only saw on movies, or read in books, that look that makes you weak at the knees, that magnetic look that brought your lips together into a deep kiss, he opened your mouth feeling his lips land on top of yours, your mouth tasting like sweet cherries and lemonade, you were dizzy on the smell of his cologne, and his unique scent, his arms drop to your waist, pulling your body closer to his as you pull his face down, praying that he doesn't pull away too soon, but he didn't, he kept kissing you with passion that turns into lust and a deep desire for more, slowly his hand lands on your lower back.

He was gobsmacked at the way you kissed his mouth, so pure, "Don't stop kissin' me, I've been waiting for this too long" He holds your face with one hand pulling your lips to his, his thumb caressing your cheek, and dropping to your neck, you unconsciously moan into his mouth as you feel a big ache between your legs, butterflies on your stomach.

"Me too," You confess, still you can't look into his eyes but he does the job of putting your gaze on his, "I think I wanna go upstairs now" You look at him through your lashes, and he sighs.

"If you say the word" You bit your lower lip, and all of the scenarios ran wild in your head, but you were in awe that this was happening, he kissed you and took you upstairs to your room holding you in his big arms, drunk and seeing stars, thinking about only him. He puts you down once inside your room, locking the door, kissing you with the lights off beneath the pale moonlight that shines on his face.

"I'm all yours if you want me Alex" He sighs, his heart beats for you, he breaths for you, he yearns for you.

"Don't tell anyone about us love, can you keep that promise?" He whispered.

"I can, and I swear I will" You kissed him lovingly, walking back to your soft bed, "If I have you, I don't think I need anyone else" He groaned as he bit on your lower lip, he was so turned on by your words, you depend on him, you need him as much as he needs you, you root for him.

"That's a good girl," He hovers you over in your bed, his hand in the middle of your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat, and it slides down to your tummy as if he could feel all of the butterflies in your stomach, he wanted to know if you felt the same way as him, suddenly his hand began to slide down to your lower abdomen carefully, and you felt the butterflies come alive once more, you wrapped your legs around him, forcing him to stay where he was, your tongue slipping inside his mouth, dancing with his in beautiful pace, your fingers pulling on his hairs, twisting bits of it in between them, his hand inside your inner tight, digging his nails into your skin as he kisses you hard and needy, his hips slowly began to grind against your thigh, creating yummy warm friction and that's when you felt how hard his cock was, rock hard, and probably hurting.

"I-..." You sighed as he kissed your neck, "I want to... uhm..." He kept placing sloppy wet kisses all over your neck, and collarbone, you were losing yourself in the pleasure.

"Come on, you can do it, babe..." A low chuckle came from the bottom of his throat, you didn't know how to say it politely, so instead your hand went down to feel his abs, he pulled his face up as he felt what you were doing, your doe eyes conquering his heart and pushing his impulses to the limits, then your hand dropped to his pulsing cock that bulged thru his jeans, he moaned as your little hand began to stroke him, he looked deep into your doe eyes, there was innocence and purity, something that he wouldn't let anyone else take it away for granted, he felt glad you had picked him because he knew exactly the way to treat you.

You had grown a bigger desire for more, he keeps moaning into the light touch of your hand, only making him get more tense, and hard, so fucking hard that he couldn't keep it in his pants for longer, "Babe, you're makin' thing worse..."

"Why?" You said with preoccupation, stopping the movements of your hand.

"'Cause you're making me want to fuck you even more in that pretty little dress of yours..." Your cheeks blush harder, maybe both of you had a loose tongue now, and still, you never knew what to say to him, "If you let me, I swear nothin' in this world will hurt you" Only he was the one that could hurt you, but you were allowing him to do so if the time comes, "I will be careful, and we can stop whenever you need it, that's if you want to-"

"Of course, I do" You quickly answered, he smiled taken by surprise, and he pushes one eyebrow up with a cocky smirk.

"Why? You need me?" His fingers trail down to your panties, a poodle of wetness soaking through them.

You whined and said, "Like I never needed anyone else" You make him smile from corner to corner, and he kisses you with lust and desire, his veiny and strong hands pull your dress up to your waist, his two fingers feeling the dampness of your panties, while you quickly untucked his shirt to feel his skin, his fingers gently unbuttoned your dress to grop your tits, moaning into his mouth as he kneads them like dough, you liked how hard was he gripping them, how hard he needs you, and how badly he wants to be inside you. He tore away the warmth of his big body to undo his belt and throw it away somewhere in your room, you sat up and unbuttoned his pants, looking up at him as you take his pulsing hard cock out of his boxers, you were stupified by the size and the feeling of his dick.

"See what you do to me now sweetheart? Whenever you're around with your tiny babydoll dresses, running around in your ballerina shoes, I think about how full your mouth would look with my dick inside it when you suck on your lollies, or how tight is your cunt whenever you sit cross-legged in front of me like a little lady, I just love whenever you bend over and I can see your panties... I wonder if you do it on purpose, to provoke me" He was sick as a dog for looking at you like that, admiring you just like that, but you were just as sick because you liked it.

"You'll find out tonight" You grabbed his cock confidently even if your hand was shaking slightly, you tried to let things flow and do as your gut tells you, you began to stroke him just as you were doing, and Alex looked at you with a silly smile, his quiff all messy, "What?"

"I love how hard you're trying to convince me that you know what you're doin', it's cute" He pinched your chin as a sign of love, "Open your mouth," He admired you like that for a second, with your pink tongue sticking out, and your pouty lips, "Fuck... I've always wanted to do this" Before you could ask him  he spits inside your warm mouth, you didn't feel disgusted, you liked it, he took his cock and rammed his tip all over your lips smudging your lipstick, your cheeks flushed hard and he sticks his cock inside your mouth without warning, letting out a concealing moan, a drown out gasp as he grabs a fist full of your hair and moves your head in a jerking motion, fucking your mouth gently, leaving you breathless, you swallowed hard, "Suck like you suck your lollies, babydoll, do as I say..." He orders, and you do, twisting your tongue around him and hollowing your cheeks, sucking hard on his dick running your fingers thru his sexy v-line, he groans as shivers cover his whole body, and he swallows down the big desire to have you gagging and chocking on his dick into you ran out of breath, the sounds of your mouth slurping and tasting his dick inside your mouth were enough for his mind to run wild ideas, "Fuck... fuck, keep sucking hard babe... oh your mouth feels so nice... if your mouth is this little I can imagine how tight your cunt must be... nice and warm" You choked as Alex pulled your head harder and harder, your tears staining your cheeks digging your nails into his strong arms, and when he noticed he immediately pulled away, holding your head in his hands.

You were panting for air, your hand on your chest feeling your heart about to explode, "Was I any good?" That's your only concern in this moment, he looks at you with tenderness.

"You got me so close, I couldn't help meself... you just make me lose it completely, I'm sorry... maybe we shouldn't-" You cut him up with a kiss, the idea of not doing it with Alex now was a big no, you had the chance now, and you needed him so badly. He gently lays you down in your bed, you eagerly stripped down your panties to your feet kicking them off, "You cheeky girl, come to me, I'll make yeh a real woman now" You smiled, "And I'll be a good man for my girl, I'll make yeh feel some real love" He angled his cock at your pussy, you were running out of air just before he even does something to you.

"Is it... going to hurt a lot?" You look at him wide-eyed, his arm next to your head as you feel his tip right on the entrance of your most sensitive spot, he stares at you back caressing your face.

"If it hurts a lot you stop me, alright? I'll be careful... I'm with you, you call the shots babe" You giggle giving him one last sweet kiss on his lips, "I just wanna be yours" He kissed you deeply, losing yourself through the kiss, and then you felt a stinging pain in between your legs, feeling how something inside you was torn apart, and a stinging stretch, you whined twisting in your bedsheets, Alex quickly covered your mouth to prevent you from being heard, "It's ok... ok, you'll be ok I'm sorry, didn't want to hurt you..." You could finally breathe as he pulled himself outside you, Alex helped you to calm yourself down, helping you to breathe.

Once you thought you could try again, you nod your head, "I'm good..." You assured him.

"Listen to me" You carefully paid attention to his words, "I want you to close your eyes now" He gently slid his fingers through your eyes, "Hear my voice, and breathe," He held your hand, fingers intertwining, he aimed his head at your entrance, you began to feel nervous again, "Hear my breathing" He sounds calm and steady, you composed yourself breathing in the same way as him, then slowly he pushed himself in, halfway you felt the stinging come back, Alex moaned deep and breathy, you liked hearing those sounds come out of his mouth, they made your insides wetter, making it easier for you to be less uncomfortable, "Do you feel the pain fading away?" You nod, and whisper a simple 'yes', "Do you feel how close I am to you? I love feeling close to you my love, you must know how much I've always wanted you"

"I feel it" You breathed out, soon the pain turned into a growling pleasure, you were starved for more, your legs wide opened for him as he slowly and gently thrusts inside you, your mouth opens to moan gently, he heard you moaning so quietly it made him start to lose it again but he composed himself, kept going slow but building up a good pace for you, his fingers descend to your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles, adding more pleasure, making your legs lock on his hips, and your mouth to get louder, "That's good, babe, atta fuckin' girl... oh fuckin' hell you feel so fuckin' tight, I love it so much..." You moan louder as you feel him pushing himself entirely inside you, his balls pressed against your inner thighs, "Feel how deep I'm inside you now babe?" You hummed with pleasure, licking your lips, remembering the taste of his cock, but it was nothing like the feeling of it inside you now, nothing could compare to this feeling, this bond that was forming, more than just your hands holding, more than just his eyes on you, or his kisses, the intimacy and care he had for you, nothing had prepared you for this, but Alex was the best choice for you to tie this bond.

"I feel somethin'-" You said panting, Alex craving your sweet juices he pressed down hungrily on your clit, rubbing it in big circles with his thumb, "Oh! my... that's so good, ah! fuck..." He giggles at your curses, you grind your hips into him, and he speeds up his movements until he touched that place deep inside you, that place was like a cave that he lit up and set in flames, and the heat raises between your bodies, your eyes go white and you see stars as you come all over him, your legs trembling and he moans into your mouth, feeling your walls clenching around his cock, covering it entirely on your wet and sweet release, he moaned into your pillow as he pulled his cock out and jerked it, you threw his hand away and jerked it for him.

"Fuck!" He groans between gritted teeth, "Faster babe" He puts his hand on top of yours, closing it in a fist and jerking his slippery cock hard, "That's how me cock fucks my fist every single fuckin' night dreamin' about this, fuck... you fuckin'" He moaned loudly into your mouth as he came in hot spurts inside your belly button, "Oh fuck..." He panted, and he collapsed on top of you, both of you sweating cold, feeling each other's rapid heartbeat, smiling at each other like fools, your body began to relax and you closed your eyes enjoying that after-bliss and the weight of his body on yours, but it didn't last that long until you felt something warm seeping out of your legs, you reached in between them, your fingers came out with some blood.

"Shit!" You jumped out of bed before it could stain your sheets, wabbling into your bathroom, "You must be kiddin' me right now" You quickly sat down on your toilet cleaning out the little blood that was coming out of you, "Fuck fuck fuck" You muttered under your breath, there was no way something so nice could turn this embarrassing, you didn't understand.

"Tell me what happened," Alex rushed to the bathroom in his boxers.

"No, don't look!" You said, feeling tears in your eyes forming, "I think I got my period, I don't know how it came so soon, I'm so sorry, I-" You cleaned up your belly button, you were like a canvas covered in paint, everything was leaking out of you.

"Babe, sometimes girls bleed... it's ok, is it a lot though? 'Cause if it is, we need to go to a doctor now-" He was growing worried and guilty, he didn't think he was being too rough, you were enjoying it, and you could feel him getting scared.

"No, I'm fine, I just didn't remember this could happen, it's not a lot, I'm good I swear baby..." He smiled at the way you sweetly called him baby.

"Ok babe, do you need anything?" He asks kindly, you blushed.

"Mmm, maybe just calm down?" Both of you giggled, you stayed in the bathroom until the bleeding stopped changing into a fresh pair of panties and when you came outside you found him waiting for you on the edge of your bed like a puppy with his big brown eyes, and messy hairl "Hi" you waved.

"You feelin' alright now?" You hummed as a yes, "Go sit down, I'll change you up," He pulled out your dress, brushing your hair away from your face with his fingers, he took a good look at your breasts and your pretty fresh set of panties, completely mesmerized, "Or not?" You giggled and crawled to bed, choosing to stay like that with him, both naked and warm inside your bed sheets.

Until you burst your little happiness bubble "Do you have to go now?" He melts into the sound of your shy and pretty voice.

"Don't think 'bout it for a second, just close your eyes" He held you into his arms, humming a song to your ear, "I always think of you when I hear that song,"

"Give me, give me, give me

what I cry for

you know ya got the brand o' kisses

that I'd die for 

You know you made me love you"

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Lean On Me

Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're out dancing with your friends when you sustain a knee injury and Kix comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, alcohol, mention of past injury, minor injury, domestic fluff, romance, a little angst, hurt/comfort, mild suggestive themes, non-sexual shower scene, implied nudity

Word Count: 6.1k

Author's Note: Due to an unexpected knee injury, my fic writing schedule has been thrown out of whack and I wrote this instead of the ten other fics in my queue. Still a bingo square down, so I don’t feel too bad. Fic is based on a real injury that happened to me four days ago. How the reader got the injury is how I got the injury. Self-indulgent, because I wanted Kix to kiss it and make it better, but it got away from me. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Kix

It’s a gorgeous summer evening as you bustle around your apartment while getting ready for your night out. You playfully slide across the linoleum kitchen floor in your socks and stop abruptly at the calendar hanging on the wall. You grab a red marker from the adjacent drawer, pull the cap off with your teeth, and cross off today’s date. You flip backwards through the calendar and look at the sea of red adorning the previous pages and let out a small sigh.

Each red slash marks one rotation of Kix’s deployment. It’s already been sixty rotations since he shipped out, but a smile creeps onto your lips as you flip the calendar back and focus on the large red circle four rotations away. Kix had sent word two weeks prior that the 501st were finally coming home and he gave you an estimated date of his return. You’re excited for him to come home, but each rotation seems to linger longer than the last as you wait impatiently. 

Nevertheless, at least for tonight, you’ve decided not to dwell on how much you miss him. Instead, you’re preparing yourself for a fabulous girl’s night out. You and your friends have been planning this excursion for a couple weeks now and you’re thrilled to finally get out, party, and unwind. It’s not something you do often, especially without Kix, but this night was just for the girls, so no boys are allowed. It’s only about you and your friends having a good time.

As the time for you to leave approaches, you pull off your loungewear and slide on a playful emerald green dress that you purchased for the occasion. It’s not sexy by any means, but it’s fun and perfect for a night out with friends. You slip on your favorite pair of flats and sit in front of your mirror to style your hair while humming a happy little tune. You adorn your ears with a simple pair of earrings and give yourself a little spritz of your white gardenia perfume.

As you finish up your look for the evening, you hear a knock at your apartment door. You wonder if it’s the neighbor down the hall. She’s an elderly woman that you help out every once and a while. She’s really sweet and loves to tell stories of her younger days when you get lonely. You announce that you’re coming and make your way to the door. You press the button to open it and your eyes grow wide at the unexpected sight before you, a clone trooper in full armor. 

“Kix!” you exclaim as you throw yourself into his outstretched arms. You nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe in his musk and vetiver cologne that instantly intoxicates you. 

“Hello beautiful,” he purrs while dropping his duffle to squeeze you tightly, pressing a desperate kiss on your neck while savoring your alluring floral scent.  

You lean your head back to look up at his face, his amber eyes just as warm and piercing as you remember. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you admit with excitement.

“We got back a little early,” Kix explains. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and you smile. “I wanted to surprise you.” He leans you back a little, running his hands up and down your bare arms, while his eyes gaze upon your dolled up body. “This isn’t for me is it?” he inquires with a chuckle.

“Oh, this?” you look down at yourself and remember what you were doing before he came home. “I was going out with the girls tonight, but I don’t have to!” you quickly rebut. “I can stay here.” As much as you have been waiting for this night out, you are completely ready to ditch all of your plans to spend it with the fine man standing in front of you.

“Out of the question,” he shakes his head. “Go out with your friends and have a good time. I’ll be here when you get back.” He presses a tender kiss to your forehead and a small whine escapes your lips when he lets you go. He picks up his duffle and heads into the apartment, sighing in relief at finally being home. You lean against the doorway, smiling as you watch him instantly meld back into domestic life as if he never left.

“If you keep staring at me like that, your eyes are going to get stuck,” Kix jests without turning around. He can feel your gaze resting on him and knows you won’t leave without a little nudge. You huff through your nose at his intuition and grab your purse from the stand next to the door. You amble over to give Kix a goodbye kiss and he swats your butt when you turn to leave. You whip around and shoot him a surprised look, but he just smirks. “Get out of here!”

You shake your head at his playfulness and head out the door with a small wave of your hand. The place where you’re meeting your friends isn’t too far, so you decide to walk since the evening air is pleasant. You take your time strolling along the sidewalk, thinking only about what you’re going to do when you get home. You want to stay in the present and have a good time with your friends, but it proves difficult knowing your handsome man is waiting for you at home.

You finally make it to the meeting spot, a little dance club that has great reviews. Your friends see you coming and greet you with excited waves. You quicken your steps to close the distance and exchange hugs all around. You enter the club with your friends and make your way to the bar first. You order something light, a simple sangria. The goal is to have fun, not get wasted, and you want to enjoy your night out and have a blast with your girlfriends. 

The rhythmic beats emanating from the speakers vibrate under your feet and traverse up your legs as you wait for your drink. You close your eyes and let it encapsulate all of your senses. You love the deep bass and the way it makes your body feel. The way it makes your heart beat faster in anticipation and excitement. The way it rumbles into your core in the same manner as Kix’s voice when he moans sweet nothings of desire against your body. 

You’re pulled out of your daydream by a clink of glass when your sangria is placed down in front of you. Feeling slightly embarrassed at your lewd thoughts, your face flushes pink as you thank the bartender. You take a few sips of the cold, fruity, wine drink and let out a sweet sigh. It’s refreshing and helps cool you down in the hot club. You leisurely sip on your drink as you chat with your friends at the bar, occasionally falling into a fit of laughter from your growing buzz.

Your ears perk up when you hear the bass of your favorite song. Your heart races, and you grab one of your friends to pull them out onto the dancefloor with you. You sway your bodies to the beat, waving your arms over your heads, laughing, and smiling at how silly you’re being. The song switches, and now you’re jumping up and down in a crowd of people doing the same. Everyone’s energy is feeding off each other and you jump around with reckless abandon.

As the song continues, you pant heavily as sweat droplets disperse from your body at your rapid movements. You slow down as you feel your calves burning from all the jumping, and it becomes a sudden reminder that you need to exercise more often, because clearly you're out of shape. You finally stop jumping to catch your breath, and you bend over to rub your screaming muscles. You straighten yourself up and see your friends wave you over to where they’re sitting. 

You plop down in the booth with an exhaustive exhale and order another sangria to help you cool off. Your friends ordered some finger foods for everyone to pick at throughout the night and you dive into the greasiest and saltiest looking thing that was brought out. You start chatting with your friends, laughing hysterically at the jokes you make, leaning playfully on each other, and  enjoying their company. You dance a little more, drink and eat a little more, and chat a little more.

You check your chronometer and realize several hours have passed, and you think now is a good time to head out before you’re too tired to walk home. You let your friends know and begin scooting yourself towards the edge of the booth. As you straighten yourself up, something doesn’t feel right. Your left knee feels strange. You try to walk a little, but your knee won’t bend or straighten. It doesn’t hurt, but rather it feels as if something is stuck under your kneecap. 

You try to walk forward, but you end up limping. Your friends take notice and ask if you’re alright. You’re not sure how to answer them, but you know you can’t walk home like this. You hobble backwards and sink back down into the booth. Your face downtrodden at your awful luck. Your friends offer to call you a cab, but you're not sure what you want to do. You debate whether or not to comm Kix, but knowing your medic boyfriend, he would be furious if you didn’t try to reach him.

Regret washes over you when he answers in that groggy, sleepy voice he gets after waking up in the morning, but he brushes away your apologies. You explain the situation to him and he asks a few simple questions. He doesn’t sound worried, but you can tell the wheels aren’t completely turning in his head yet. He directs you to stay put and says he’ll come get you. You smile and exchange ‘I love yous’ before ending the call. You sigh in relief and await his arrival.

It doesn’t take long for Kix to appear on scene. You see him come through the entrance, in full gear no less, and you wave him over. He has a stern look on his face and walks deliberately, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. You barely let out a small greeting before he slides his hands around your back and legs and lifts you up into his arms. You’re taken aback by the sudden and silent gesture and instinctively wrap your hands around his neck to hang on.

“Kix,” you chuckle playfully as he walks toward the exit of the club. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to the GAR clinic,” he answers without moving his eyes to meet yours. His fierce gaze is locked on its heading. 

“It’s 23:00 hours,” you remind him as you wave goodbye to your friends. “They’re closed.”

“Nothing is closed if you have a key,” Kix retorts, a smirk flashes across his face, but is gone as quickly as it came. He raises his foot to push the club door open and his armor-covered thigh glides across your bottom. You inhale sharply at the swift movement, but Kix doesn’t notice as he carefully maneuvers you both through the opening before it swings shut.

“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” you question in a stutter as your face flushes. He doesn't answer. “It’s twelve blocks away!” you try to convince him of the absurdity of him carrying you for such a distance, but he still doesn’t answer or waver from his course. 

His face is trained forward, focused solely on his mission and nothing else. You know that look, that gaze. The one he gets when he automatically falls into combat mode. His expression becomes serious and determined. It’s like a switch, and his ability to flick it on and off amazes you every time. It doesn’t matter the situation, when his training kicks in he becomes unstoppable and immovable, and it’s one of the qualities you admire most about him.

As Kix walks down the street towards the GAR clinic, a cool breeze blows through and hits your sweaty skin sending a shiver through your body. Kix notices you shudder and grips you tighter against his chest to keep you warm, cursing under his breath that he didn’t bring you something better to wear. In his groggy haze after your comm, he forgot you wore a dress tonight and left the apartment with just his gear and blaster, as if this situation even called for a blaster.

He gives you an apologetic kiss on the forehead and continues your journey towards the GAR clinic. The walk is mostly silent, with just the serenade of rhythmic crickets filling in the void. You want to say something, maybe tell him to take a break, but he would never listen. You wonder how his arms haven't fallen off yet at carrying you for such a distance. He doesn’t even sound winded. You start to feel bad about the situation and doubt creeps into your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper while burrowing your face into his neck, a small tear escaping your eye and dissipating into the black fabric of his body suit.

Kix stops walking, tosses you up a little to readjust your position in his arms and continues walking. You thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. You wonder if he’s mad at you and the destructive thoughts begin swirling endlessly in your mind. All of sudden, you’re second guessing everything about your relationship with Kix. What if you’re too much for him? What if he’s getting tired of you? What if he wants a less accident prone girlfriend?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further out of control, Kix speaks up. “I’ve carried heavier for longer distances,” he reassures. “This is nothing.” He pulls your torso up a little higher and nuzzles your face softly with his cheek before bringing you back down to the comfortable carrying position. You breathe a sigh of relief and rest your head once again on his shoulder, letting the warmth and calmness of his body relax and comfort you. 

Not long after the short exchange, Kix stops walking again, but this time it’s because you’ve finally made it to the GAR clinic. You look up at the familiar sight, where the two you first met, and smile briefly at the memory. The clinic is dark, which is what you would expect at this late hour. Kix shifts your weight so he can grab his clinic access card from his pouch and swipes it. The door whooshes open and the lights automatically turn on as you enter the lobby.

Kix swipes his access card again to gain entrance to the secured medical facility, and instead of carrying you to one of the exam rooms, he brings you straight back to the x-ray room. You still think the whole thing is overkill, but you trust that he knows best. He carefully sets you down on a chair, kisses your cheek, and maneuvers the x-ray machine and your knee to get the pictures he needs. His biggest worries are a tear, fracture, or dislocation and he won’t feel satisfied until he knows for sure.

You sit still for him while he takes the x-rays, scrunching your face periodically at the stiffness and aching you feel in your kneecap. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable the longer you sit with it bent at this angle, but this is where Kix wants it, so you stay put. You turn your head and look through the window of the tech room and watch as he works. He’s completely focused and engrossed in what he’s doing as he flicks switches and taps on the data-pad. 

You continue to watch as he projects the holo x-ray and puts his hands on his hips as he studies it. You’re starting to feel nervous about the outcome and wonder how badly you injured your knee. Your breath quickens and you let out a small grunt at the pain in your knee. You lean over to rub it and glance back through the window at Kix. He switches off the holo-projection and turns around to look at you with a small smile. You really hope that’s a good sign.

Kix makes his way back to where you’re sitting and gets on one knee in front of you. Without saying a word, he lifts your injured leg gently, fully extends it, then fully bends it, focusing carefully on the movement and your expressions. He rotates your leg to the right, then to the left, presumably to check your mobility. It didn’t particularly hurt when he moved it, but it didn’t feel great either. He then takes his thumb and presses it just below your kneecap.

“Ouch!” you cry with a sharp inhale and recoil your leg from his touch.

“Bingo,” Kix states as he gets up from the floor. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask while rubbing your knee, slightly offended at his painful test.

“Patellar tendinitis,” Kix answers with a relieved smile.

“Galactic standard, please?” you question, unsure of the medical terminology.

Kix chuckles and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “It means the tendon that connects your kneecap to your shin bone is swollen. It’s an easy fix with some anti-inflammatories, an icepack, and rest.”

“How did I do that?” you wonder aloud. All you wanted to do was have a fun night out with your girlfriends and here you are sitting in a clinic with a knee injury.

“Were you jumping?” Kix inquires while crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him.

You purse your lips, almost embarrassed to answer him. “Maybe, a little.”

Kix raises an eyebrow at your sheepish answer. He always knows when you’re lying. It’s one of his unfortunate special powers.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you answer while looking down, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze.

Kix sighs and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be jumping like that when you have a previous knee injury.”

“But, I just wanted to have fun!” you protest as your emotions flow through your words unabated. “I just want to dance and have a good time like every other girl gets to do.” 

Kix frowns, pushes himself off the wall, and sits next to you on the x-ray table. He slides a strong arm around your back to pull you against his side and leans his head atop yours. He takes your hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of it. “I know, cyare,” he soothes in a low rumble. “I know.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, feeling defeated and betrayed by your own body. The previous knee injury wasn’t even your fault, and it happened so long ago, you didn’t even think about it while you were out with your friends. It’s funny how quickly your body reminds you of how truly broken it really is. You wish your body could do what everyone else’s can but this blatant reminder fills your heart with a type of grief that will never leave and your eyes well with tears.

Kix is quick to notice and wipes them away before they get a chance to fall from your flushed face. He knows you try. He knows you want to have fun. He knows you want nothing more than to be normal. And he knows how much it hurts you when you can’t, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You stay in each other’s embrace for several more minutes, silently exchanging invisible words of hurt and comfort, with light sniffles and soft kisses being the only sounds heard. 

Kix pays close attention to your body language, waiting for when you're ready, and not a moment too soon. He feels your heartbeat slow, your breathing moderate, and your body finally relaxing into his. “Do you want to go home?” he asks.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

Kix kisses the top of your head and stands up. He stretches out his hand and you grab it to help hoist yourself up to stand on the floor. You wince at the discomfort in your knee and limp forward a step. Kix puts his other hand on your back to steady you, and you breathe out a small thanks before continuing to limp forward. Unsatisfied with your struggling, Kix bends over to wrap one arm around your legs and the other around your back, cradling you into his arms like before.   

You sigh and roll your eyes at his selfless, albeit reckless, gesture. “You can’t carry me all the way home too. That’s even farther!”

Kix smirks at your challenge. “Watch me.”

The journey home is much more light-hearted than the walk to the GAR clinic. You can tell Kix is relaxing as he steps down from medic-mode and steps into boyfriend-mode. He asks you more questions about your night out with your friends and you regale him with exaggerated tales of your womanly wiles. You both laugh at your wild stories and he tells you a couple funny ones from his time on deployment. 

It must be quite the sight at 02:00 hours, two people laughing hysterically while strolling down the street, one carrying the other. People probably think you’re drunk, but neither of you care about their opinions. You're finally getting a chance to be together after being separated for such a long time. It doesn’t matter the circumstance, just the closeness, the fondness, and the affection are what you need. His gentle touch, his strong heartbeat, his deep voice, it’s all that matters to you.

Kix rounds the corner of the street your apartment is on and you hear him huff. The long distance and exhaustion is finally getting to him, but he is determined to finish strong. He shifts your weight in his arms to get a better grip and you smile at his tenacity, rewarding his efforts with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He makes the final stretch and pulls out your apartment key card, swiping it to open the door to your home. 

He carries you through the doorway, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed, before flopping backward onto it himself with a heavy sigh of relief. You roll onto your side to face him and prop your head up on your elbow. “Are you okay?” You chuckle as you run your other hand over the stubble of his shaved head.

“I just need a minute,” Kix breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. “And a shower.”

“I could use one too,” you realize after thinking about your night out before you injured yourself. There’s no way you can go to sleep with all that ick covering your body, but you wonder how well you can shower yourself with your knee hurting so badly. You imagine all the ways you can brace yourself to wash your hair and how hopping on one foot works in a slippery bathtub.

“We can take one together,” Kix suggests as if he’s reading your mind. He turns his head to look at you, waiting for your answer.

You raise an eyebrow in response. It’s not that you don’t want to, in fact, you’d love to, but not now, not like this. This isn’t the time for that. You're in pain and you don’t want to play around. You just want a shower, and only a shower, nothing else.

“What?” he asks, feigning feelings of hurt that you think he would take advantage of you in your injured state. “I need a shower, you need a shower, and you obviously can’t do it on your own.”

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at his assessment, feeling offended that he would say something like that, even though it was the same conclusion you came to only moments earlier. You think about it a little more, and you hate to admit it, but it does make sense. You're both exhausted and disgusting, so a shower must be taken at some point. You sigh in defeat and begrudgingly agree to shower together, but you stipulate no funny business.

Kix agrees to your terms and conditions without hesitation, because, honestly, he doesn’t want to do anything either, but it’s more fun if you think he does. He loves to see that flustered look on your face and watch as you get defensive and straightforward with him. He smirks at your empty threats as you rattle off all the things you would do if he crosses even one line, and he laughs at your playful smacks on his arm when he tosses out a lewd joke. 

“Kix,” you stretch the pronunciation of his name out to show your annoyance. 

“Alright,” he concedes while still laughing. “Are we doing this or what?”

“Yes,” you answer with a sigh. “We’re doing this.”

Kix smiles and heaves himself up from the bed with a grunt. 

“You sound like an old man,” you jest with a snort and start to giggle.

Kix turns around and furrows his brows. “If you weren’t injured, I’d–”

“You’d what?” you quickly cut him off, daring him to answer.

He takes a deep breath and lets his thoughts dissipate. “Never mind.” You both laugh at yourselves, obviously too tired to think straight. “Come on,” he beckons. “Shower time.” 

Kix starts by removing his armor piece by piece and neatly piling it in the closet. He then peels his sweaty blacks off and tosses them towards the laundry hamper, but they land hanging halfway out. He shrugs at them and leaves the room to turn the shower on. You then slip your dress over your head and also toss it towards the hamper, but you sigh at your terrible aim as the hamper topples over. You shrug at the mess and decide to worry about when you have more energy.

Kix comes back to get you, and frowns as he watches you rub your knee. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while and he wishes he could do something to alleviate your pain besides medicine and ice. He walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of you. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s going to do, but you give him the benefit of the doubt. He slides his hand along the outside of your shin, snakes his fingers under your knee, lifts it to his face, and kisses it tenderly.

“I’ve heard kisses make boo-boos better,” Kix whispers against your knee, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. He recoils apologetically at your body’s reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him with a soft chuckle and a sincere smile. What he did was a sweet gesture and you had no qualms with it. You wish his kisses had the magical power to take all your pain away, and sometimes it feels like they can, but there are some things that kisses cannot fix. However, you play along and feed into his heartfelt attempt. “My knee already feels better.”

Kix smiles knowingly, gets up from the floor, and comes alongside you. He reaches one arm around your back to support you, and grabs your hand with his free one. You brace yourself against his strong hold and pull yourself up from the bed. You hobble forward a little, trying not to put pressure on the injured knee, and Kix steadies you. You lean against his toned body and limp toward the refresher, wincing at the discomfort. 

Once in the refresher, you toss your undergarments aside and Kix picks you up to lift you over the raised side of the tub and places you down into the warm spray. You grab the small railing on the side to steady yourself, and give Kix a nod to let him know he can let go. He slowly takes his hands off you, making sure to watch if you falter. As he sees you holding yourself up, he gets into the shower and joins you under the hot water.

Kix places his hands on your hips and pulls you back against his bare chest. “Lean on me, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. 

You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer as you release the railing and let his strong arms hold you up. You’ve built up enough trust with him that you’re not afraid for a single moment whether he’ll drop you. You know that when you’re in Kix’s arms, there’s nothing that can touch you, there’s nothing that can hurt you, and there isn’t a force in the galaxy that can pry you away from him. There’s no fear when you’re with Kix. Some call it possession, but you call it safe. 

You let the hot water roll over your face, your hair, and down your body for several minutes before grabbing your shampoo bottle. You squeeze a little onto your palm and lather it up in your hair. Kix leans his head back to keep it from getting in his eyes and you giggle as he blows away the bubbles forming in your hair. You rinse the shampoo out of your hair, add some conditioner, then grab your body wash and loofah. 

It’s a little awkward, the two of you tangled up as you try to wash the dirt off your body, but he tries to maneuver you into different positions to reach different spots. At one point, he was holding you with one hand and scrubbing you gently with the other. You wonder how he does it. How he could be so strong and unyielding in the field, yet so gentle with you. He holds you like a fragile piece of glass even though he could crush you with a single flex of his muscles. 

You finish cleaning all the nooks and crannies of your body and rinse out the conditioner from your hair. Now, it’s Kix’s turn to get the water he’s been waiting so patiently for. He moves you both forward, so you're past the shower’s spray and he’s directly under it, pressing one hand against the back of the shower for you to lean against. He groans with pleasure under the water’s cascading heat and the vibration echoing from his chest sends a shiver down your body.

Kix notices you shivering, and makes quick work of cleaning himself up, thinking your cold from being outside the water’s warmth. He switches hands for you to lean against so he can clean everywhere he needs to, and rinses the soap off his skin just as fast. You feel bad that he didn’t get to spend more time under the water, but he reassures you that as a soldier he’s used to quick showers and this was more than enough for him to feel satisfied. 

Kix turns the water off, leans out to pull a towel off the rack, and wraps it loosely around your damp skin. He tussles the towel to help you dry off and you start giggling. He smiles at the happy little sounds you’re making and gives you a chaste kiss on the nose. Once satisfied that you’re not shivering anymore, he gets out of the tub, picks you up to lift you over the side, and gently places you back onto the ground. 

He makes sure you're steady, then grabs another towel from the rack, pats himself off, and wraps it around his waist in a few short movements. It’s so quick that if you blink you’ll miss it, but that’s him, quick and efficient. He positions himself beside you to help guide you back to the bedroom, limping slightly along the way. As you approach the bed, Kix picks you up princess style once again and gently lays you down onto your side of the bed. 

He rummages through the dresser, grabbing you some clean pajamas and a pair of boxers for himself. You both dress yourself for bed, and you take the towel wrapped around your body and work on drying your hair to an acceptable amount to go to sleep. You don’t have the energy to blow dry it at this point, but you also don’t want to sleep on a sopping wet pillow. As you work on your hair, your stomach starts growling and you realize it’s been hours since you had any food.

“Is it too late to eat?” you ask an already half-asleep Kix laying next to you.

He opens one eye to look at the chronometer on the bedside table and mumbles into his pillow. “It’s basically breakfast time, so why not.”

“I bought a frozen pizza last week,” you mention while tracing small circles on his back to coax him awake. “You could pop it in the oven real quick.”

Kix groans in protest, but his stomach betrays him and growls at the mention of food. He sighs in defeat, gets up, and rubs his eyes. It’s been a very long night for the two of you and dawn is already fast approaching. Luckily, neither of you have plans for the day so sleeping past noon is the only logical course of action. On his way to the kitchen he remembers to grab the anti-inflammatory medicine and an ice-pack for your knee, the two things he wasn’t supposed to forget. 

He puts the pizza in the oven and brings you the medicine and a cup of water to wash it down. You gladly take it as the pain in your knee started bothering you again after the shower made it feel slightly better. Kix smiles lazily at you, the exhaustion clear on his face, and you feel bad for making him stay up so late for you. He takes the cup of water back and places the towel-covered ice pack on your knee, timing fifteen minutes for when you need to remove it.

Kix, being the ever-doting man he is, decides to do one more thing to help make you feel better. He steps back into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. If there’s one thing he knows you enjoy, it’s a hot cup of tea. For some reason, tea fixes everything. Bad day? Tea. Period? Tea. Sad? Tea. Injured? Well, according to the track record, tea will work for that too. He sifts through your tea cabinet and pulls out your favorite blend and mug, and steeps you a steaming cup. 

The pizza timer dings and Kix pulls it out of the oven, slices it, and brings the whole thing into the bedroom, along with some napkins, and the tea he brewed for you. You smile when he comes into the room and you're even more happy to see your favorite mug in his hand. He sets the mug down on your bedside table and places the pizza in the middle of the bed, before walking back around and settling onto his side of the bed. 

You take a sip of the tea and lean your head back against the headboard in simple bliss, sighing softly. Kix smiles at your peace and downs a slice of pizza. You grab a slice as well, and pick up the remote to start one of your favorite princess holos. You're feeling extra sappy tonight and in need of something comforting. You already have your prince charming, but you still love the nostalgia of watching the maiden fall in love with the prince and being swept away into a happily ever after. 

Once the pizza has been demolished, Kix removes the pan from the bed and tosses it onto the floor. He slides across the sheets to close the gap between you and wraps an arm around you to pull you close. You lean into his loving embrace and nestle your head against his chest, laying an arm across his stomach. He kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes, listening to his strong heartbeat and his soft breathing as they soothe and lull you softly to sleep. 

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A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndus

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[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Epilogue

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1652

Read on AO3.

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Notes: It's been a wild ride folks. Hope you enjoyed :) I have a whole queue of fics that I've been neglecting to focus on this one, so it might be a little while before I write Rolan x Tav again, but I do have plans for the future, and perhaps I could be persuaded to expedite them <3

---

Two Years Later

Tav’s boots were muddy, but she could see Baldur’s Gate in the distance. She was bone-tired, and on any other day, she would concede to Jaheira’s suggestion that they should make camp for the night and continue their journey tomorrow morning.

But she needed to see Rolan. It had been almost two months since she’d last seen him, and the distance was starting to ache in her chest. More than that, she had something important to tell him.

Lia and Geraldus were both on board, so they left their fellow Harpers in a clearing in the woods and began the five-mile trek home. Jaheira had pursed her lips, but not argued. This last stretch of road was very safe, and the three of them were well-armed in any case.

“Are you sure you’re alright to keep walking?” asked Lia, looking at Tav anxiously. Her eyes darted to Tav’s stomach, which was covered by armour, so she wouldn’t have been able to see anything even if there was anything to see.

She hadn’t actually told Lia anything, but her sister-in-law could be annoyingly perceptive when she wanted to be. These last few days of travel had been slow going, because Tav had been ill.

At the last town they’d passed through, she had gone for a private appointment with a cleric, and emerged with more than just potions for her nausea. She was sure that Lia had probably figured it out then, if she hadn’t already.

“I’m fine,” said Tav. “I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Me too,” said Geraldus.

“Cal’s bed, you mean,” said Lia, poking him in the arm.

“Hush, you.” In the early stages of their relationship, Geraldus probably would’ve chuckled and blushed at the gentle ribbing from his boyfriend’s sister, but they’d been together for almost a year and a half now, and he’d also spent almost as much time with Lia as he had with Cal at this point.

When Tav and Lia had initially joined the Harpers, Cal had briefly considered joining too, but decided the adventurer’s life was not for him. He would much rather help Rolan tend Sorcerous Sundries and stay in the relative safety of Baldur’s Gate.

Privately, Tav knew that he was also staying to make sure Rolan wasn’t alone. She was glad. She would never have been able to go on such long missions if she knew that Rolan didn’t have anyone watching over him and making sure he was eating.

“Excited to get home to your husband?” Geraldus asked her.

She gave him a weak smile. Three years ago, the question would’ve made her blanche. But Rolan was not Lorroakan. The plan gold wedding band he’d given her didn’t weigh her down like the gaudy thing that she’d had from Lorroakan.

Still, she hadn’t expected marriage to feel so natural this time around. She hadn’t expected to want it, no matter how much she loved Rolan.

But about six months ago, it had come up in conversation, and she realised that marrying him didn’t terrify her the way she’d thought it would. In fact, the idea of calling him her husband was very appealing.

Within a month, they were married. It was a small ceremony with just their closest friends, and his siblings. Afterwards, they’d all had a very merry evening at the Elfsong Tavern. It was perfect.

“I’m hoping he’ll help me with my hair,” she said, lightly touching her braid. “All these weeks on the road haven’t been good for it. And Rolan gives excellent head-”

“I don’t want to hear about that!” Lia interrupted.

“Head massages! Don’t be crass!”

The three of them descended into laughter. It made the long walk a little easier.

It was past midnight by the time they made it to Ramazith’s tower. All three of them were excluded from the extensive wards that kept the tower safe, so they walked in with little fanfare.

The lights were on in the kitchen. That was where the three of them found Cal and Rolan, playing some kind of intricate card game. Myshka was curled up on Rolan’s lap, but as soon as he saw Tav, he leapt into her arms.

“MERMER!” he cried, nuzzling into her neck immediately. She had cast Speak with Animals in preparation for this very moment.

“Hi there, baby,” she murmured, scratching under his chin. Suddenly, she was being lifted off her feet. Myshka was sandwiched between her chest and Rolan’s as he embraced them both.

“Tav…” Rolan sounded breathlessly exhilarated. “I didn’t know you would be home tonight…”

“But you stayed up anyway,” she said as he set her back on her feet.

“Well, I did hope.”

“He stayed up last night too,” Cal chimed in from where he was entangled in Geraldus’ embrace.

“Shut up, Cal.”

“I suppose neither of my brothers are all that happy to see me. The perils of being a fifth wheel,” said Lia pointedly, walking over to the stove.

There was a pot of soup that was slowly simmering. She grabbed herself a bowl and began to spoon soup into it, but almost spilled it all over herself when Cal hugged her from behind.

“I missed you too, Lia,” he said.

Looking a little chastened, Rolan released Tav to go and embrace his sister as well.

“How was your trip?” Cal asked cheerfully.

“Long,” said Tav. “I really need a bath.” She tugged her braid loose from its tie, letting her tangled hair cascade over her shoulders.

“I’m sure I can manage that,” said Rolan.

“Cal, Geraldus,” said Lia suddenly. “Will you help me with my bags? I left some stuff downstairs that needs bringing up.

“What bags?” asked Geraldus, confused, but she elbowed him in the ribs. “Right, of course, let’s go.”

And then Tav and Rolan were alone. Tav was sure there were no bags to be brought up. Lia was just giving them an excuse to be alone.

Rolan put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms’ length as he surveyed her.

“You’re looking well,” he said. “Lots of colour in your cheeks. That’s good to see. Being a Harper is good for you, as much as I hate to be away from you.”

She knew that he was downplaying his own feelings. Cal had once told her that her long absences were hard on Rolan. He feared for her safety, and he missed her deeply.

He would never tell her the full extent of his feelings though. He didn’t want to pressure her into putting his needs over her own.

“I never want to be away for that long again,” she said, and it was true.

She loved the thrill of adventure, but the tower was her home. Gone were the traces of Lorroakan that had haunted the place. With a combination of magic and interior design, they had made this place into a home for themselves.

“And I doubt I’ll be leaving Baldur’s Gate again any time soon. I’m going to be taking a little bit of a leave of absence, from fieldwork at least. With the resources we have at our disposal here, I can still make a difference without putting myself on the frontline.”

Rolan swallowed. “Really?” There was a quiet, but obvious spark of hope in his tone. “Tired of adventuring already?”

“Well, it’s more that I think it’s probably too dangerous for me right now, in my condition.”

“Condition?” he asked, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion.

She took his hand and guided it to her belly. In the last leg of the journey, she’d removed some of her armour, leaving her in a loose-fitting tunic. His eyes widened as understanding dawned on his face.

“You’re- We’re-” he stammered, disbelieving.

“Pregnant? Yes.”

“Gods, Tav.” He dropped to his knees and pressed his face into her clothed stomach. She put her arms around him, a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

“Are you…” A hint of nervousness entered her tone. “Happy to hear that?”

“I’m elated,” he said. “Are you?”

“I never thought I would want this,” she said. “I vowed to never give Lorroakan a child, so I thought that was it for me. But I want this with you. I want to have your child.”

“Tav…” Tears were rolling down Rolan’s cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her stomach. “I love you so much.

“I love you too.” She smoothed her fingers into his hair, loosening it from the hair tie that was holding it in place. He didn’t protest, still pressing his face against her.

That was how Cal, Lia and Geraldus found them a few minutes later, with him still on his knees, holding her. Lia let out an excited yelp as she took in the scene.

Rolan got to his feet quickly, embarrassed. “Should we tell them?” he whispered to Tav.

“I think Lia already knows. So I think it’s only fair.”

“Alright.” He nodded.

“We’re having a baby,” she said, and Cal almost knocked her off her feet as he pulled her into a hug.  

“I knew it,” she hear Lia shriek, and chuckled into the material of Cal’s shirt. Rolan was hovering behind her, a protective hand on her lower back. As soon as Cal moved out of the way, Lia took his place, throwing her arms around Tav’s neck. “I’m so happy for you two.” She pulled back and held Tav’s face in her hands. “You’re brilliant, you know that? Your kid is going to be a superstar.”

“Our kid is going to have the best aunt and uncles in the world,” said Tav.

Lia turned to Rolan. “You’d better get to work, the mother of your unborn child wants a bath.”

“With rose petals,” Tav supplied.

“She wants rose petals,” said Lia, helpfully.

“I suppose I better get on that,” said Rolan, kissing Tav’s temple. “Anything for you.”

---

Notes:

fic title is from Black Ink Revenge by Automatic Loveletter

"Don't you let 'em know you're dying, dying Dying to break out Dying to get, get, get out Through the window of the upstairs Click my heels but I am stuck here"

[drarrypotterrenaissance]

So Good I Could Cry

I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜

Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here

It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.

Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.

Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.

He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.

“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.

They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.

When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.

“Draco?”

There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.

“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.

“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.

“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.

Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.

Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.

“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”

Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.

When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”

Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.

“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.

“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”

“I do,” Harry says,

“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.

When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.

[the-daiz]

Imagine a crack fic which is literally... Puri-Puri's dating tips 🌚🌚🌚

"So, you want to know the secrets of picking up unsuspecting specimens?" A clink echoed in the sealed room as Puri-puri prisoner carefully lowered his teacup against the tiny plate cupped in his contrastingly large hand.

"That is not what I asked-"

"well, sure it was, you've got 'hopeless romantic' written all over you." He cut you short, his posture laid-back as if the interrogation room drew out no sense of panic or worry in him, a normal reaction you’d see on most— if not all your work hours.

You had been called in the late hours of a Wednesday night to interrogate the famous hero for another one of his infamous… incidents, if you will. The hero association granted him extra privileges, noting the finely crafted matching tea set with a plate of tiny sandwiches before him, in the interrogation room, and before you: the esteemed detective of this case.

You were almost positive that if he wanted to, he could slip past these allegations with a few pulled strings from the H.A., but, from what you’ve heard from your colleagues, the fine man wanted to be judged fair and square for his crimes in the name of ‘justice’.

(your colleagues heard him mutter something about how ‘his lovely boys in prison must have missed him’)

You certainly had your work cut out for you tonight.

"Quite the assumption, Mr puri." You spoke firmly. "But let's focus on the matter at hand."

"Your single-ness?" He brought the teacup to his lips.

"Your crimes." You countered.

“Oh, I get it now!” He perks up slightly, his large build straightening as he peered down at you. “You need dating advice.” He leaned down a bit and winked.

“no-“

“You just got dumped, didn’t you?” He looked at you with something akin to sympathy.

“Mr. Puri. My personal matters do not concern this.” You said with an involuntary twitch of your lip.

“There’s no need to be ashamed. We’ve all been there.” He places the cup down and flashes a prideful smile, along with a fiery flex of his triceps, causing his sleeves to rip to shreds. You covered your eyes and squinted as a bright light shone from him. “But don’t fret, you’ve come to the perfect lover-boy for advice!”

You blinked in disbelief. ‘Lover boy..?!’

“You’ve gotta take care of yourself, in general really. Making sure that your mentality is clear and confident, and is only emphasized further by your outward appearances, guarantees that your partner will stay head over heels for you.” He interjected anything meaningful you were about to say.

“People like confident lovers, not sulky ones, unless you’ve got one of those mentally ill partners— Stay away from those, they’ll ruin you.”

“You better maintain your shimmy too, make sure to maximize your assets.” He flexed his arms again, the exposed muscles bulging with veins. It made you grimace. “If nothing else works, you can always flash em’! Sometimes you’ve gotta show them what they’re missing out on.

That much can be said about my dear boyfriends. They can be so silly at times. How adorable.” He let out a dreamy sigh and shook his head with a smile. You could’ve sworn you saw a few illusions of tiny pink hearts fluttering around him.

“right…” you coughed into your fist. “So about—“

“Don’t forget to love yourself, you can’t expect anyone to appreciate you if you can’t even appreciate yourself.” He winked, one hand pointing at you while the other rested over his chest.

“That’s real sweet.” You responded rigidly. Before you could attempt to stir the conversation back to the case, an alarm blared from outside, causing you to flinch.

“That’s my queue!” He shot up from his seat. “Better go make sure no cute boys get attacked by any monsters, that would be such a tragedy!”

“hey, wait! You can’t just—“

He busted through the door. Before he left, he turned to you with a charming smile.

“don’t forget: love is a battlefield, with strength and courage, and a bit of assets, you’ll be sure to win!” He gave you a thumbs-up, then he was gone before you could even process his words.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Making it official: ⚡🩹🔞(<- always i just can't help myself) Feel free to use this if you want to, or write anything else really. I'm sure I'll love it regardless, Lightning has already taken root in my heart.

You Light The Sky, I'll Bring The Rain - Lightning/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, semi-spoilers for the movie but nothing actually main plot related, friends with benefits, one-sided pining (or is it?), lots of heavy talk, blowjobs, smut.

Wordcount: 8060

Summary: You've never liked Lightning. He was a bit of a snob, acted like he was too good for you, and always ever called when he needed something. No, you've never ever liked Lighting. But it was the man he used to be that always made you come when he called.

Notes: Switching up my queue just once because if I don't write for this man asap I'll explode. I fell in love with him at once, DD did such an amazing job as usual, I was smitten in the theatre once again and I can't stop thinking about him so here's a filled request for those who already love him~ I do plan on writing him a longer fic, but I need to settle on that plot first since I apparently love him enough to ship with /)w(\ so I gave that original idea to Addy, but I hope you enjoy this in the meantime 💗💗💗

You didn't know why you kept coming back to him. He was different now, much different than the man you knew back in college when you were stuck next to each other in your programming class, from his contacts to his clothes to even his haircut. He still painted his nails, that never changed, and he kept the ring you gave him the night you were walking around town and randomly found it on the ground. You still remember picking it up and trying it on, it was unwanted trash you could turn into something loved again; he seemed to latch on to what you said about it, and he'd gone quiet when you’d slipped it onto his finger and it'd fit him better than you.

That was years ago, he had a high paying job now and little time for you as a result, always busy with the meetings and parties and people surrounding him, so when he called you up one Friday night you expected it to be just another simple ‘hello,’ ‘I miss the old days,’ and maybe, ‘I miss you.’

‘Everyone's busy tonight, you wanna hang out or something? I know this new age tea place just around the corner from where I work, great vibes, you'll love their blends,’ came his soft voice from the other side, much softer than it used to be when you knew him before; he was too old to be talking like this, but you guessed this was another fake thing about him now, something calm and cool and easily approachable so his true self underneath wouldn't scare anyone else away.

‘Hey, Leo,’ you said instead of answering him, your phone placed on your desk while you typed away at your current project, which was honestly taking much longer than it needed to because your boss refused to listen to some nerdy coder trying to fix his company's website.

‘That's not my name.’

‘I'm not calling you Lightning,’ you replied flatly, you'd already had this conversation a million times before ever since he started his job and changed everything about himself. ‘If you’d just go ahead and give me literally any reason why I should other than, “AIA says all the kids nowadays are doing it,” then maybe I would, but I’m not calling a grown man Lightning because his artificial intelligence wants to brand him as cool, not because it’s something you actually chose for yourself.’

‘Can you at least call me that around my friends? I don't want anyone to be confused, or start calling me that too,’ he muttered, just a hint of his old self slipping through the cracks for a moment.

‘Fine, so did you actually wanna hang out or do you just want someone to get new age tea with you tonight?’ He'd done this before, on slow nights when there was no one else to turn to, there you always were, like a lighthouse in his storm of a life; maybe he was a Lightning, after all.

He went silent at your question, but this was all part of the conversation now, the casual exchange between you two that always happened whenever he needed you, and he took no offense to your tone anymore, just as you stopped hurting when you became the last resort instead of the first. ‘I… want someone with me,’ he admitted, he was getting faster with it since you started calling him out, but there was sadness in his words, it was another bad night, something his so-called new friends wouldn't know about. ‘I visited the hospital again today.’

You saved your project and picked up your phone, already heading to the bedroom to get changed. ‘Was it bad?’ you asked as you raided your closet, needing something to match his new style so he could at least feel comfortable, you wouldn't embarrass him by dressing the same way he used to this time, not tonight.

‘The job helps, you know the paycheck pays for all of it now,’ he started, not wanting to get to the hard part, and you didn't rush him as you found your nicest, hippest shirt you'd bought for work. ‘It's still progressing, AIA said the new treatment would help but she warned me-’

‘You're following the advice of an AI, remember that,’ you murmured so softly you weren't sure if he'd even hear it, but he did anyway, and you heard him clear his throat almost uncomfortably. 

‘She did the calculations, she’s smart, so much smarter than you know, it’s so much more advanced than everything we learned in class,’ he told you yet again, but you’d believe it when you stopped seeing posts online about AIs saying human things just because that’s what they were taught to do. ‘The meds help, but… it’s gotten to the point where I can’t leave the house without it.’

‘Please, just come with me to the oncologist who helped my uncle.’

‘AIA said Dr. Krill was the best in the field.’

‘AIA isn’t real, she can look online and give you all the answers you want, but this is a human being I know who helped someone close to me, he can give you more answers than she ever could-’

‘Can you please just get some fucking tea with me?’ he snapped, stopping you in the middle of pulling on a pair of too tight jeans because that’s what the kids today loved to wear; his voice was loud, brash, emotional, this was the real him again, the one only you saw nowadays, and you sighed and walked over to where your phone sat on your bed. ‘Please, I’m sorry I just… I don’t wanna be alone tonight…’

‘You know I’ll be there soon,’ you said softly, just as quiet as him, and you heard his sigh of relief. ‘Do you want me to meet you at your place, or at the shop?’

‘Work, I’m still there finishing something up, we can walk over when you get here.’ He hung up immediately, no more time to talk, but you couldn’t get annoyed when you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. This was something that’d started right at the end of college, you’d been there since the beginning, and whenever he got an update you were the only one he could tell. After he got his job he’d paid off his family’s home, he was stuck living with his parents because of all this, and now took care of them from afar, the both of you moving to Silicon Valley at his urging because of the job opportunities.

It’d only worked out for him, you thought bitterly as you finished getting ready, your phone in your pocket and your keys in your hand as you headed for your car. He’d been picked randomly out of a group of 50 to participate in a foundling company’s new alternative to Siri and Alexa, but you hadn’t, whatever you’d presented to them they hadn’t liked once they saw him. You hated him for a while after that, but you didn’t now, not when you knew this job was the only thing keeping him alive. You’d talked about it once, what you would’ve done if your positions were reversed and you’d been the one picked, but he’d gone silent when it came to him imagining you in his place.

You thought it’d been jealousy even though he was the winner, the idea of you having everything he had so unfair after a lifetime of being overlooked, so terrifying even in its fantasy, that he never even entertained the idea for fun. ‘Never change, just be happy where you are,’ he’d told you that night as you lay on the roof of his building, the thing a giant, sprawling cage where you were only allowed to enter the stairwell, that was it. You turned your head to face him, and when he did the same back, you realized that you didn’t recognize him anymore.

You pulled up to that same building, needing to pay the meter since you had no access to the lot as a visitor after closing, and you saw him waiting by the door for you; he was talking to someone else on the phone, his back slouched against the wall and his free hand waving around as he spoke, but his voice was still soft even in his apparent distress, enough so that you couldn’t make out a word he said. You waved to get his attention when he started to pace, and he quickly said goodbye to his caller before readjusting his earpiece and walking calmly over to you.

‘Partner troubles?’ you joked only because you knew he was single, he always made sure to let you know whenever he was sleeping with someone again.

‘Doctor,’ he answered stiffly, and your laugh died in your throat with a rough cough. ‘C’mon, they’re open late but they stop serving food around 10, I haven’t eaten today.’

‘Old habits die hard, even with all the money in the world,’ you sighed as he fixed his collar and made sure he looked presentable again, but he had nothing to say to that one. ‘I see you’re wearing glasses again?’

He looked down at his detachable glasses where they hung against his chest, and he lifted them up and reattached them so they sat on the bridge of his nose. ‘Got the surgery a while back, these are fake,’ he admitted, but he at least looked a bit more like his old self with them on, as dumb as they looked.

‘Now all you need to do is fix your bangs, then you’ll be recognizable again,’ you teased, reaching up to mess with his hair, but he leaned away seriously, he wouldn't let you make him look disheveled when he was out and about. It killed the mood a bit, and his glasses were placed against his chest again as you walked, the tea shop just a few blocks away like he promised but not nearly close enough all the same. You weren’t fond of places like this, everything was always way too expensive and bragged too much about their superior blends compared to other chain businesses, but they were always the same in the end. 

He gave the barista a small wave as he approached the counter, and she did the same to him, but there was no comfortable familiarity in their actions, just them going through the motions. You didn’t hear what he ordered, there were too many words and he wanted it way too specific for someone who used to down cup after cup of black coffee like it was water, so by the time it was your turn you weren’t sure if you should ask for the same and just accept whatever it was, or attempt to come up with something yourself. He gave you a nudge when you took too long, and you just smiled and glanced at the menu again.

‘I’ll just have a water for now, I’ll decide in a bit,’ you told her, and she rolled her eyes and got started on his order all the same. He wasn't happy with that, but you weren’t going to pretend you could understand the gibberish hanging above you. You examined it more closely, you were never much of a tea drinker to begin with, but he wanted the company, so by the time your small cup of overpriced and outsourced mineral water was placed in front of you, you downed it and asked for the only kind of tea you recognized. She rolled her eyes again at your simplicity, but you were there for him, by the time you came back she’d probably be working somewhere else, none of this mattered.

You took your order and grabbed a corner booth while his sandwich was being made, he never liked to sit near windows, and he surprised you again when he walked right past you and grabbed the empty table by the door. You let out a small breath and joined him without a word, and even though he picked his seat he still looked uncomfortable as he popped open the tab and took a sip. Your tea was still too hot so you just let it sit, preferring to watch him and take in all the other things he’d changed now that he was in front of you. 

You already knew it’d be weird to get used to him just never wearing glasses anymore, he usually wore them when he was around you to save a pair of contacts, the only piece of that part of him the fake ones hanging around his neck. You reached across the table and took them while he ate, knowing he’d be unable to stop you lest he risk wrecking his sandwich, and you put them on and stared through slightly smudged plastic lenses at him. ‘Give them back,’ he said softly once he’d swallowed, but he didn't look too in a rush when he saw the way they looked on you.

‘These are the same frames from before,’ you noted, taking them off to pull them apart and put them back together a few times to test the magnets within, ‘the ones you wore when we graduated.’

‘They looked vintage, it makes for a good accessory,’ he simply said before he took another bite, a small sip of tea just barely washing it down; maybe he didn’t even like the taste, like it was something else AIA had recommended to him as part of his cleanse to keep him as healthy as possible.

‘Well, you did graduate what, two decades ago? Pretty vintage now if you ask me,’ you stated, his age making him wince even though it was a testament to how he was still here, still breathing. ‘So, how much did the surgery set you back this time?’

‘The company paid for it, actually, I just had to fill out a few forms and explain why it was beneficial for me to be able to see without assistance, and I was booked the next day,’ he said as he finished eating, a slightly larger sip this time making the wince return, he truly didn’t like it.

‘Sounds nice, you know how long it took me to even see a doctor to fix my carpal tunnel.’ You weren’t bitter about it anymore, but he glanced at you all the same.

‘You know I would’ve been able to help had you come to me,’ he reminded you, he always did when you brought it up, and again you declined it even though it was long over and done with.

‘And you know I never would’ve been able to pay you back if you’d taken me to one of those fancy doctors who charge by the minute.’ You tried your own tea but it was still a bit too hot, it burning your tongue a little, and even then you could taste that it was more water than tea, flavourless drivel.

‘I’ve never once asked you to pay me back,’ he said seriously as he sat up, his relaxed posture changing into something more stiff until the wince returned and he sat back again, his hand going to his stomach. ‘Sorry- I apologize for raising my voice, that was rude,’ he corrected himself quickly, and it was almost frustrating to see him like this, maybe this would be the last time, for real. ‘But you know I wouldn’t have asked it from you, just like you never did from me.’

‘So that’s what this is, one big payback for all the times I flipped the bill, drove you into town for every appointment when you could barely stand, sat by you until they kicked me out for the night, is that it?’ His eyes met yours, and you saw him again in them as he reached for your hand; you didn’t move away, just waited for him to touch you when he stopped, glanced towards the counter like he was afraid of anyone seeing him be an actual person again.

He made the motion to push his hair behind his left ear even though it was so short now, his earpiece blinking to signal a call that he then silenced, and he distracted himself with more bad tea until he was ready to answer you. ‘It was never about that,’ he began, but he was looking at the table instead of at you, ‘you know I never kept tabs on any of it, so neither should you.’

‘Then why do we keep doing this, Le- fuck, Lighting? You’ve got a great life now, new job, new friends, new you, why am I still the one thing you hang on to? Because you can tell me the truth? Because I know the real you, and you know that I keep coming back whenever you need someone to talk to about the bad days? I thought AIA could do all that for you now, be your new therapist you can let all that bullshit onto, so unless you tell me why, I’m outta here.’ He was silent while you talked, just listening, and when he didn’t speak you just sighed and stood until he was babbling and reaching for you.

‘Stop, alright, just wait, can we- can I go back to your place tonight? We can talk there, just… not here, not where she can hear us,’ he muttered lowly, his hand covering his face and blocking him from view of the only other person, and you let out another sigh before picking up your tea and motioning for him to get up. He did, his tea brought with him even though he didn’t like it, and you switched with him and headed for the door before he could protest. It was awful, whatever blend he was praising was certainly not this one, but you drank it all the same for him as he caught up to you.

You didn’t speak on the way back to your car, and for a moment you wondered if maybe he’d follow you home when he sat down next to you, his earpiece off and tossed among the change on your dash when your teas filled up the cupholders. This was serious, he always had that stupid thing with him in case of any emergencies, and you didn’t comment on it as you drove back to your apartment. It was nothing fancy like where he probably lived, you still hadn’t gotten to visit him, that was yet another part of his new life you weren’t allowed into, but it was still decent and had a nice view of the water if you did say so yourself. 

You parked and he didn’t bring his earpiece with him, even his phone left behind on his seat when you got up to leave. ‘Hey, don’t you need that?’ you asked him before his door could close, and he checked the time before shaking his head and setting it back down. You weren’t going to argue, if someone decided to break into your car you wouldn’t lose much aside from the vehicle compared to his phone full of precious information, but maybe AIA really was that good, maybe she - it - would be able to save it all before anything got leaked. 

You pursed your lips and grabbed it after all, just in case, at least the headset would be ignored amongst the change.

He already knew the code to get inside and wasted no time in getting to the elevator, he was in an actual hurry this time, and you felt his phone vibrate in your pocket as soon as you approached him. ‘Oh, here, don’t want you losing your job over something stupid like a data breach if this gets stolen,’ you said as you tossed it to him, no photo under the caller ID as someone called Melody tried to get a hold of him, and he stared at it before hanging up on her.

‘I don’t want to talk to anyone else tonight,’ he whispered as he shut off his phone entirely and shoved it into his pockets, and by the time you reached your floor he’d asked you to do the same. Something felt wrong as you approached your door, he was never this disconnected anymore, and you only had a second to open your mouth to ask what was wrong when he pressed you against your door and kissed you urgently as soon as you shut it. 

You were used to this, every time it got bad he came to you for something no one else could give him no matter how much time passed, but you couldn’t ignore that pit in your stomach as you groaned uncomfortably against him and pushed him gently away.

‘Not tonight,’ you told him firmly, and he whimpered before trying again anyway, mouthing along your jaw in order to convince you. ‘Leo, please, I’m tired of this…’

‘Just once more, and if you hate me that much I’ll never come back again,’ he whispered desperately against you, the old him showing again and making your chest hurt; this was a part of him you didn’t miss, this part that said this to everyone who didn’t return his feelings, guilted them into a pity trap outside of his sickness, and you ran your hand along the back of his neck before taking him by the hand and leading him to your bedroom as you always did. He made sure to leave his phone and yours by the door though, he didn’t want to be disturbed, and honestly neither did you.

You didn’t let him start up again once your door was shut, but you did start to strip away everything that wasn't him, from his glasses to the fashionable scarf he didn’t need to the necklaces he’d bought at some local craft market because the gems promoted healing, all of these things not the Leo you knew and chipped off one by one until he was just in his shirt and pants. You went for the former next but he stopped you, instead helped you do the same, and when you both had trouble getting out of your too tight pants the mood was lightened when you collapsed onto the bed with them tangled around your legs.

He kissed you again while you laughed, and this time you didn’t argue against it, needing him just as much as he needed this, you always did, which is why you had yet to say no to him before tonight. His kisses felt easier again, this wasn't love but it was still something strong between you, something that he had yet to find a way to replace. His weight was comfortable over you as it always was, your legs wrapped around each other until you were pressed together again, and your fingers ran through his short hair as you let out a dissatisfied moan.

‘I miss your long hair,’ you whispered when you took a breath, and he sighed as he always did when you brought it up. 

‘AIA likes it short, says it suits me better based on my face shape,’ he finally explained after many years and many more excuses as to why he supposedly liked it better.

‘AIA doesn't see you like I do.’ He stilled in the middle of kissing from your jaw to your earlobe, and you saw the way his eyes shifted the way they always did when he was doing calculations in his head; you were getting too honest, you hadn’t been able to keep him back then and you knew you could never keep him now, but something about tonight was making you want to try. You played with the hair at the nape of his neck when he looked at you, just waited for him to say something to make this nothing but a mutually beneficial transaction again, just like it'd been that first time years and years ago, and he looked ready to speak when he instead sat up and turned away from you. ‘I'm sorry, alright? I know this isn't anything, I didn't mean to-’

‘They've got me on a stent now,’ he said to the comforter as he played with it, and you sat up next to him and just waited. ‘That's what I saw her about this morning, they just put it in today.’ He lifted up his shirt to show you, and you followed the tube until it disappeared back under the dark fabric. ‘There's a lot I can hide from other partners, but I can't hide this, now that it's this bad I need to do injections every day…’ He gripped his shirt until he pulled it back down, his expression contorting into one of anger instead of misery. ‘I don't get it, I'm better off now, I was able to take care of everyone but myself, why can't I fix myself?’

‘Because you're not broken,’ you insisted firmly, your hands finding his even when he pulled away.

‘Termical fucking cancer sounds pretty broken to me,’ he sneered, disgusted with himself for still being sick after so much money tossed at too many doctors to name over too many years. 

‘No, stop it, alright? Just stop, you know I-’ 

‘What? You what?’

You shoved him onto his back, your hands trembling over his shoulders as you stared down at the slight lift of his shirt where the tube traveled over his skin. ‘You know I've never seen you that way,’ you confessed to him, your honesty finally building up against the dam until it began to overflow, and for once you had his undivided attention without his phone or other people around to interrupt you. ‘Not even at the beginning, before you knew, back when it was just us barely passing that class; we always said it was gunna be us against the world, that if one of us got a job we'd help the other out since it was all so new, and then you… 

‘You just had to come out here, and start working for them, and I was so happy for you even when you couldn't get me in cause I knew you were being taken care of. But then, the haircut, and the outfits, and those fucking glasses- who are you? "Lightning”? Who even is that? Because it's not you, I'm the only one who still knows you, Galileo, and I never wanted you to change out here, you never should've had to just to get these people to look at you, because I always have, I always have…’

There it was, everything was laid bare and out in the open for him now, and you shifted so you wouldn't put too much pressure on him knowing that he was hooked up. He didn't speak for the longest time, still doing those calculations before finally he sighed, looked away. You felt cold, and you sat back fully to give him room to sit up again, Leo finding your floor quite interesting as he tried to figure out how to word his thoughts. ‘Changing into this is what's kept me alive for so long,’ he said after what felt like an eternity, and your fists clenched over your knees. ‘You might not like it, and think that I'm different, but ever since AIA helped me fix everything about myself I didn't like I've been happier, healthier, more social. 

‘I don't sit around alone anymore, waiting for you to pick up your phone because you've always been miles ahead of me, and I tried, I tried really fucking hard to get them to let you come with me, but you don't want to be where I am, not now that I know what this place is.’ He went silent a moment, gave you a small glance before returning his eyes back to the floor. ‘I know you don't like me anymore, I know it because I'm not stupid, but I never needed you to like me, not as long as you kept- we kept doing…’

His voice went quiet but in a new way, one that wasn't Lightning, but Galileo again, your Leo, and underneath it all you saw that he was still there, still waiting for you just like you'd always been waiting for him. ‘Why did you never say anything?’ you asked carefully, you couldn't mess this up now, and his hand rested over his stomach as he met your eye.

‘Why didn't you?’

You could only stare, he knew why you couldn't, and you knew why he didn't. 

‘What do we do now? Can AIA solve this one?’ you tried to joke, but at the mention of her name he steeled; his hands found your wrists as he pulled you back overtop of him, this was new, and your cheeks flushed as you both adjusted until you were sat on his lap for once. 

‘She can't solve everything,’ he whispered like he knew something, this was no joke to him, and you linked your fingers with his just so he'd stop frowning like that.

‘Then what do we do? Because if you're content with this, if we do this again, and then tomorrow I'm back to just being the last one you call when the party's over, then… I don't think I can do this anymore, not after what you said.’ You held him hard so he'd know you were serious this time, you'd almost ended it so many times before but it'd never stuck, but you both knew that this time it would if he just said the word. 

‘You were never the last one I called, not even tonight,’ he told you, and you felt your heart clench in time with your hands over his.

‘You didn't make that clear enough, y'know,’ you laughed with a small sob, and he reached up to bring your mouth back down to his. This kiss felt different from the rest, it was honest, not just desperate for whatever you had before, and you cherished it deeply as you started to rut against him, ready to continue what you'd started a little less miserably now. He groaned against your mouth until you moved a little too hard, the groan turning from something pleasurable to pained as he broke away to gasp. ‘Sorry, guess we might have to be careful for a while,’ you cringed as he rubbed his stomach with a wince.

‘Just until I'm used to it, they told me that it shouldn't be too obstructive in my daily life,’ he hissed, and you watched him before shifting down until you were parting his legs and finding a comfortable place between them. He watched you back as you toyed with the drawstring of his pants, your eyes fond of what you found as he lifted his shirt with one hand and threaded his fingers through your hair with the other.

‘I've always liked your tummy, but I thought it was too personal to say,’ you confessed as you kissed him just under his belly button, the soft hair there tickling your chin as he let out a nervous chuckle.

‘I know I'm not getting abs anytime soon with this,’ he muttered, he was always so self-conscious about the way he looked back then too, and you gave him another kiss before placing your hand over the one in your hair.

‘Good, lemme keep just this, at least,’ you pleaded so gently that he had no choice but to agree, and when he nodded you took the drawstring between your teeth and pulled it until the small bow was no more. He sighed as you started to strip him in return, his clothes much more loose and relaxed than the outfit you'd chosen, and it was nothing but easy as you freed him of everything until he was bare before you. You got to see the full extent of his chemo like this, and it did hurt to see him still sick after everything he'd been doing to prevent this, but this had to be the final step, didn't it? You'd trust that AI if she was right about this, if her smart algorithmic brain really did do the calculations and found the exact path to the end of all this, because, as you pressed kiss after kiss to his thighs until he was a whimpering mess against your pillows, you didn’t want to imagine life without him.

He wasn't used to being loved, even when this started it'd been hot and heavy and fast until you were sweating in the backseat of his old car; there had been no passion there, just the two of you laying there in fear that you'd just ruined everything if the other didn't feel the same. To avoid that outcome entirely you'd just played it off, made it seem like this was just some drunken fun between two friends, and instead of an afterglow you'd slowly gotten used to him just smoking beside you while you held yourself under the covers and pretended it was his arms around you. You wouldn't let that happen again, not tonight, not tomorrow, not any other night you decided, he was always yours and you were going to make sure that Silicon Valley kept Lightning, because you were going to keep Leo.

You took him into your mouth and started to bob, careful to keep him pressed into the sheets so he wouldn't move around too much, and you enjoyed the view as you glanced up and saw the way his back slightly arched, his eyes shut tight in bliss. It was rare you got to do any kind of foreplay, he was always so busy you tended to get the call, go find him at work, or wait for him to show up so you could quickly fuck and get back to your lives. Only sometimes, when the night was late and his slight touches were getting addicting, did he let you take your time, but never like this. 

You'd jerk him off while you watched a movie, and he'd grind against you until you were panting and ready for more, but stuff like this? Where you could worship him slowly and really convey how much you wanted him through your touch, it was almost forbidden. You'd done it only once before, right after he'd gotten the job and you spent the night together to celebrate; he still drank back then, and you'd had too much as you got down on your knees and let him fuck your mouth until it almost came out, the only instance of, ‘I love you,’ that either of you had ever come that close to saying as he painted your tongue and smiling lips white. When he woke up the next morning not remembering the way he'd looked down at you with nothing but love in his eyes, you'd just rolled with it and pretended that you didn't remember either, just another fun night between friends, nothing more had hppened.

You moaned around him until he gripped your hair a little harder, his thighs tensing as he tried not to trap you between his writhing legs, and you lightly dragged your nails over goosebumped skin until his sighs grew louder. If this was really happening, if he was really going to stay instead of going back to his apartment to talk to AIA like she really knew him, then you'd make up for every second you pretended like this wasn't everything to you. You waited until he was just about to come, he was always easy to read in the way his hips would speed up and he'd hold you until you bruised, the only time he left his mark on you because everything else was too intimate, and you dragged your tongue up the underside of his twitching dick before pulling off with a pop. 

‘Wh-why’d you stop?’ he moaned as his hips jutted the air to find you again, and you smiled at him before pulling your underwear down your legs and going for the bottle of lube you kept in your bedside dresser. You didn't answer him with words, his hands kept at bay as you placed them on your hips and made him watch as you stretched yourself open, giving him a proper show so he'd really know how badly you wanted him. His eyes started to lid as he thrusted against your inner thigh, just enough to keep him hard, and you got ready to line him up when he stopped you. ‘The condom’s in my wallet, should still be in my pants,’ he let you know, and you just shook your head before sinking down on him until he was almost crying out. 

‘Tonight, you're mine, I wanna feel you,’ you whispered as you adjusted to his size, and he desperately clung to you as he felt your tight heat for the first time without the familiar barrier to keep you apart. The stent was still new, you couldn't take him apart the way you always imagined in your wildest fantasies where you'd been able to confess, and he couldn't fuck you as hard as he preferred thanks to the stress of work and pretending to be someone so soft and quiet in order to keep selling himself, but this would be perfect all the same you decided as you chose a spot on his shoulders and started to move. Your nails dug into his skin as you braced yourself on him, matching lines of red spreading out under his own hands on you, your breathing wild until you found a steady pace. 

Each time he tried to thrust up you'd slow until he stopped again, a silent warning that was just as torturous on you as it was on him, but no matter what he wouldn't stop to the point where it was making your knees burn from the effort not to move. You begged him to be careful, your voice giving out as he held you a little tighter and got you to slam down a little harder against him, but he just shook his head just like you'd done. ‘You really think… I'm gunna stop now… that I know you're mine?’ he asked directly into your ear when your head dropped down beside his, and any other time you would've shivered from his words but the feeling of the tube brushing against your own stomach was making you nervous.

‘I don't wanna hurt you,’ you whined, but one sweet kiss to your neck shut you up so fast it made your head spin.

‘You've never treated me like I'm fragile before, don't start tonight,’ he implored of you before kissing you again, and only when he sucked a mark that everyone would be able to see did you answer him. You felt him smile against your neck before one arm came up to wrap around your back, his hand sprayed over your neck and trapping you in place as he took a deep breath and started fucking you in earnest, his other hand guiding your hips when you couldn't move at all. You had to fight to keep yourself from laying flat against him, just the bare amount of space between you so you wouldn't shift anything or worse, force the tape to lift right now of all times, and you let him show you just how much he wanted you right back until his hips were speeding up and he was gripping you so hard it was making you keen.

‘Don't pull out, I want everything from you,’ you panted when you felt him slow just a little, he was thinking about it, and he let out the most delectable noise you'd ever heard him make in your life. He sounded like he wanted to argue against it, maybe AIA had filled his head with so much sex ed. that the thought of sleeping with you like this had given him pause, and you sucked in your own deep breath before grabbing on tight and using all your weight to drag him onto his side. This was more like it, you knew he couldn't resist being on top of you especially after your dual confession, and you wrapped your legs around him and forced him to face the fact that he was also starving for this just as you were. You grinned cheekily up at him before he hunched down to kiss your neck again, his stent safe and his core working hard while he finished fucking you.

His hips stuttered to a hard stop as he came inside of you, your entire body shifted up with each final jut of his hips until he was finished, the feeling of his warmth spreading through you while he held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded enough to push you over the edge. Your fingers curled over his short hair as he shakily lowered himself onto you, your legs unhooking but not letting him go as you wrapped them around his own instead, a silent plea to not get up and start his usual ritual of pulling out his vape now that he also stopped smoking. He obliged not because of you but because he wanted to, his voice soft again as he pushed your bangs out of your eyes and whispered sweet nothings that didn't feel like Leo or Lightning as he said them, maybe there was more of him that he’d never let you see before.

‘Y'know, AIA told me never to tell you, she thought that I'd ruin things,’ he said so quietly you almost couldn’t hear even though you were so close. 

‘This is why I know you better than an AI, like how that tea you got tonight sucked ass,’ you finally told him, said tea now long cold on your counter, ‘so maybe you guys should work on making her a mouth so she knows what taste buds are.’

‘It's supposed to be great for my immune system now that I've switched meds,’ he explained, but you waved it off with a grimace. 

‘Start injecting it too then, cause I saw your face every time you took a drink,’ you grumbled on his behalf, and he actually laughed a little before he attempted to sit up. ‘No, please, not yet.’

‘It's almost 10, I'm gunna miss my dose,’ was all he had to say to get you to let go, and the feeling of his come running down your thighs was a little less appreciated than you wanted as he walked back to the kitchen. You wiped yourself off on the closet piece of clothing you could find before joining him, the two of you naked and waiting as he took out his meds from his coat pocket. You hesitated before walking over to him, and he looked self-conscious again before allowing you to see what he had to do from now on; you weren't put off in the least, you'd seen him inject himself with worse to numb the pain as his illness got worse and his self-isolation took hold, and when he was done you brushed your fingertips over the spot where skin turned to tape.

‘Don't be ashamed of this, I wanna see you get better,’ you said without looking up, and he let out a shaky sigh that sounded like he might be holding in more than shame. 

‘I'll have to get used to doing this at work, people will talk,’ he already dreaded, and you let your hands slide over his waist to his back as you pulled him even closer.

‘Then lie, say it's something new age that they'll easily believe, what's that dumbass thing people are saying now? Where they take like supplements and stuff and call it something stupid.’

‘Biohacking?’

‘Fuck that's so pretentious, just say that shit to anyone who asks and they'll buy it with that haircut, trust me,’ you promised dismissively, but instead of berating you for not only making fun of the people he knew but his hair again, or laughing because he knew it'd be true, he just remained silent. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-’

‘You're the only one who's ever honest with me,’ he thought aloud then, and you looked up at him in surprise; for a second you swore you were staring up at the man you knew in college, one blink and he was gone again, but he wasn't gone, he was just older, and looked a little different, but he was still there.

‘It's LA, someone's gotta be a real person down here,’ you joked when you felt yourself get choked up, and you swallowed when his hand cupped your cheek and stopped you from looking away. He kissed you again, and there was no more desperation, no more lies, no more secrets apart from one, one you couldn't find the answer to on his tongue even though you could taste it, and when you heard a small ahem you jumped and covered yourself in a panic from the intruder. ‘The hell-?’

‘Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to remind you that you have an early day ahead, so staying up too late doing strenuous activities will only delay your sleep and risk you injuring yourself in a most unfortunate manner,’ a stranger's voice from nowhere told you, and you looked wildly around before he walked over to his phone, covered the camera with his finger, and motioned for you to stay back. 

‘Thank you, AIA, we were just saying goodnight,’ he told his phone, and your eyes snapped to the device in confusion, hadn't he turned it off? ‘I should be getting home, we're meeting with new potential clients tomorrow and we need to make sure she's fully charged for the trip.’

‘What, no time for a vape session with me out on the balcony?’ You tried not to let your voice waver but of course you failed, of course something would steal him away again now that he was yours.

‘Lightning has actually quit vaping, as the toxins inside do more harm than good based on-’

‘Yes, thank you, I was just gunna say that,’ he cut in before his phone could teach you all about the health hazards of something you didn't even do, and you could see the apology on his face as he kept hiding himself from the camera like she was… watching. ‘Yeah, I don't… I don't do that kinda thing anymore, just drink shitty tea if I feel like torturing myself.’

You laughed, which made him laugh, and for a moment you forgot about his phone until AIA reminded him of the time in case he had no clocks nearby. ‘Y'know, you can always just, spend the night like you used to do, and then we can get up early, maybe grab breakfast at that greasy diner that always manages to make the most perfect bacon while still burning the hell outta their toast,’ you suggested nervously, and he looked down at his phone before shutting it off again, no goodbye to AIA.

‘I haven't had actual bacon in months,’ he revealed as he walked back over to you, and you patted his stomach and started to lead him back to your bedroom.

‘Sounds like you're due, I'll set the alarm, okay? No wakeup calls from nosy AIs needed tomorrow.’ You left him just a moment to grab your own phone, and he frowned at it before nodding, letting you set the alarm so you'd have time to get that breakfast even though the drive was long and he was bound to regret it later when all that grease met the abundance of healthy foods he'd been choking down. You were already looking forward to it, and you didn't notice the way your phone switched to your contacts for just a moment when you set it down, a new name adding itself before it went back to your home screen, your focus only on him as he finally held you under the sheets just the way you'd always wanted.