#its been almost a month since i dyed my hair i am slow man it is what it issssss

[esaari]

[jenosavel]

I have some hard things to confront this morning, of the type that necessitate pulling out what I not-so-lovingly refer to as "the trauma notebook." The presence of that notebook and its associated loose papers are probably the reason I haven't been able to properly clean my desk in... 4 years now.

It's easy to blame that particular mess on ADHD. I've always kept a messier desk than most because of the way my mind works (or doesn't). But this? This is not just the ADHD.

God... it's almost been 4 years. It'll be 4 years next month.

Well, in any case, getting out that notebook this morning, I found some torn out pages from some other notebook stuffed in there. I don't remember writing this, but it's 100% me. It's a journal entry. July 1st, 2021.

This is not what I need to face this morning. I know it's a distraction. A delay of something harder. But revisiting it does remind me of some of what is important to me. It gives me strength.

That cedar is gone now. It's only me and the cherry left here, but I did visit home in the summer since I wrote this. Twice even! I got to say hi to all the relatives I'd been missing so deeply, and even start the process of reconnecting with others that I'd never met.

That has been so healing.

I am strong because of the beings in my life. I can do this.

I CAN do this.

Even though I wrote this journal entry never intending to share it, I'm sharing it now because this morning it gave me that tiny bit of strength when I need all the strength I can find.

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

July 1st, 2021

We talk about a tree falling as if it were a singular event. “When a tree falls in the woods…” But trees don’t do anything quickly, do they? I’ve been watching this cedar out my window for five years now, and something is definitely not right. Every storm it leans a little heavier. I can almost hear it groan, tired of holding up its own weight. I can relate.

It seems like I’m always tired these days, like the weight of this life grows heavier each day I’m stuck here. I miss home. I miss the trees.

Now, a lot of people say that. “I miss the trees.” But I don’t think I mean it the way most people do. They mean camping. Or hiking. Recreating. But when I say it, I mean, “I miss my family.” I miss my dad and my older brother. I haven’t properly chatted with my older brother in a decade. It’s hard to chat when that old maple is always asleep, since I only visit at Christmas.

My new family here is small: an alley stand of cedar and one cherry. Except something is definitely Not Right with the cedar. I remember the way my dad talks to the trees⁠—not like I do, not at them, with them⁠—and I wonder what the cedar would tell him. What burdens does it carry that grow heavier every day? Is it looking for help? A way out? Would my dad take it down?

My dad’s a logger, you see. Or he was? Logging is a young man’s career, and while he held out in it far longer than one could expect, that phase of his life is over now. Over, but never gone. So I guess he is a logger still, in that way. Is and always will be. But not one of those white man loggers that prides themselves on bigger machines and an “efficiency” that really means speed and totality of harvest. He’s the kind that walks the forest and listens. He hears the complaints of the trees, makes the hard calls. He always seems to know better than anyone which trees are suffering, which trees are falling in that slow, silent way that trees fall for years before they come down.

He never taught me how.

I never learned to hear the trees. I can only talk at them, not with them. But right now, watching this cedar, I think I hear it. “The city’s too loud,” it says to me. The harsh pounding of construction, carried down through steel and concrete to soil and root, it’s too loud, and the tree is going deaf. The hairs on its roots are dying, like the hairs in our ears, and without them, the tree can’t find water. It’s dying of thirst in the rainy city, all for want of a newer building.

But maybe that’s just projection. I don’t have my father’s gift. I wish I did, but I’m so far from home now. So far from the trees that knew me. And here, soon it will be just me and the cherry.

“Next spring, I’ll spread your babies,” I promise. I hope she knows what she means to me.

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[melismaticmadness]

TOILET PAPER

Owen Joyner Imagine 

(ITS A LONG ONE BUT ITS DEFINITELY SMUTTY)

Y/n has been dating Owen for a little over a month, and he’s invited her over for the first night in his new, empty apartment. 

3700 Words

Warnings: Contains Smut (18+), language 

Hope you enjoy!

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

Oklahoma City is nothing like LA, I don’t know what possessed Owen to buy a place here when his parents' house is 25 minutes away. Most of his time is spent in LA anyway, but he’s Owen and he wants home to be Oklahoma.

We haven’t been together long but it was nice that he invited me over for the first night in his apartment, sitting on the floor unpacking the last few boxes with some trashy tv on and drinks. What could be better? It’s always nice to just be with him - no matter how boring we are.

As I jumped into my too-tight jeans and put on the button-up crop top I planned to wear, I was a little nervous for tonight. He’s taking a huge step in life, and I’m stuck. My acting career isn’t taking off, college is sucking the life out of me, and I hate my job. Now wasn’t the time to worry about my life though, so I put a little makeup on and turned the music up.

Owen picked me up around 6pm and we stopped to grab burgers for dinner. Eventually, we started making the drive through the city to his apartment. It was so weird knowing that when he’s going home now he’s going home to an empty place. He could do whatever he wanted now, he was finally free. Girls could come and go and no one would know. Girls who are not me could come and go...not that I think he would ever do that. Owen is well known though. He could have any girl he wanted, so I’m sure the temptation has been there. Especially since I won’t put out, not yet. We talked about it and I just have to feel like the moment is right. It’s a big deal for a girl to have sex for the first time.

The apartment is so nice. It somehow feels warm and industrial at the same time. All the paintings he ordered are resting on the wall by the big window, and his tv is of course set up already. Owen takes me by the hand and leads me to his room, abandoning our food on the living room floor.

“Cute. A mattress on the floor, O” I snickered.

“Shut the hell up. I ordered my bed too late and it won't be here for another three days. My mom made me take the mattress from my room at home until it’s here since I wanted to move out now.”

“In a hurry to get out?”

“You have no idea…” he smirked. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Owen, you better get used to starving because you still can’t cook.”

“Maybe one day you can teach me.”

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

Burgers were great as usual, and we put The Music Man on at Owen’s request. He must have just tossed things from his house into random boxes on his way out. I started unpacking and found two hats, a drum pad, hangers, dress pants, and salt and pepper shakers.

I started roasting him for his packing skills and before I knew it he was using the pile of hats as a weapon and was attacking me with them.

“I HAVE NO WEAPONS THIS IS UNFAIR!”

“FIND SOMETHING OR SURRENDER!”

“Never lover boy. You’re going down,” and with that, I found a wooden spoon and started whacking the hats away and eventually swatting him with it.

“I tap out. I TAP OUT!” he yelled in between laughs. I was pinned underneath him on the hardwood floor still playfully hitting him on the butt with my weapon of choice.  

“Ha! You’re no match for me.”

“I think I can win in other ways..” he said, lowering his lips to mine.

I slowly put my arms around his neck and pulled him to lay on top of me. As I was running my hands from the back of his neck down his shoulders, he slid his leg up ever so slightly in between mine. He had gotten so strong in quarantine, not that he wasn’t before, but I could tell he was working out more to keep himself busy. I wasn’t complaining about it though. It felt nice to be held in strong arms.

It felt like we were making out on the floor for hours and we finally came up for some air. It was getting hard laying on the hardwood with this 5’10 blonde on top of me, but I knew he wouldn’t make a move because of our conversation a few weeks ago about me not being ready. That could change now.

“O, since you don’t have a couch yet...can we like to switch or something? You’re cute and all but the floor isn’t.”

“I think my floor is sexy,” he whispered. “Wanna go to my room?”

“Lead the way..”

We were hardly up off the floor before Owen picked me up and carried me to his room and tossed me on the bed. This time our kiss was different. My hands wandered up and down the sides of his body as his tongue traced the depths of my mouth. I returned his edginess by running my hands under his shirt and pressing him closer to me. My hands came around the front to feel the edges of his bare chest and waist. Ungluing my mouth from his for a moment for a gasp of air, I tugged his shirt up.

“You sure?”

“Mmhmm. Take the damn shirt off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He removed the shirt in one quick motion and I propped myself up on my elbows to get a good view. As he tossed the shirt off to the side we both were sitting up and I was grazing my hands over his arms.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

Instead of responding, I inched forward and kissed right above his waistband and traveled all the way up to his lips leaving kisses as I went. He let out a strangled breath as I made the journey and stopped me before I planted my last kiss on his lips.

“You’re gonna have to calm down a little if you don’t want me to have a situation to take care of…”

“Who said I didn’t want to help you take care of it…” His eyes were looking down at me and straight through me.

“I was- Y/n, you don’t have to - I was just kidding,” he said running his hands through his hair and looking away from me.

I had to prove that I was okay with taking things up a notch, so I grabbed his hips and started massaging him over his pants. Owen grabbed my face and kissed me, sucking all the air out of me as I kept kneading his hips and thighs. Slowly my hand moved to palm his dick through his pants.

I could feel his chest tense up and he sat up a little straighter.

“I think it’s time I lose some clothing too.. What do you think?”

Before even answering he was reaching for the buttons on the front of my shirt.

He was struggling with so many buttons. I knew they were too small for him to get so I stopped what I was doing and had to pull the shirt over my head.

Owen immediately told me I was gorgeous and I could tell he was trying to look me in the eyes versus at my boobs.

“You can touch me, ya know..” I whispered, almost as if I was scared of someone hearing me, but no one would. We were finally alone. It was just us at this moment. No thought of parents or siblings coming home. No worry about roommates hearing, or puppies crying from outside the door to kill the mood. This was it. I was ready. Tonight, I am going to christen this apartment with him.

Owen’s hands were shaking ever so slightly as he rubbed my arms and made his way to my chest. He placed a kiss right where my cleavage met and I could’ve died. His hands were huge and looking at my breasts in them made me worry that he had seen bigger.

He was kissing my collarbones and tracing every inch of exposed skin with his tongue. He slowly laid me down and said, “You’re perfect. This is perfect. We can stop, just tell me-” His voice was so low and raspy, but I cut him off with a kiss before he could keep talking.

Owen continued licking and petting my boobs, so I decided to be daring. I was dragging my fingers down his abs when I hit the little trail that led into his pants. Instead of reversing my course like I did before, this time my hand wandered lower into his boxers.

Gently, my hand explored the warm skin and curly hair before grabbing hold of his dick and giving it a squeeze.

“Woah,” he grunted, “Can't do that, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’m still winning then, see?” I said teasingly.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, O. Why?”

“Let me try something. Tell me to stop if you need me to.” He said planting a kiss on my lips after I nodded.

He readjusted himself in his pants and then started attending to me. Sliding my bra straps off my shoulders he lifted me up and reached behind me to unhook it. My breath caught in my throat when I felt the clasp fall open. He pulled it away and I reacted by covering myself up.

“It’s just me. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just go slow.” Now I was shaking. I want this, but I’m still scared.

“I won’t do anything without asking.” He’s being such a gentleman and I was the one teasing him first.

He pulled my arms down and took a nipple in his mouth. He twirled his tongue around and sucked while playing with the other. My stomach was flopping around and the feeling of butterflies was traveling down between my legs. Owen started giving my other nipple attention with his mouth as his hand traveled down my torso.

His hand stopped when he hit the button of my jeans and just started playing with it. He looked up at me with his green eyes asking if he should keep going.

I took his hand and shoved it into my pants. He was definitely surprised but he found the top of my folds while still staying over my thong.

“Babe, your jeans are too tight my hand is losing circulation in there.” He said pulling his hand out.

“I can fix that,” and off my pants went.

Now we were both doing this dance in our underwear of making out and dipping our fingers into uncharted territory.

Owen suddenly pulled me to the edge of his bed and was kneeling on the floor, nudging my legs open.

“What are you-“

“You still trust me right?”

“Owen, I-

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No. But I haven’t done anything yet-“

“Let me keep going then you can help me with my… situation,” he smirked. “Close your eyes. Relax.”

I did as I was told and felt Owen reach for the elastic waistband of my thong and pull it down. Oh my god. My cunt was throbbing at this point. I was dying for him to touch me again, but he was teasing me.

His hands started massaging my feet and up my calves and legs. He got to my thighs and kept his hands low. Then I felt him lay next to me on the bed as his lips met mine and his hands rubbed my stomach and fingers inched back down to my cunt.

His dick was pressed against the outside of my body and I could tell he was rock solid. How he was still in his pants, I will never know.

“Y/n, do you want me to stop?” I shook my head no and his finger gently parted my folds. I was holding his shoulder so tight, partly because of nerves and partly because I had never felt this way before.

“Have you touched yourself before? Like we talked about...” He whispered as his finger slid past my clit agonizingly slow.

“Yes,” I gasped, “just a few times.”

“What do you think about?”

I couldn’t answer him. My mind was racing and my heart was beating too fast.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, y/n?” This time he asked through gritted teeth.

“You...I think about you…”

“Show me how you did it”

“No!” He took his hand out from between my legs, grabbed my hand, and led it down my body to the place he just left.

“Show me.” Owen sat up and slid back to the floor to watch what I was doing.

I lightly dipped one finger down to my vagina and back up to my nub. I started alternating between rubbing circles around my clit and the opening of my vagina. My legs were still moderately closed so Owen wasn’t happy with his view.

He pushed my knees apart and now my pink folds were on display.

“Keep your eyes closed, y/n.”

Owen used one hand to spread my lips wide open and the other to trace my wetness up to my clit. With his thumb, he applied pressure and moved in circles painfully slowly over my most sensitive spot.

Soon his hand left my clit and started poking my entrance ever so slightly. The next thing I knew, his tongue was on my clit picking up the pace and his finger was two knuckles deep inside me.  

His tongue was working even faster now and I was so wet I could feel it dripping down to my ass cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a lot of pressure down there and I opened my eyes to see him two fingers deep in my pussy and his nose hurried in my folds. I was panting and he was giggling at the noises I was making because of him.

His hand never stopped moving but he looked up at me and said, “You’re unbelievably tight. Have you touched yourself like this?”

Truth be told, nothing had ever been inside me until now. Not even a tampon. I never had a reason to use one.

Inside of me, his fingers curled and hit a spot that made me jump.

“You still good?” He asked, stopping everything.

“Don’t stop,” I panted, “please, faster...harder.” I was squirming now with his hand stationary inside me.

“What exactly do you want me to do for you?”

“Keep touching me god, Owen. Lick me again.”

With that, he was pumping his fingers harder and faster than ever and his tongue was flicking my clit. I started feeling like I was hyperventilating and like I was going to pee. The butterflies and pressure building inside of me were intense but the moans coming out of my mouth told Owen he was doing a great job.

“Owen, I’m gonna pee! O, I’m gonna-“ He took his mouth away and replaced it with his hands to watch me finish for the first time. He continued to pump his two fingers and started rolling my clit between his thumb and index finger with his other hand. I was lifting my hips to meet his hand and he was trying to push me back down to the bed. My whole body was starting to spasm and I was a little scared. I was losing control of my body and had no idea what was happening. His hands were like magic. Owen spread my legs even wider and continued his rhythm. His fingers curled into me even further and it sent shockwaves through my body and I was lost in a frenzy. To his surprise and mine, I squirted all over his hands. He didn’t stop pumping and circling my clit until I was squeezing my legs together and pushing his hands away. Owen kissed me as I came down from my high and I caught my breath.

“Oh my god. Owen, I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t know I would pee. Oh my god.”

“Babe, you didn’t pee. That’s just what happens when you get off really well. It’s all good; no worries.”

“I never felt that way before. I felt like I never wanted you to stop but I also felt like I was exploding”

“Well, I don’t have to stop,” he said laughing and fake spreading my knees again.

“Hey, lover boy it’s your turn,” I said pushing him to the bed now.

“Wait, you don’t have-“ I was too quick. I already had his pants down by his knees and was fighting to get them off. After some help from Owen, and him removing his boxers, we were both completely naked together for the first time. He was much bigger than I anticipated with my hand down his pants. That was not going to fit inside me. There was just no way. He could barely get two fingers in me.

I looked him up and down and was taking it all in when he just blurted out, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Maybe next time, blondie,” I said as I traced through his neatly trimmed hair and all the way down his length to his tip. He closed his eyes and shivered, so I stuck the tip in my mouth.

His eyes opened and bulged out of his head at the sudden sucking I was doing. My tongue swirled around his most sensitive part as my hands played with him at the base and his balls.

Owen tucked my hair behind my ear as I looked up at him. I slid more of his member into my mouth taking almost all of it without gagging. As I slid back to the tip, I let my teeth drag just a bit.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. You gotta go easy on me or I won’t last long.”

With a pop, I released him from my mouth and his dick was flushed and the veins were purple. Twitching as I slowly pumped it with my hands, his dick was releasing a tiny bit of clear liquid. I used my hands to spread it all over him which made my job even easier.

I had an idea, so now it was his turn to trust me.

“O, help me. I need you inside me.”

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy and I knew he didn’t want to stop, but would if I asked him to. I wanted this though.

“Yes. Tell me what to do.”

“No, let me take care of you.”

He flipped us over and began rubbing me again while kissing my neck.

“I love you. You know that?” Owen said in between kisses.

“I love you too.”

“Let me just- fuck!”

“What? What’s wrong?” I was startled by how mad he suddenly got.

“I don’t have anything. We can’t.”

“I have an IUD. It’s ok.”

“You wanna- No. Let me go run and see if I have something in my wallet. It’s your first time I don’t want you to worry.”

“Owen, I want to feel all of you since it’s my first time,” I said reaching down and grabbing his dick and lining it up with my heat.

“Babe, it might hurt. I’m so sorry, I’ll stop if you need me to.”

“Just do it, I’ll be ok.” With that, he pushed himself right up to my entrance and I already could tell this wasn’t going to work.

“It’s not gonna fit, Owen. Oh god.”

“Hey, relax. I know you’re nervous but it really won’t fit if you’re not relaxed.” He laughed.

“I’m gonna kiss you as I go in, okay? You can still tell me to stop.”

He went in for the kiss and slowly pushed the tip inside me. It was uncomfortable but bearable.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better, I think. I’m going to keep going.” He was holding his breath at this point as he slid about three inches further inside of me. He didn’t want to rush me but he wanted to fuck my brains out at the same time.

He hit something inside of me and I yelled.

“Ah! Stop! Wait!”

“Okay, Okay. Do you want me to stay or pull out?”

“Stay, stay...okay. Just do it fast.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and broke the barrier. I grit my teeth and cursed, and tried to close my legs. He held me close and wiped a tear as it escaped. We didn’t move for a solid minute as I waited for my vagina to get used to his size.

“Move. You can move.” I whispered.

He gave a little grunt in response and started pumping in and out of me slowly.

After a few minutes of Owen going painfully slow, he lifted my knees up higher and started going faster. I grabbed his butt and started pressing him into me.

“Harder. Please.”

He listened and started pounding me. I didn’t know anything could feel this good.

“Babe, I’m close.” He panted.

“I think I am too.” At that point, he picked up the pace again. Now I was bucking my hips up to meet his thrusts. I could feel him throbbing inside of me trying to hold back. I clenched my muscles a little and heard him let out a high pitched little yell.

I pulled his chain and we were pressed chest to chest, covered in sweat, and fucking like bunnies.

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“No!”

“Then I won’t last much longer,” he slid a hand between us and started rubbing my clit as fast as he was pounding me.

“Me neither.” I spread my legs wider and he finally hit the spot.

My walls tightened and as soon as they did I felt him release inside of me. His moans were intoxicating and I came undone.

“O, O, I’m cumming. Don’t stop.”

He did a few more hard strokes and we both were too sensitive to keep going.

Owen pulled out after a few minutes and I missed him inside me. We were naked, facing each other after being as close as two people could be.

“Thank you for that,” I said.

“Glad to be of service,” he joked.

“I’m gonna go grab things to clean up. Be right back.”

“Mm ‘kay,” I responded, almost drifting to sleep.

“Fuck me.” I heard Owen say from the bathroom.

“What’s wrong, hun?”

“I forgot to buy toilet paper..”

“Guess that means we both need a shower..”

[alfredosauce50]

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California. 

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice? 

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you. 

So here I am. 

Surely, that wouldn’t fly. 

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place. 

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it. 

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it. 

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared. 

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug. 

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all. 

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”  

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?” 

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting. 

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect. 

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.” 

“... But where’s Lilli?”  

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.” 

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger. 

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point. 

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?   

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant. 

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!” 

“Why, because I’m… European?” 

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points. 

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?” 

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.” 

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here. 

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon. 

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving. 

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor? 

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him. 

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him. 

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?” 

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.” 

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy,  good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why. 

You figured you’d ask later. 

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”  

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.” 

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction. 

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken. 

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?” 

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion. 

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand. 

Something was wrong, for sure. 

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right. 

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand. 

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive? 

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave. 

And when he did, Basch lost his shit. 

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail. 

That was right. Since when was he so possessive? 

So jealous? 

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt. 

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance. 

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay. 

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se. 

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake. 

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?” 

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.” 

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his. 

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had. 

But why didn’t he ever tell you? 

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”  

Because he’d been denying it. 

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.” 

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame. 

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.” 

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth. 

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way. 

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head. 

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before. 

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered. 

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years. 

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills. 

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his. 

In fact, it excited him.

[writerofblocks]

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

[willowbird]

For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)

Ooh definitely!

Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.

Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.

Warning for mentions of blood.

---

"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.

Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.

The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".

Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.

The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.

"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.

Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.

The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.

Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.

Maybe it was Kevin.

That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.

No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.

Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.

It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.

Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.

"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.

The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.

Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."

Andrew froze. "What did you say?"

"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.

The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.

Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.

Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.

Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"

"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."

"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"

Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.

Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.

"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."

"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."

"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."

"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.

"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.

In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.

"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"

"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.

"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.

"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."

"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"

Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"

Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.

All Neil said was, "It's a long story."

As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.

The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.

[danielleslegacy]

Mints || Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: yes / no

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Y/n and the team are taking a case where woman have been dying having eaten poisoned mints. 

Word Count: 2,514

Warnings: Needles, Vomit, hospitals, death, extreme angst. 

Pairing: Reader insert x Spencer Reid

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

This case was a particularly hard one, the unsub had killed 3 women in 3 days, but we couldn’t figure out the cause. Spencer had figured out some kind of geographical profile, but without more information about the victims, there was nothing we could do. The women were all connected by coming in to the police station to report a petty crime a day before their death. The team theorized that the petty crimes were committed by the unsub, but other than that we couldn’t figure it out. The women were different ethnicities, age ranges and socioeconomic status’.

“You okay?” A voice calls, breaking me out of my thoughts as the team begins to discuss the profile for the latest serial killer. I turn my head and my eyes lock onto Spencer’s concerned face, we had been dating for a little over five months. I nod my head and turn back to the group, not really paying attention to the information that is being discussed. My feet begin to feel tingly beneath me, but I brush it off and just start to move my feet a little, trying to get the feeling back in them. But when that doesn’t work, I notice my head has started to spin too. My vision gets slightly blurry and I slowly bob down so that I’m closer to the ground, just in case I pass out.

“Y/n?” Director Hotchner calls out, “Do you need a moment?”

A hand rests on my shoulder as I shake my head, leaning my forehead down to the floor. “No it’s fine, keep going.”

The meeting continues, my forehead pressed to the floor and the hand that, I’m assuming belongs to Spencer, rubs small circles across my back in a reassuring way. Once the spinning slows down and I can feel my feet again I lift my head back up and try to pay attention to the conversation that is being had.

“So, what? It’s a poison that is killing these women?” Morgan’s voice says next, my brows furrow in an attempt to concentrate on his words.

“Poison?” I ask, everyone's eyes cast down to where I am sitting on the ground. “Where is the poison coming from?” My eyes snap up to meet Spencer’s searching for the answer.

“The M.E thinks that it was in some kind of mint, which is an odd choice,” Emily says, flipping through the reports in front of her. “You don’t look so good Y/n, you sure you’re okay?”

My face pales in realization, the mint I swallowed earlier begs to make a reappearance. The panic must be evident on my face, “You need to take me to the hospital right now.” Everyone gives me an odd look, and Spencer’s movements cease. “I had one of the mints from the front desk. The other women must have too. They were all the day before they died. I need to get to the hospital.”

The team springs into action, Hotch on the phone requesting an ambulance to pick me up. Spencer’s arm looping around my waist to try to pull me up off the ground, Derek jumping to the other side. I attempt to stand up on my feet but I can’t feel them again and my head goes more fuzzy than it had before, so I have to heavily lean on the men to even raise myself up.

“Ambulance will be here in two minutes, let’s get her outside,” Hotch announces, and everyone begins to take me outside, discussing my dizziness and the way I had been acting.

But I can hardly hear them trying to keep consciousness, I begin talking, “I took a mint from the front desk at approximately nine-thirty last night before I went back to the hotel, so if the other woman died within 24 hours, we have a few hours. It was a little red and white candy and it did taste a little funny.”

“Funny how?” Spencer asks, he knew that I was trying to give a statement while I was still conscious.

“Soapy,” I slightly slur, “ I was going to spit it out but I couldn’t find a garbage bin.”

“Who was at the desk?”

“A white man, around 35, He greeted me and offered me the mint,” I let out a gasp, “Spence he’s the unsub you have to g-.” But I can’t finish my sentence as the entirety of my stomach begins to empty, a trash can is thrust underneath me. Once I am finished the paramedic’s are in front of us with a stretcher, I’m pulled out of the boys arms and layed down.

“Spence,” I call out, tears spring to my eyes as panic reaches up my throat for the first time since we discovered I had been poisoned. My hand reaching up towards the sky hoping he would hear me, when his hand grips mine, and his hard rakes my hair out of my face I feel myself relax. “I’m really scared.”

He nods his head, concern laced in his features, “I know baby, but it’s going to be okay.”

Needles are stuck into my arm and people begin to rush around me, trying to get my vitals. “You have to catch him Spence.”

“Garcia is already looking through the surveillance cameras to try to find out who we’re looking for. You don’t even need to worry, just hold on Y/n,” He presses his lips to my forehead just as my stretcher is lifted into the ambulance. Our hands disconnect and the paramedics talk around me.

“Sir, are you coming with us?” One of them asks, to whom I assume is Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“We’ve got it here, keep her safe,” Hotch replies to him encouraging him to get into the ambulance with me, and I assume he does, but I couldn’t tell you. The panic in my chest and all of the voices and the spinning of my head and the numbness of my body make it hard to tell what is happening to me. People keep saying things like ‘focus on my voice’ or ‘breathe for me’ and all i can do is lie limp on the stretcher, paralysed. My eyes flick around rapidly but I can’t find Spencer at all and a part of me fears he didn’t come. I close my eyes and try to feel each part of my body, and I notice a heaviness in my left hand and I know that he's with me. With that knowledge I let darkness overcome me and I slip away, the last thing I hear is monitors blipping all around me, indicating my heart rate has slowed dramatically.

The smiling face of Spencer fades in from the darkness, and he lets out a laugh of pure joy. A smile comes to my face as I extend my hand out to meet his cheek.

“Hi Spence,” I say softly, “Where are we?” My eyes glance around the pitch blackness.

He says nothing in response and just gestures up towards where a screen is now suddenly playing the view of an operating room. People run around working quickly, trying to keep the person on the table alive. Words I don't fully understand are thrown around and tools that send shivers down my spine are thrusted into the person's body, trying to get the heart to restart. Someone in the room runs past the front of the table knocking the drape off of the person's face. It's me.

Panic claws its way at my chest and machines begin beeping crazily from the screen. Tears meet my eyes.

“What is happening Spence?” I ask turning back to where he had previously been standing only to be met with nothing. My breathing starts to deepen and my head starts spinning. My knees collapse from beneath me and I slam my fists into the ground, wanting nothing more than to be back into the real world, holding Spencer’s hand. Catching the guy that poisoned me.

It’s almost as if the ground swallows me up and spits me back out as I open my eyes again and find myself in a hospital room. The first sensation that comes to me is that my mouth is dry, like very dry. The next thing I notice is that I am freezing everywhere except my left hand. I cast my eyes down and I am met with my boyfriend's fluffy brown locks, his head rested on the edge of my hospital bed, his hand linked with mine.

I attempt to squeeze his hand to get his attention and before I can even think about what to say to him his head has snapped up, eyes locking with mine. A wide grin spread across his face and he leans up to press a soft kiss to my forehead.

“I missed you so much,” is all he says, before he presses the button to alert the nurse that you were awake. “Water?”

I nod my head gently, taking a sip of the cup that he had raised up for me. “Did you catch him yet?”

Spencer’s face changes then, his face conveys that this news is going to be hard to handle. “Louis Thompson, aged thirty seven, widow and a chemist. He laced the mints with some drug Aconite, a drug that paralyses the nerves, and muscles. He was found in the precinct bathroom after ingesting an unknown amount of the mints, dead on the scene.” I nod my head trying to make sense of the situation.

“How long has it been?”

“Your heart stopped on the way to the hospital, twice however paramedics were able to resuscitate you,” He says, eyes locked with yours, the only emotion that can be found is fear, however, i can tell that he's trying to only use facts when explaining this all to me to avoid letting his own tears fall, “Once in the emergency room your liver began to fail, however, the doctors on your case were quick to figure out the drug used, and they were able to appropriately assess the situation. Your heart stopped once again in the trauma room and they were once again able to restart it. They injected you with atropine and you stabilized quickly after that. That took a total of three hours and twenty-one minutes. That was almost seven hours ago.”

“Thank you,” I say, my hand gripping him even tighter.

“I was so scared Y/n, I couldn’t help you,” He says, eyes shining with tears. A nurse comes in, forcing Spencer and me to break apart while she assesses me and makes sure everything is okay.

“I’m going to call the team and let them know you’re awake, they are downstairs,” He says, a faint smile on his face as he exits the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

The nurse leaves soon after determining that I’m doing perfectly fine, telling me to take it easy and to press the button if I have any discomfort, and not even seconds later the rest of my team is parading in through the door, smiles on their faces, albeit a few tear stains.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” I say letting out a laugh, my own subtle way of letting them know that I’m fine. My eyes rake across the group's faces, locking eyes with each of them, their faces practically unmoving as they study me. “Guys come on, I’m alright.”

Suddenly, as if they had been broken out of a trance they gather around the sides of my bed.

“Glad to see you’re okay Agent L/n,” Hotch says, with a nod and a small smile.

“I was so worried,” JJ says, placing a reassuring hand onto my shoulder.

I give her a watery smile, tears rising to my eyes and pat her hand, turning my face around the group, “I was too, but I’m fine now. I promise,” I begin to search for Spencer, wanting the comfort he gives me, “Where did Spence go?”

Panic builds in my throat, making talking impossible. The machine still hooked up to my chest starts to beep rapidly, making the whole room aware of the fear that is taking a hold of me.

“Hey no, it's okay, I'll go find him, he probably just went to go get a coffee,” Morgan says reassuringly, tapping my leg and walking out of the hospital room.

Once he has completely left the room. “I need you to tell me the truth, how did Spencer handle it? Should I be worried?”

“He wasn’t calm,” JJ begins, “But he let us do our job. He stayed out of the way and tried to keep his mind busy the best he could, in the only way he could, he worked the case from the waiting room. Y/n, he was angry and scared, but he was still Spencer, I don’t think you need to worry. He didn’t go off the rails, he was here, waiting for you.”

I nod my head, fresh tears falling slowly down my cheeks, in the corner of my eyes I notice the boys on their way back, I quickly wipe my tears away, not wanting Spencer to see me upset.

“There are the boys,” I say, stretching my hand out towards Spencer, and as our hands link I bring my eyes up to meet his and notice that they’re bloodshot and rimmed in red. He had been crying. My heart drops in my chest and I force a smile up at him. I can tell her notices my red eyes too by the way his soften and his other hand reaches up to brush down my cheek softly.

“We really should be leaving, we will see you both soon,” Hotch announces, encouraging the other to follow his lead, each saying a swift goodbye and good luck on their way out the door.

Once they’re all gone I let out a sigh and close my eyes, relaxing my body into the hospital bed.

“I missed you,” Spencer says softly, taking a seat in the chair next to mine.

“Please kiss me Spence, “ I practically beg him, allowing my eyes to water. He leans over quickly pressing his lips to mine softly. His own tears mixing with mine along our cheeks. The kiss doesn’t progress any further, just remaining innocent, letting us be together.

He pulls away, wiping his thumbs underneath my eyes, ridding my face of tears, before doing the same to his own.

“I promise you Spence, I’m okay,” I smile, “When can I go home?”

“They want to observe you for a few more hours and then I can take you home,” He says, a faint smile on his lips, “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

I feel my head nod as the painkillers that I’m assuming they gave me begin to kick in and the world begins to slip away.

“I love you,” Are the last words I hear just as sleep overcomes me.

[fourmarkdove]

Cider.

Prompt: How about an angsty Henry x reader: she is told during a nightmare/dream that she has only one day left to live - and that she must not reveal anything to her loved ones! Waking up in Henrys arms and realize how lucky she was... Even if it couldnt last forever... @scorpionchild81

Title: Cider.

Words: 3k

Summary: Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Fluff. You hear in a dream you have only one day left to live.

Paring: Henry x reader

Warnings/Triggers: Anxiety, nightmares, panic attacks, dissociative disorder, death/dying. DD/lg if you squint and stand on one foot. (I think that’s everything?)

A/N: Pretty close to the prompt. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading!

~

Henry inhaled deeply, expanding his lungs audibly as he sat up in the bed you shared. He stroked a soothing hand over the curve of your hip while squinting in the dark, searching for the sound that woke him.

Clutching onto your pillow, you buried your face and mewled into it. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched you lying on your side, tense from the battle behind your closed eyes. His brows knitted with concern. It’d been so long since the nightmares claimed you, he thought for the last few weeks that maybe they’d gone altogether. He was clearly mistaken.

Dropping onto his forearm beside you, he carded his fingers through your hair and called to you gently. His first instinct was to burst through those fiery doors to hell and drag you back to this side of consciousness and safety, but it never worked that way. He had to tread gently, let you return to him on your own time. And it was incredibly painful to watch and wait for.

“Darling?” he beckoned, scratching the stubble on his chin over your shoulder like a puppy. “I’m here.”

Your lips parted and nails clawed into the pillow so sharply that the fabric finally ripped along the seam and soft white feathers fluffed out. A frown set his features hard. Cuddling his much larger frame to you, his thick arms encompassed you completely and thighs drew up close behind yours. He pressed his lips just behind your ear and let his warm breath fan over your skin.

“I’ll wait right here with you, Nugget.” As he began to gently rock your body, your grip on the pillow relaxed and he cooed into your ear about what a good girl you were.

Keeping his arms flexed tightly around your body, he hummed a soft tune, remembering how you always fell asleep in his arms in the hammock out back. He’d put a foot down to keep the two of you swaying, and he’d settle you on his chest, right under his chin, so you’d feel it when it’d rumble in his chest. Eventually you’d succumb to his comforting, and he’d feel your body melt into his long frame. He’d scratch the back of your arms, rub circles over your back, even hold your ass with a squeeze that’d make you sigh. You called it the ‘anxious hammock‘; his woman could call it anything she wanted so long as she felt protected and loved in it.

You’d been extra anxious lately with the news and social distancing and people in your social circle getting sick. And with him leaving your self imposed quarantine to focus on training going back to the Witcher set soon, it really ramped up your anxiety. 

It expressed itself little by little, starting with hugs around his neck as he was about to leave for the gym, but then when he would straighten up, you’d still be clinging on, dangling off of your feet. He’d chuckle and kiss all over your face, leaving you smiling. But other times, he’d find you hugging your knees, tears rolling down your cheeks until the shower ran cold and turned your lips almost blue. 

Other nights, he fully knew what your migraines looked like, so when you’d pretend to have one just so you could avoid dinner, he worried. He still finished dinner, cleaned up a bit, walked Kal and came to bed early with that lavender lotion you liked smeared into his palms. You and he spent a lot of time in that bed together, or the hammock, or the shower, just touching and being together. 

When things felt so uncertain and all of the words and tears were wrung out, you’d take turns massaging oil or lotion into each other. He always needed his kitten’s touch kneading against his sore muscles. And you needed his strength to pull you from the anxious knots you tied yourself into.

It really should have come as no surprise that the nightmares returned. The problem was that he wanted to do more - to solve an unsolvable problem - and that frustrated him to no end. He applied himself and conquered so many other areas of his life but in this part, the most important part, he had to be patient.

Sliding his arm under your head like a pillow, he gently tilted your hips back into him to locate the blanket you tucked between your legs. He knew this was more of a marathon than a sprint, so he settled in with a clenched jaw and tried to exhale slowly and sleep.

The black void is a gasping, vacuous, gaping maw threatening to consume first your sanity and then eternity. You can feel the voice rattling through your rib cage, long before the words make conscious sense.

“One day,” the voice calls from nowhere and everywhere. “One day left and then no more.”

Your entire body shudders free of its own volition and you’re aware of the crisp, scratchy bedsheets under your body. Antiseptic. Something metallic on your tongue. Dripping, beeping, wooshing. Buzzing purple fluorescent lights above. Your eyes roll open, vaguely aware of a nurse checking bags, pushing buttons, lifting your blankets. No privacy, no options, no voice.

Why am I here in this hospital? Why am I alone? ‘One more day’ and then - no more?

Panic sets in. You want to scream but the words won’t come out. There’s so much you wanted to do with your life. So many places you were going to see. You wanted to start a family with Hen... wait. Where is Henry? Does he know where you are? What if he doesn’t and you never get to say goodbye? 

The thought of tears spilling over those bright blue eyes of his, knowing you’d never be able to hold him again, kiss him again made everything in your being ache. You are desperate to cry out but nothing. It’s as if you’re dead already.

Almost as soon as his long lashes closed over his stormy blue eyes, like falling down into your own body, every muscle jerked and you gasped back into consciousness.

Scrambling to sit up, you drew your legs in to get your feet under you. You tore away the covers and your hoarse voice ripped through your parched vocal cords: “Hhhhhhennnnryyyy!”

“I’m here, Nugget,” he offered, his broad shoulders ghosting behind you.

Despite its size, his hand curving around your ribs was incredibly gentle. You shuddered at his touch; horror darkened your pupils and bottom lip quivered like a harp string vibrating to the point of breaking. Your nails clawed desperately into the sweatpants covering his thigh. Lips parted, but no words formed just yet; your eyes closed tightly and fingers touched your lips ruefully.

“Just a dream, sweet,” he comforted in a strong baritone, wrapping his whole hand around your small fingers. “You’re alright. See? Your Henry Bear is right here. Let me hold you, darling?”

Nodding emphatically, you dug your toes into the sheets and launched your whole body at him, not thinking for one moment about how pathetic your whimpers and trembling arms clinging around his neck might have seemed.

His brows lifted in the center and he continued to follow your gaze right up until you buried your face in his neck. The corner of his lips ticked upwards only briefly, before he nuzzled his face into your hair. 

It was stored in his muscle memory by now just where to grasp under your bare thighs, so you could bend your knees and spread over his hips so he could ease you down into a more comfortable position in his lap. There was no awkwardness negotiating who needed to move which limb where because you’d been doing this for years. 

Only recently there was less blushing over soaked panties or groans caused by awkward erections; just within the last six months you found yourselves single simultaneously and decided to give it a try.

Your breath was hot and stilted between sobs into his shoulder; his stubble along his jawline was scratchy against your forehead and temple but you didn’t mind. You just needed the closeness. Lifting your hair up into a ponytail, he pursed his lips, and blew cool air across your sweaty neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he questioned, rubbing slow circles with spread fingertips over your back. Your body tensed at his words but began to relax again when you wound your fingers dipped into his chocolate curls.

“I… don’t want to die,” you could barely whisper over his broad shoulder. “I don’t want YOU to die.”

“Oh Nugget,” he sighed, kissing the nape of your neck. “You dreamed I died?”

“No,” you hiccuped, pulling away and tapping the K on his soft gray shirt, attempting to distract yourself while you explained. “I was. And I wasn’t - wasn’t going to see you and - My heart, Hen. It - it feels broken.”

Cupping your face in both hands, he lifted your gaze and kissed your wet cheeks. “Look at us right now…”

Sniffling, you tucked your hands in between his biceps and forearms. “I know. I - It just felt so real. It feels so real. I’m not sure this feels real. It’s too nice to be real. You are too nice. I don’t know how to be sure...”

Deep worry lines etched over his forehead. Pressing his lips together in a flat line, his nostrils flared and he crossed his arms over his chest, peeling off his shirt.

The bear of a man breathed deep and slow, opening his hands to you. He gave you a wide berth; there would be no forcing - ever. His was a silent invitation to this familiar tango you’d only ever done with him.

Your gaze darted from his large palms resting against your thighs to his patient blue eyes watching you carefully.

“It’s alright, darling,” he encouraged, the softest of smiles lifting the apples of his cheeks. He wiggled his long fingers and you held your breath, sliding your hands into his. You felt the rough spots and calluses from the weights, the weaponry, the rope work, the horses. He worked so hard and should be sleeping right now instead of dealing with whatever mess you brought to him.

His soft kiss pressed to your forehead drew you from your thoughts. “Keep going,” he whispered against your hairline and you narrowed your eyes, focusing on his hands again. 

They were warm and so strong holding you and - oh - his middle and index fingers. The amazing things they did together. You forced yourself to stop thinking of it but your two fingers stroking inside his two fingers, and the furious blush across your cheeks, made him chuckle.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned broadly. Despite your blush, you continued to dance your fingertips inside his forearms, feeling the veins and sinewy muscle, the thick curve of his biceps and and shoulders. With a soft sigh, you lifted your head, kissed his clavicle and nuzzled into the light smattering of his scratchy chest hair. It was your favorite place to cuddle into. 

His particular masculine scent filled your senses and soothed every frayed, exposed nerve in your body; his musk reminded you of spices like cinnamon and nutmeg, orange and cranberry being mixed into hot apple cider on a crisp fall day.

You continued to lazily trace lines along his ribs and down his back, but he knew by your sigh that you’d come home. Tenderly sweeping your hair over your shoulder, he slowly and deliberately slid one arm high across your shoulders and the other low around the small of your back.

“I’m sorry, my love,” you murmured, your voice returning to its usual sweet timbre. It signaled you were returning from the frenzied dissociative state kicked off by that horrifically anxious nightmare. It meant he could speak to you differently, touch you differently.

“You don’t need to be, sweetheart,” he countered, kissing your forehead.

Sweeping your fingers along the stubble of his jawline, you cooed whisper softly and tentatively brushed your lips to his. Securing you to himself, he touched noses and parted lips, deepening the first kiss. Your fingers pushed into the back of his hair and tugged just gently enough to make you both smile.

With a deep, rumbling purr, he grabbed your hips and rolled you easily under him. He caressed two knuckles over your temple and teased your lips apart with his; he chuckled when you chased after his mouth for another.

But you pressed the heels of your palms against his chest and immediately he planked his body, lifting all of his considerable weight off of your much smaller frame.

Shutting his eyes tight, he huffed an exasperated breath and clenched his jaw. He should have known better. It was much too soon to touch you like this.

He intended to roll off and give you all of the comforting and cuddles you needed - until you wiggled a little under him. You shifted just a bit on the bed, reaching down and dragging your t-shirt up your bare stomach. His head was dropped just enough so his dark curls caressed your chest when you lifted your shirt off over your head and sighed softly under him.

You couldn’t help but giggle just a little at the arched brow and wide eyes he gave you when his gaze dragged up your nearly naked body to your face again.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “Ah, all better?”

“Yes, my love. Thank you.” Your answer was purely peaches and innocence during the act of wrapping your arms behind his neck drawing him down to you; only this time, he kept some of his weight lifted onto his forearms tucked under your shoulders.

“I thought I was crushing you.” He had a hint of playful warning in his tone.

“Oh. No, you know I love it even if you were,” you cooed, bending your knees and drawing your soft thighs up his ribs. “Isn’t it Oxytocin from the skin to skin contact?”

He smirked and grunted, catching one of your feet working on dragging the sweatpants down his hip. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

The corner or your lips twitched and your chest felt heavy all over again. You hated to admit it but the specter always lingered. “At the moment.”

“I know darling. We do these things one day at a time though, don’t we? Sometimes, by the minute?” He glanced up while you rolled the curls of his hair over your fingers. Collecting your wrist, he drew it to his mouth and kissed your hand.

Swallowing hard, you blinked but a tear escaped and rolled down your temple.

“Hey, shhh, Nugget.”

You sniffled and looked up into those beautiful, truly concerned, blue eyes of his. “You’re so much better than I deserve, Henry.”

He sighed and his shattered heart tore away from your gaze. Rocking his hips further down between your legs, he wrapped both arms under the small of your back and rested his head on your chest. 

It was the first he’d ever put himself in that position unless... he was there to give your breasts some attention? Your nipples hardened at the thought of his hot mouth sucking. He must have seen, or felt your nipple pebbling so near to his lips, because he fisted the edge of the bed sheet and covered your exposed skin.

Uncertain what to do exactly, you laid quietly and listened to his deep breaths and slow heartbeat for a long time. It wasn’t until you heard his breathing pause and stutter that your stomach dropped. “Henry? What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t know what else to do. What other way can I say it so you’ll understand?” His stormy eyes were dark and cheeks flushing pink when he put his chin on your sternum and glanced up at you. “I’m a patient man but you sure are putting me through my paces, sweetheart.”

Panic started to tighten your chest. Hearing your heartbeat and breathing quicken, he pressed his palm over it and spread his thumb away from his fingers to kiss your skin hidden under it.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. This isn’t what I wanted.”

“What did you want?” You asked bracing yourself with a fistful of sheets in each hand, practically panting the words.

Bearing his teeth, he sat up and stroked your cheek with his calloused thumb. “I want you to not be afraid anymore. I want to take away all of that worry in that beautiful mind of yours.”

As he swept the pads of his fingers over your forehead and down your nose, you gave them a kiss when they passed over your lips.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, swallowing hard so his Adam’s apple bounced. Your brows lifted, confused, but before you could ask, he dropped onto his side and pulled you to him, sheets and all. Legs and arms tangled together, you touched foreheads and shared the same warm breath fanning over each other’s skin.

“Hen?”

“Mhmm.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Nugget.”

“Hen?”

“Hmm.”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Even if it was only a minute. And in the middle of nowhere. I’d want that last minute with you. That’s home… with you. If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

You thought for a moment that the wide eyed expression he gave you was surprise, until a smile lifted his features so brightly, his canines appeared. His mouth pressed to yours, gently at first, but taking a breath, he tipped your head and closed his lips over your top one, causing you to whimper and give him your bottom lip next. As your kisses became more hungry by the second, your attention was drawn from his tongue flexing into your mouth to his hands at your back.

They were fumbling with something, although you couldn’t tell quite what. Reaching behind you curiously, he grasped your hand and pressed his thumb inside your palm. Instinctively, you closed your fingers around it as he returned your hand to your chest.

He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and grinned. “Until I can get you a real diamond,” he panted breathlessly, lips reddened and slightly swollen.

Peering down inside your closed hand, you recognized the gold flash immediately. “Henry, darling, you can’t give me your signet ring!”

He scoffed, arching an eyebrow and collected your left hand, “’Course I can.”

Putting your entire ring finger in his mouth, he pulled off the artificial pearl you wore with his teeth and slid his ring on instead, making you giggle and wiggle your fingers.

“It’s a bit large,” you confessed, attempting to keep your fingers pressed tightly together. Turning your hand over, he let it drop into his palm and slid it onto your thumb instead.

“It’s only temporary,” he reminded you, lying back on the pillows and opening his arms so you could put your head on his chest. He let out a long, gruff sigh feeling your body settle down tucked in against him. Closing your eyes, you already felt your body starting to get heavy.

“You know,” he continued, gently raking his spread fingers through your hair, “I wanted to kiss you the first night we met.”

“That birthday party?” you cooed, nuzzling along his jawline. “That was almost ten years ago, Hen. I wonder where we’d be if you would have.”

“I imagine the exact same place. Only there’d be a couple more pairs of little feet running up and down the hall. What do you think, darling?”

You’d have absolutely agreed, and probably squealed at the thought, but you were already fast asleep by the time he finished his sentence. And it was the best sleep you’d had in months.

[thatoneitaliangirl]

Obey Me! Soulmate AU Lucifer 2

Sorry, I kind of dropped off the face of the earth for a hot minute there. I’m just going through some stuff, don’t mind me!~ I really hope you like this. I was planning on making it longer, but I felt like I left it off at a good place. I think I may finish off each story one by one, since I’m on a roll with Lucifer’s story, but it depends on my mood. I may start on Mammon’s part 2 soon, so you never know! Next part is either Lucifer part 3 or Mammon part 2 lol. I really hope you like it!!! 

________________________________________

When I was a little girl, scary movies always excited me. I would get on my hands and knees to beg my mother to let me watch them, even if I knew I'd have nightmares. There was just something about being scared but not being in danger that really made me happy. As I got older, it became an obsession. Horror movie posters littered my walls, and all other kinds of merchandise, some even rare items, surrounded me in my day to day life. But what always made my day was ghost stories. Some classic bumps in the night, others intense cases of demonic possession. Eventually, movies weren't enough of a thrill. I needed the real thing.

 _______________________________________________________

 "Are you sure about this, _____? I mean, I know you're into that freaky shit, but this is getting a little too real for me." _____'s best friend Monica says, holding herself in her arms.

"Oh please, Monny! It's just a little ghost hunt. Nothing to be worried about!" Her golden eyes widen as she gawks at her friend.

"Nothing to worry about? Girly, you know damn well I don't do ghost shit. That's all you, my friend, and honestly, I don't feel like dying before graduating high school!" _____ rolls her eyes, but this doesn't stop her friend's ramblings.

"You're following the information given to you by some rando on the internet you only met last week- he's probably leading you into a trap! This is one of those cases you see on HLN where the young, unexpecting girls get taken to be sex trafficked."

"We're not gonna die. And it's not even confirmed that there are ghosts here," _____ lifts up the broken chain-link fence and motions for her friend to enter.

"Wait, we're going through all this trouble and you’re not even sure if it's actually haunted?! Are you kidding me?"

"Look, if you're that much of a scaredy-cat, you can wait outside. I just want to snap a few pictures to post on my blog." Biting her lip and shifting from side to side, Monica weighs her options.

"Okay, fine. Just don't take forever. My mom wants us back before dark," Monica says, pouting.

"And don't call me a scaredy-cat!"  _____ smirks.

"Okay, okay . . . Scaredy-cat!" She laughs, lightly jogging away from her friend and towards the abandoned building. With her flashlight in hand, _____ sneaks around the back under some fallen tree-limbs and clicks her tongue.

"If I remember right, the guy said it would be about . . . Here!" Finding the boarded window she was looking for, _____ slides the board up and enters the hole. She drops down into a dark room, the only light seeping in through the cracks in the worn wood covering the window. Quickly turning on her flashlight, the young girl takes a look around what appears to be the basement of the run-down house.

"He seemed to have left out the fact that my little 'tour' would start in the basement, but I can work with this." _____ takes a deep breath and scans the area. Besides some creepy old toys, nothing really interests her here.

So, she finds the door leading upstairs and slowly makes her way up the creaking wood. The leaky pipes and several rainstorms since the abandonment of the house have not been kind to the drywall and wood structuring. Reaching the top, _____ shines her flashlight around, taking in the once white walls of the family room, now covered in mold.

"A little Damp-rid would do this house some wonders, I'm sure." Her camera flashes as she takes her first shot, making sure to get in the ripped couch and fallen portraits. Had vandals and old age not did their thing, this house would have been in perfect condition.

"The people living here just up and abandoned it with no warning. Seems . . . Suss if you ask me.” She scrunches her face and shrugs.

"Alright, let's do some exploring." Shaking off her shakes of anticipation, _____ ascends the stairs leading to the second floor with caution. Despite her lack of fear for the paranormal, she still fears falling through the dampened wood flooring and having to explain to her mother why she's in the hospital getting tested for tetanus. A sudden sound above her makes her stop for a moment, halting the loud creaking of the stairs.

"What the Hell . . . ?" What sounds like a light tapping across the floor above slowly moves forward toward the stairs and ending at the door at the end of the hall. She shines her flashlight there, but it begins to flicker and dim.

"Shit! I just changed these batteries!" She bats it with her palm, but it does nothing as it fades away. The hinges of the door screech as it slowly begins to open, so slow that it's barely visible. What little light is streaming through the cracks of the boarded windows seems to almost be absorbed by the darkness inside the bedroom. _____ gets closer to the door, feeling an immense pull to open it and go inside. Her goal of capturing pictures long gone from her mind as she reaches out and touches the handle.

"_____! Are you done yet?!" Her friend yelling to her from outside startles her and she removes her hand. She releases a breath she didn't know she was holding and tilts her head to yell back.

"Uh, Yeah, almost! Be right out!" Her feet tap against the wood flooring as she descends the stairs, but pauses and takes a look back at the door all the way at the end of the hall.

"It'll only take a second . . . " She says to herself, never removing her eyes from the darkness within.

"Come on, _____! We're losing daylight!" Biting her lip, she lifts her camera and snaps a few photos before running back to the basement and out of the small window. Just as her friend said, the sun is almost below the horizon.

"Oh shit."

"Oh, shit is right! Let's get out of here!"

 ________________________________________________________

 Growing up the way I did, I never really thought too much about what that day meant. Though every once in a while, I find myself thinking about that house. Monica and I left that town not long after we graduated, but the longing I have to go back has nothing to do with homesickness.

"Hey, look! I never thought I'd be seeing these pictures again!" Monica laughs, holding up the small box filled with photos from _____'s old camera.

"Is that prom?" She asks, making her way over to Monica with curiosity.

"I think so," She holds up more photos of the two girls in dresses holding hands with a boy and another girl.

"It has to be. Look, there's Jonah!" _____ rolls her eyes and groans.

"God, I hoped I would never have to see his face again. Burn the pictures!"

"No!" Monica holds the photos to her chest protectively.

"Just because you hated your date, doesn't mean I hated mine!" _____ laughs.

"True. Okay, you can keep 'em! I have all these on a hard drive somewhere, so I'll have plenty of memories!" The smile on Monica's face slowly begins to fall at _____'s words.

"Do you really have to go? I know I've said this like a thousand times, but how do you know you can trust this man?" It's understandable that Monica is concerned. I mean, most people would be if their best friend meets a guy and less than a month later moves out with them.

"I'll be fine. I promise. And I'll write all the time!" Monica groans.

"Exactly, you'll write! I mean, where even is this place that you're going, huh? No cell service, no internet? It's like this guy is taking you completely off the grid, and that's what worries me. He's not forcing you to do this, is he? Cause if he is-!" _____ grabs Monica's shoulders and looks her in the eye.

"Nobody's forcing me to do anything! I love him . . . Perhaps it's a little fast for most people, but I know for a fact that we're meant to be together. Please, trust me on this." The brunette's shoulders sink as if finally accepting _____'s answer.

"Fine. But just know that I don't like him!" A smile makes its way onto _____'s face and pulls her hands back.

"I guess if you don't like him then you won't want to be here tomorrow." Her head snaps up making her brown curls bounce around her head.

"Why?" The ghost hunter smirks and checks her nails.

"Well, my boyfriend and a few of his brothers are coming over to take most of the boxes. I wouldn't want you to be upset, so it's probably best if you stay away."

"Are you kidding me?! Of course, I'm gonna be there! I'm gonna give this bastard a piece of my mind! First, he takes my best friend away, and then he thinks he can just walk up in here and not even ask for your hand in dating from the one person that counts?! Oh, I'll show him! And his brothers too!" Fuming, Monica starts to pace, her arms flailing animatedly.

"Are you gonna give them all a stern talking to, mother dearest?" She stops in her rambling to glare at _____.

"Keep giving me backtalk, and I might just give you a stern talking to. With my fist!" _____ retaliates by throwing a couch pillow.

"Oh, it's on, girly!"

 ______________________________________________________

 "_____, are you awake?" The young woman shifts in her sleep, stretching before opening her eyes.

"I am now. When did you get here?" Lucifer smiles, moving some hair from _____'s face.

"Only a moment ago. I didn't mean to wake you, I had just thought you'd be up." _____ takes a look at the clock on her nightstand, her eyes widening.

"Holy shit! It's almost two?" The tender moment is lost as she jumps out of her bed and runs to her adjoined bathroom. A smirk makes its way onto the demon's face, watching her frantically trying to brush her teeth and hair at the same time.

"There's no need to rush, my love. Although the sight before me is breathtaking, I'll go keep my brothers' busy loading boxes into the portal. Wouldn't want them stumbling in here and seeing something only I should see." The cheeky bastard leaves the room, and _____ looks down at her bedtime apparel consisting of panties and a large shirt.

"Well, that's not embarrassing or anything."

She quickly finishes getting ready and heads down the stairs to an argument.

"It's your fault!" Levi yells, gesturing to a box at his feet.

"Me?! What did I do?!" Mammon yells back, defensive.

"You made me drop it with your stupidity! If you hadn't been acting like a big baby, we would have most of this done by now!" The box in question happens to be the small box filled with photographs.

"Hey guys, don't worry about it! It's just some pictures. I'll clean it up, no biggie!" The two demons blush and look away, a bit ashamed to be yelling in front of the girl.

"Sorry, _____. If Mammon actually did his job, we'd be out of here by now."

"I'm helping!" Levi rolls his eyes.

"If by helping you mean complaining, then yeah, you've been a big help!" Mammon crosses his arms and glares.

"Oh, like you're any better? Just two minutes ago you were complaining about how you're arms hurt! These boxes should weigh nothing to you!" As the fight continues, Lucifer comes up next to her and sighs. I'm sorry about my brothers, _____. Would you believe me if I told you they actually volunteered to help?" _____ laughs.

Over the course of knowing Lucifer, the young woman has grown close to his brother's as well, mainly the two standing in front of her. Mammon likes her ghost adventure stories, and Levi just likes the fact _____ is willing to listen to his rants. Even Satan has enjoyed a few human books recommended to him by the lovable ghost hunter, and they often discuss murder mysteries together over text. It's no surprise to Lucifer that his soulmate gets along so well with his brothers. He cares dearly for his younger siblings, and _____ provides the care his pride prevents him from showing.

"I believe it. But, you know, brothers will be brothers," She smiles up at him, unknowingly making his heartbeat just a bit faster. Her eyes widen a bit and a small gasp leaves her lips as she takes another look at the clock.

"I forgot to tell you, but Monica is-"

"Where is he?!" The front door slams open, halting the never-ending argument and making _____ pout.

"Monica, any damage left gets taken out of my deposit. Could you be a bit more careful?" The brunette crosses her arms and scans the room, reading all three men, and assessing the situation. Her eyes narrow at Levi, making him whimper slightly and shrink under her gaze. Next, Mammon, who just crosses his arms back and raises a brow under his sunglasses. Her eyes land on Lucifer and her glare turns to a scowl. Target acquired. She dramatically raises her hand and points at the demon.

"You." Confused, he points to himself.

"Me . . . ?"

"You're the one that's stealing my sister from me!" _____ sighs and puts her head in her hand.

"Here we go." Monica walks over, practically chest to chest with Lucifer, though there's a notable height difference. Lucifer coughs awkwardly, looking down at the female.

"Is there a problem?"

"I don't know, is there?" _____ sighs again.

"Monica-"

"Don't 'Monica' me! I don't care how big and muscular he appears to be, he better square up, cause he's not taking you without a fight, sis!"

"This is ridiculous, Monica. You can't fight him." Her glare deepens, never breaking eye contact with Lucifer.

"Watch me." She raises her fist.

"I don't think you want to do that," Lucifer speaks up, temporarily halting her actions.

"There's nothing you can say to me that'll- Put me down!" Lucifer picks up Monica by her shoulders and gently holds the kicking and screaming girl until she gives up trying to escape.

"Are you done?" Huffing and puffing, she nods and he places her back on her feet.

"You are a truly worthy opponent. I'll be more prepared next time. Until then, you have earned my blessing. For now!" _____ rolls her eyes, and Lucifer smiles at her.

"Thank you. I apologize for not meeting you sooner. My work prevents me from leaving, and what little free time I have I use to talk to _____. It was wrong of me to not speak with you before arranging this." Monica looks at Lucifer, still skeptical.

"Hm, wise words and a wise decision, trying to butter me up. But I won't give up that easily!"

"Is she always like this?" Mammon asks, leaning up against the wall.

"Always like what? Amazing, beautiful, cautious, careful, caring, concerned??"

"Woah, slow down 'C for Catastrophe', I think you just come off as a little strong sometimes, Monny. Maybe tone it down for the newcomers, alright?" Pouting, Monica agrees.

"Okay, maybe I can be a bit overbearing." _____ raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

"That's an understatement," Leviathan says under his breath earning a death glare from the brunette.

"I hate to cut this short, but we should really be going." _____'s head snaps up to look at Lucifer.

"What? Why? You just got here?" His face saddens as he looks down at her, holding her hand in his.

"I know, but I need to head back. Certain duties require my attention," He pulls _____ close in a hug and puts his lips to her ear.

"And Lord Diavolo was only able to keep the portal open for a certain amount of time." His warm breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine and a blush to her cheeks. She hugs him closer and nods before letting go.

"Alright, I hope you guys have a safe journey back!" She waves to them, Lucifer giving her a quick peck on the cheek, not really one for PDA, and they head out of sight through the front door. Monica clears her throat and looks down at the ground.

"Sorry." Genuinely surprised, _____ turns to her friend.

"For what? You were just being a good friend!"

"Not that," She sighs, and wrings her hands together.

"I didn't know his time here was limited. I didn't mean to keep you from him." _____ smiles and pats her friend on the head, which earns her an annoyed scowl.

"It's okay, Monny, don't worry about it! How about we make some tea and chill for a bit? I still have some packing to do before next week." The shorter female smiles and nods.

"Definitely! I'll start the water!" She rushes off to the kitchen, leaving _____ in the living room. It's true that she's upset she didn't get to be with Lucifer for very long, but she doesn't blame her friend. Magic is something she still doesn't understand but knows there are certain limitations. 

Maybe if she had gotten up earlier, she could have talked with her soulmate a bit more, but she was just so tired. Her dreams kept her up tossing and turning most of the night, much to her displeasure. She doesn't remember exactly what they were about, but they weren't pleasant, and she's not sure if she actually wants to remember them. 

Monica working to heat up the water, _____ decides to clean up the scattered pictures from the fallen box. There's no particular order they should go in since they were pretty much haphazardly thrown in there to begin with, but she tries to start from the bottom, attempting to keep some sort of linear timeframe of when she put the pictures in there.

"Eventually I gotta go through these and get rid of the junk. I don't think I want Lucifer seeing me at fourteen with braces, pigtails, and eyeliner up to my temples." She gently shuffles through the pictures, tossing them in as she goes, until she reaches the last group. 

Undoubtedly the darkest of them, they immediately stand out from the family beach days and the cringe selfies. _____ picks them up, and examines them. The first few are of crumbling walls and boarded up windows, no doubt an abandoned house she's been to, but that's not what strikes her as odd. She never kept her hunting photos with her normal ones, especially back then. 

Her mother would have killed her if she found out, so she would always develop them and put them in a lockbox under her bed. The last few photos in the bunch show a dark hall, and it's as if all the heat rushes from her body. A cold chill replaces any warmth she may have had as she looks from one picture to the other, the hallway becoming darker and darker before it goes completely black, the door at the end the only thing visible. 

While she remembers taking the pictures, she doesn't remember ever actually developing them. It was her first abandoned house- thinking back it would have been weird for her not to take a look at them. But the more she tries to remember, the more she can't. It's as if she's blocked it out somehow.

"You okay, girly?" Monica places her hand on _____'s shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Got a little distracted is all," She places the pictures at the top of the box, closes it, and puts it to the side.

"Now, how about tea?"

The two girls spend the rest of the night packing and chatting, almost making _____ forget about the pictures. Almost. It isn’t long after Monica leaves that _____ finds herself drawn to the small box, knowing that the pictures are just a few feet away. A ringing from her pocket startles her, and she pulls out her DDD. The caller ID says Lucifer, and she smiles knowing how late it is. This is most likely his first break since he got back.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her smile drops a bit at the urgency in his voice.

"Yes, why? Is everything alright?" He sighs on the other end of the phone sounding relieved.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I felt that you were in danger, and the pact was calling to me." Sure enough, the pact mark on her arm is glowing a beautiful blue, bright enough to shine through her shirt sleeve. She lightly rubs it, willing it to stop, and the glow slowly fades.

"Sorry, I didn't even realize I was doing it. It's just . . . " _____ bites her lip, looking over at the box.

"_____, what's wrong? Are you in danger?"

"No," Sighing, _____ turns away from the box and heads to her bedroom, attempting to put it out of her mind.

"I was just anxious . . . I miss you." He chuckles a little, making her heart race.

"I miss you too. I'm sorry I had to cut our afternoon short, but Lord Diavolo needed me. The higher demons are still . . . Skeptical about our father's decision. They've become nervous, and there have been talks of a coup."

"Oh, wow," She never really thought about it, but it makes sense why people would be skeptical especially demons. To them, it may seem like some plot to take over the Devildom.

"How's Lord Diavolo handling this news?" She's spoken to Lord Diavolo a few times, and he's always seemed like such a nice and positive guy that really cares about his kingdom and its citizens.

"He's upset, but not surprised. But he knows my brothers and I are on his side, so if a coup were to take place, they wouldn't get very far."

"I'm glad. How are you handling this? Want to talk about it?" She's concerned for him, despite knowing how powerful he is. His workload before was intense, but now she's sure it's even worse. He barely gets to sleep, and she can hear it sometimes when he's on the phone with her. He's even fallen asleep on the phone, much to her disappointment. She feels guilty every time that happens, because he's clearly tired but still staying up late to talk to her.

"I would love to, but unfortunately, there's not much I can say . . . "

"You never know who's listening, right?" He laughs.

"Yes, I'm sorry. But I can tell you that all of this will be sorted before next week. I'll make sure of it." The determination in his voice was enough to know he was telling the truth. Once Lucifer makes his mind up about something, it gets done.

"I believe you! But even so, I'm sure my presence might stir up the higher demons. Maybe it's best if I and the other girls stay here until the Devildom calms down." She's heard of his brother's soulmates before, though she's never actually talked to them. But it's not hard to assume that they are going through the same things she is, feeling the same things, and wondering how their lives are going to change.

"At the moment, any plans for you or the others to come here are still on track. But, I'm afraid you may have a point . . . "

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I know no matter what you decide, it'll be the right choice. I have the utmost confidence in you, hun." Lucifer clears his throat, flustered.

"I'm glad you do. Your safety is my top priority. One of them."

"I can only imagine the work you have right now. I'll let you go." _____ glances at the time. It's pretty late for her, and the time difference isn't too far off from her own.

"I'll call you tomorrow as soon as I can. Sleep well, my love." For him not to protest hanging up the phone, he must really be swamped with work.

"Sleep well." Laying down, _____ can feel her eyelids falling heavy and pulls the covers over her shoulders. Despite her pleasant thoughts of her love, her dreams are anything but.

To be continued ------

[twokinkybeans]

Popsicle [Starker]

Summary:  Tony sees Peter at a kink club; bound, blindfolded, gagged and whipped and Tony... God, it messes with his head. It sure makes working in the lab with Peter a whole lot more difficult.

Prompt: Written for the following prompt by @Kaydu on AO3/Discord (so all credits for this amazing idea go to her)! Post resurrection Tony runs into Peter at night unintentionally. At a kink club. Blindfolded and gagged and being whipped across the back while mounted on a St Andrews cross and then forced in his knees to suck off the Dom where he is humiliated by slurs and insults and Peter doesn’t know at first that Tony saw him there doing that until after a few weeks of Tony acting particularly odd in the lab working together.

Warnings: Nff, kink, bdsm-themes. Mostly Peter and Tony just really like each other. Peter Parker is depicted as an adult.

Find on AO3 here!

-

Popsicle: Tony knows this is probably not one of his brightest ideas but he really needs to blow off some steam. He’s not here looking for a hook-up; not that he’d decline if someone were to offer it of course. He just needs a change of scenery. And this, well, this is his favorite scenery. When Tony walks into the club an instant smile works its way onto his face. The familiar sounds surround him. The slow, sensual beat of the music playing in the background, but also the moans, the happy chatter, the whips cracking in the distance. It’s home to Tony.

He heads straight for the bar and orders a strawberry daiquiri like he always does. It’s nice, the sweet sting of the fruit mixed with the bitterness of the alcohol. He doesn’t want to start on the club’s fine selection of whiskey right away.

Tony ignores the way the bartender looks at him when he orders. He’s used to the stares by now. People don’t know how to treat him anymore. After almost dying to save the world, they simply are too impressed or scared or weirded out by him. He doesn’t like the godlike devotion some people have decided to give him, doesn’t like how he makes conversations fall silent where he passes. But, he decided a couple of months ago, he won’t allow himself to succumb to the feeling. He’s got his little Avengers family to keep him company. If this is the price he has to pay for saving the world, he’ll happily endure it. He has the idle hope that things might return to their previous way of being, and until then, he’ll try to pretend they are. One of the things he used to do was residing at the bar in this particular club and enjoy the scenes unfold in front of him. So that’s exactly what he’ll do today.

There’s actually quite the number of scenes going on right now - the biggest one happening on the stage in the middle of the room. A familiar-faced Domme, a regular probably, is teaching a shibari workshop. Her sub, a sweet-looking young woman is definitely enjoying both the ropes and the public’s attention. They even let some of the folks in the audience try their way around the knots as well. Then, in the back and the sides of the room, there are some smaller scenes taking place. Wax play, not one of Tony’s favorites, and some bootlicking, also not one of his favorites. No. Tony’s attention is drawn by the scene taking place almost in front of him. A cute, young twink is bound to the St. Andrew’s cross. The sub’s back showing angry lines of where the heavy flogger had kissed the skin. The boy is shivering, moaning, pleading for more through the gag that’s in his mouth. He’s blindfolded, too. The Dom, a tall, muscular blonde grins as he gives into the subs pleas more than happily and lowers the flogger once more. Tony shifts on the barstool to give his already growing erection a little more space while he keeps watching. God, the sub… He looks amazing. Not too tall, strong muscles gliding underneath the smooth skin every time he arches his back. Tony loves the cute, firm little butt too. If he were the one holding the flogger he’d definitely redden the pale cheeks some more. As would he give special attention to those probably very sensitive thighs. With his legs spread in the cross like that, Tony doesn’t even need a lot of imagination to see how pretty his legs would shake. The twink sure reminds him of… No.

Tony’s nostrils flare slightly and he sips at his drink in an attempt to cool himself down just a little. Ever since defeating Thanos a little over a year ago, he hadn’t gotten laid once. With people being squeamish around him he had no chance, and even if people weren’t weirded out by him, they were by the fact that he had a fully operative, natural-looking prosthetic arm. The neurofeedback allowed it to work as a regular arm- so much even Tony tends to forget it’s a fake one. He sighs. He hasn’t even shared a simple kiss with someone since it happened. His body doesn’t like it. It’s starting to protest the lack of touch. Maybe he should find himself someone tonight after all. Get it out of his system. He knows it’s idle hope, but the thought is nice.

Tony finishes his drink and is just about to make his way into the more crowded area, when the Dom in front of him unties his sub. The boy turns around, and-

Tony blinks. Once. Twice. A third time. He can feel the blood drain from his face and somehow simultaneously rush south. There, right there, is no one other than Peter fucking Parker. His friend. His colleague. His mentee. Tony has to bite back a moan because everything about Peter makes him want to claim him for himself. His disheveled hair, his rapidly rising and falling chest, his hard cock… not too big but standing up hard and proud between his legs. He’s still blindfolded though. And a ring gag is causing him to drool all over his chest. He looks so fucking filthy. Tony has no clue how to deal with this. How to deal with… Goddammit. He thought he was over his attraction to Peter. The 21-year old and he hadn’t been able to meet much lately and it’d done wonders to Tony’s unhealthy crush.

Guess he fooled himself.

He’s frozen in place. He would never interrupt a scene. Never. No matter how much he wants to do it right now, he is not going to break the rule he set for himself all these years ago. Plus, it’s club policy. Peter obviously consented to this scene and Tony interrupting would only cause embarrassment for all parties involved and could throw the boy into the deep end of a sub drop. No. All he can do is watch. Watch and pray Peter never finds out.

---

Making sure Peter never finds out didn’t seem too difficult of a task. Tony is soon proven otherwise though. Working with the kid has never been as challenging. Every time Tony lays his eyes on him he remembers Peter’s mouth working around the other Dom’s shaft. Eagerly sucking and worshipping it without fail. The image is branded into Tony’s mind. He can’t unsee it, no matter how hard he tries.

Today, Tony is certain the universe is taking its revenge on him somehow. Making him pay for all the bad things he’s done in his past, probably. Peter is naked. Naked. Right there. Right in front of him. Sucking on a fucking popsicle almost the same way he sucked on the man’s cock that day. He’s chatting happily, making innocent jokes and laughing as Tony works his way through the suit to find the one error that Peter can’t seem to fix by himself. Friday hasn’t detected anything wrong so the glitch is probably a crack somewhere in the nano sections. He’s trying to find it, really, but Tony has never had this little focus before in his entire life. He stares at the suit. At his own fingers checking and rechecking every fiber of the supple yet strong material to find the crack. So far, no luck. He forces himself to not look at Peter. To try to ignore him. To-

“Mr. Stark?” Tony looks up instantly and mentally curses himself for his lack of self-restraint. “Mmh?” Peter sucks on the popsicle, licking off the drops threatening to fall off, before he speaks again. “Am I… Annoying you? Should I go and wait somewhere else until you’re done? I don’t want to disturb you and-” “No. Stay.”

The words are out of Tony’s mouth before he realizes his mistake. He stays silent. Doesn’t even try to cover up because he knows it’s no use. Instead, he lowers the fabric of the suit and rests his hands on the surface- waiting for Peter to speak. It takes a while. “Mr. Stark…” Peter starts and puts the popsicle down onto the plate he used not more than an hour ago for his daily 5-layer sandwich lunch. “I… I should’ve told you. I’m so sorry.” “What?” Tony asks, thoroughly confused. Out of everything Peter could’ve said, this is not what he expected. Peter fiddles with his hands and drops his gaze to the floor. “I know you saw me.”

Tony’s brains sure as fuck short circuit right there and then. What? Peter continues before he has a chance to speak. “My Spider-senses. They recognize people that I’m close to. I… I knew you were watching me, eh, the entire time.” “Peter-” “I liked it. I liked that you were there. Made me try extra hard.” Peter licks his lips and stands up from his chair then, slowly striding towards Tony who is increasingly intimidated by the boldness of the boy. “I could sense how hard you were.” Another step closer. “How your breathing increased over time.” Closer. “How you rushed off after I made the Dom come in my mouth.” Peter hops onto the research table and his legs dangle playfully in the air. Tony can’t help but notice the slowly growing cock between the boy’s legs and he gulps.

“Peter,” he repeats, his mind startled and scattered and entranced by the plain sexiness in front of him. “Don’t you want to do the same to me, Sir?” Tony growls. Actually growls. Low, the sound reverberating deep in his throat. He bridges the gap between them and raises Peter’s chin in a rough but careful motion. “Are you a hundred percent certain you want to do this with me?” “Please,” Peter begs and Tony’s gone. His right hand finds its way into Peter’s messy hair instantly. Grabbing a good handful of those chestnut curls. The other hand wraps around Peter’s waist to drag him closer. Peter lets out a high-pitched moan, bucking his hips up. The moan is muffled when their lips crash together in one swift motion. Tony claims it. Claims it all. Suckling on Peter’s lower lip, tilting the boy’s head in the exact right angle. “S-sir, please. Please I need you so bad,” Peter babbles into Tony mouth and Tony’s entire system surges forward. His abdomen tingling with an increasing need to pound this sweet sub into oblivion. He can’t believe Peter has known all these weeks, all these weeks of innocent teasing and playfulness- god. The popsicle sure hadn’t been an accident. And the suit…

“The suit, pretty Pete, is it broken at all?” “N-no!” Peter squeaks and Tony grins, pulling back slightly. He moves a loose strand back behind Peter’s ear and basks in the hungry gaze right in front of him. “You little bastard,” Tony laughs and yanks Peter’s head back with a controlled motion. Peter gasps, his cock twitches, and his hands dig into the metal surface beneath him. “Everything for you, Sir. I did everything for you.” “Nngh, such a good boy. So eager to get my cock aren’t ya?” “Yeah, need it. I need it so bad.”

Tony carefully releases his grip on Peter before he moves his hands down hastily to undo the fly of his now way too tight jeans. He curses, muttering under his breath, as he slides it down. God, never in his life had he been more grateful for the weird habit of not wearing shoes inside the lab. Peter in return, shifts to lay down face-up on the table. His head tilted to the side and oh fuck oh fuck Tony knows exactly what he’s offering right there. He kicks his boxers off too and strokes his achingly hard cock a few times to release some of the tension that had been building up over the course of merely a minute. Peter follows the motions with his eyes and bites on his bottom lip. He then looks up at Tony with the most innocent and at the same time filthy gaze Tony has ever seen in his entire life. This boy will be his undoing. “Open up, baby,” Tony grunts and Peter complies right away. His lips part in a perfect seductive O-shape and Tony takes a step closer, his cock now dangling in front of Peter’s face. “Come on, suck it honey.”

Peter has to crane his neck even more to properly reach it and he does exactly that. Tony’s legs nearly give out when the soft, hot, wet lips wrap themselves around his way too sensitive flesh. His pelvic floor muscles jerk involuntarily- his dick twitching as a result of it. It only makes Peter moan and slide down onto the shaft more. His tongue is fucking heaven, smooth as velvet and so hot, playfully circling the head of his cock. Around, up and down, the tip of Peter’s tongue teasing the slit and Tony can literally feel precum oozing onto the boy’s tongue. “God, aren’t you a filthy little thing,” Tony breathes. His voice is rough and shaky and he loves how it has Peter’s cheeks flush a bright red. “You like having your mouth stuffed?”

The boy nods as much as his current position allows him to and it sets off yet another heatwave throughout Tony’s abdomen. He knows he won’t last long. Not with Peter, beautiful, innocent, perfect Peter who looks so content pleasuring his newfound Dom. Tony decides the boy deserves the same amount of pleasure he himself is experiencing right now. While one hand reaches up to Peter’s neck to support it and keep it from straining, the other moves towards Peter’s hard and now leaking cock. His calloused fingers wrap around Peter’s delicate skin and he slowly moves it down. Peter’s uncut, and the movement allows for the beautiful pink head to be revealed. Peter’s hips buck into the touch, the kid’s nostrils flaring wide as he chases the pleasure given to him. “You deserve this, pretty boy, deserve to have your cock milked by me. You’ve wanted it for so long now, so take everything I’ve chosen to give you.” Tony has never been this vocal during sex but the words just keep coming and coming without stop. “Gonna show me every inch of your pleasure as I’ll make you cum. It’s mine. You’re mine. My sweet, sweet Peter.” “M-m!” Peter whimpers around Tony’s cock still pounding into his mouth relentlessly. Tony moans out loud, his hips and hand speeding up in the same rhythm. He’s desperate. Desperate for release. Desperate to see Peter’s eyes roll back as white stripes of cum stain his ripped abdomen. He wants Peter filthy and used and then coddle him back to reality.

“You close yet? Ready to show me how adorably your cock will surrender to me?” Peter hollows his cheeks now, sucking and looking up at Tony teary-eyed with happiness and belonging. Tony feels equally surprised by how well their bodies seem to fit together, as if they’d never done anything but this. As if it were meant to be. For a short moment, Tony pulls his cock out of Peter’s mouth. The cold air makes it sting a little and he loves how Peter’s head moves forward in a futile attempt to chase it. “Beg for it, Peter. For everything,” Tony hisses and Peter doesn’t even need a second to think before he complies to Tony’s order. More than he ever deemed possible from the supposedly innocent young adult. “Please please please Sir, please, I want to taste your cum in my mouth. Want it to drip past my cheek because I can’t take it all. Want to show you how amazingly good you make me feel, want to gift you with my cum. Please, Sir. Please take everything you want from me. Plea-”

Tony shoves his cock back past Peter’s lips and enjoys how it muffles the rest of the boy’s plea. His hand around Peter’s cock speeds up. Faster, and faster, as he pounds faster into Peter’s mouth as well. The movements fall into a steady rhythm that has both men lose their minds in ecstasy. “Peter-Peter, I’m so close. Gonna fill you up so nicely. I’ll give you exactly what you so desperately want. Want my cum to mix with your drool and watch how it slips past your plump lips.” Tony just- god. Oh god. He can’t. He can’t stop it anymore. His dick tenses, jerks. An all-consuming pleasure starting at the base surges through his entire cock, drawing his balls tight and he collapses forward as wave after wave after wave flows through his entire being. Hot spurts of come stain Peter’s wet tongue and the boy is whimpering like mad, the sound echoing right through him like a song stuck on repeat. For a moment, Tony is completely disoriented. The boy’s suckles slow down as his cock softens up inside the kid’s mouth. The gentle, kissy feel of it has Tony shiver.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out and lets his thighs now rest against the edge of the metal table to support himself while his hand still pumps Peter’s cock like a fucking machine. Peter’s legs are shaky, too. Toes curling and uncurling to release the tension that is so obviously building inside his body. He’s wound tight like a spring ready to jump into action. It’s only a matter or seconds now. The boy’s whimpers and whines and breathy gasps are mingling together into a sweet symphony of plain and simple bliss and Tony wishes this moment would never ever end. But his desire to make Peter lose it wins out. “Come for me, boy. Show me how desperate you have been for me all this time. Give it to me all, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Lose it baby, and I’ll catch you.”

Peter’s body literally trashes on the cold surface. The pent-up neediness finally finding a way to release itself. Peter cries out, his eyes open wide as his lower body shakes with every single eruption. The cum stains his hard chest and stomach beautifully. Tony watches mesmerized. He’s seen Peter in the club, but that’d been nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to the view in front of him right now. “M-Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbles, moaning, repeating the name over and over again until finally his body goes entirely limp. Tony sucks in a sharp breath, carefully unwrapping his now sticky fingers from his hold on Peter. He moves his hand up, trailing, smearing the cum even further across the smooth skin of the boy’s chest. All the way up to his nipples and more, until Peter’s soft and reddened lips suck a hint of his own cum from Tony’s fingers. “Hey baby,” Tony murmurs. His free hand has crept up to Peter’s face to caress his cheek gently. Peter shivers underneath the touch and another, soft, weak moan rises from his chest. “Mmmm,” he breathes. “-‘m feeling so nice.” Peter’s speech is clearly slow and slurred and Tony smiles down at the boy happily. He feels fulfilled in a way he’s never experienced before. “Good boy,” Tony replies sweetly and he leans in. Carefully, he presses his lips on top of Peter’s forehead. Kissing the skin again, and again. Gentle. Caring. His body filled with a need to protect and spoil this beautiful creature now that he’s no longer caught up with the need to release. “Come, lemme carry you upstairs.”

Peter perks up at that. “Y-your bedroom?” “Yes, why?” “Mmmmh, nothing. Nothing. I’m just very very very happy.” Peter giggles and rolls to his side a little. Tony cracks a smile. He knows what Peter meant. Knows that Peter knows that Tony has a strict rule of not taking people to his bedroom. It’s an unspoken promise. Something they’ll discuss later. Not now. Now, he’s going to spoil this boy to no end, wrap him in the softest blankets and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he’s fully back on Earth. He slides his arms underneath Peter’s unresisting figure and lifts him up bridal style. The boy nuzzles his face into Tony’s neck. Cum is dripping from him, against Tony’s shirt and onto the floor but he couldn’t care less. “Mr. Stark?” “Yes, sweetness?” “You owe me another popsicle.”

Tony laughs.

[sunasrintarhoe]

Cat got your Tongue?

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro X GN!reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Maybe summoning a cat demon wasn’t the greatest idea… TW: Demon summoning and fluff

A/N: This is not accurate what so ever . I just really like the thought of summoning a cat demon named Kuroo. I really wanted to get a little something out before my inactivity gets too obvious lmao, feel free to request because requests are now open!! I will be putting out a list of Characters that I am willing to write for, so be looking out for that. Anyways I hope y’all enjoy!

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Every night since you had completed the ritual, or so you thought, you had been having this one weird dream. It always started out with a black haired man with bright yellow eyes looming over you with a small smirk on his face. He always said the same thing.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really don’t know how to read instructions all the way through…”

He would laugh and walk away from the side of your bed to your desk and pick up the old, dirty paper that contained the instructions to summon a Bakeneko, then scoff and you would hear the faint sound of a piece of paper being crumpled and thrown onto the floor.

The man would walk back to your bed and lean over you again whispering, “Offer me something, (Y/N). Pictures… Memories… You…”  He would lean over further almost as if to kiss you, then you would wake up. Your heart racing, your palms sweating. Sometimes with a headache, but that could have been because of the seasons changing. Your alarm would go off after about five minutes and you would be forced to get out of bed and get ready for work. 

Working at a bakery, definitely wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Especially when your boss was the one and only Miya Osamu. You two had grown up together and became best friends over your mutual love for food. Like Osamu, you dreamed of opening your own restaurant, but when you did, business was slow and hard to come by, which forced you to close down. Since, Osamu had opened Onigiri Miya a few years prior and was looking to branch out, he offered to buy your bakery, along with giving you a position as a manager. Of course you happily accepted and the next day you were sitting pretty with 15 million yen in your bank account. He had the place remodeled and within a month, your bakery was changed to Pastry Miya. 

It seemed like you were always busy. The name Miya certainly made a difference and sometimes you wondered if people ever realized that the bakery was run by the same person. Today was different though. Today was the day that Osamu wanted to release the fall exclusives and you just weren’t feeling it. Despite going to bed early, you felt like you were running on no sleep. Coffee didn’t seem to help and you seemed to be swaying on your feet. 

Sluggishly, you walked into the building and back into the staff room. As you were putting on your apron, Osamu walked in. “Yo, (N/N). I need you to- Are you okay?” He asked, concerned, to which you replied with a small smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired.” “You certainly don’t seem like a bit tired” He put the back of his hand up to your head and hummed. “ You don’t have a fever, do you feel sick?” You pushed his hand away, “Not at all, like I said I’m just tired.” You tried to walk around him, but he grabbed your wrist. “What happened?” He asked, pointing to a small bruise on your hand that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh? I have no idea, I don’t remember getting that…” You noticed the beginning of a bruise under your sleeve and pulled it up, only to be met with what seemed like a hundred more bruises. 

“Okay, what the fuck, (Y/N)? You’re not okay. You need to go home.” Just as concerned as he was, you looked up at Osamu with wide panicked eyes. “This makes sense.” “What does?” “The bruises, the tiredness, the recurring dreams about the incomplete ritual. It all makes sense.” “Ritual?” Osamu practically yelled, “What ritual?” You smiled sheepishly. “Well, you know how my cat died like six months ago?” He nodded,”Well, I’ve been really lonely and I saw this ritual at an antique that is supposed to summon a cat and I thought I should try it out…” Osamu’s jaw hit the floor. “YOU SUMMONED A DEMON?!” “yes…” He turned you around and untied your apron. “You can’t come back until you fix this.” Osamu pushed you out the door and slammed it shut.

“I guess I’ll go home then.” You mumbled to yourself and made your way to your car.

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When you entered your apartment, the first thing that you noticed was the darkness. None of the sunlight seemed to be streaming through your light pink curtains. The next thing you noticed was the pentagram in the middle of your living room with the instructions on how to summon a cat demon in front of it. “Well shit.” you mumbled and sat down in front of the pentagram. You picked up the instructions and read through everything. “Ah, here. You must offer the demon something precious to you.” You looked around, “Something precious to me… something precious to me…” You turned to the first thing you saw. It was a picture of your cat that had passed away six months prior. “Oh, baby… How I miss you.” You placed the picture in the middle of the pentagram and sat on your knees. With a puff of smoke, the picture was gone. “What the hell?” “A cat? Really?”  A deep voice spoke from within the shadows. You quickly turned around only to be met with two long legs. Looking up, you gasped. Standing before you was the man that had been appearing in your dreams. “You!” “Me!” He mocked. “ Who are you?” The man smiled and crouched down to you. “The name’s Kuroo Tetsuro. I was partially, now fully, summoned by you.” He winked. “But I thought I was summoning a cat…” He got up and walked a few paces away. “You did.” In an instant a black cat appeared in front of you and Kuroo had disappeared. The cat sauntered its way in front of you and sat down. 

“I will be with you for as long as your cat stays precious to you, once the cat loses meaning, I will go back to my realm and take your soul with me.” The cat spoke. You froze. “FUCK! OF COURSE I’M STUPID ENOUGH TO SUMMON A DEMON AND NOT EXPECT FOR MY SOUL TO BE EATEN.” You yelled to the ceiling and Kuroo ran behind the couch, startled. 

Kuroo crept out from behind the couch when he realized the screaming was over, “I never said your soul would be eaten, I just said if your cat loses meaning to you, your soul will be dragged to the demon realm.” He blinked. “Same difference!” You snapped at him. You got up and sighed. There wasn’t anything you could do about it now, but at least you weren’t so lonely.

Kuroo had turned back into a man and wrapped his arms around your waist. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to push him away. “You’re cold. Humans can’t stand being cold from my experience. Your cells don’t do well with the cold and start to shrivel up and die causing irreversible damage-” You tuned him out as he began rambling about the different effects of being cold. “-I just want to make sure my human is okay.” He purred.You relaxed and just let him hold you. It had been a while since someone had held you like that and you weren’t complaining. The purring made you feel like you were holding, your sweet, little cat. You felt Kuroo freeze at your lack of movement. 

“Are you okay?” “Yeah… Can we just stay like this for a bit.” Your voice sounded tight and you felt emotional. You were so touched starved and it was taking a toll on you. Kuroo just sighed and hugged you tighter. “You can’t get too attached, you’ll end up dying.” You shook your head. ”You remind me of my cat.” Kuroo chuckled. “The purring helps.” After a little bit you jolted. “Oh, frick. I’m sorry.” You bowed in apology and Kuroo just waved it off. “It happens to the best of us.” He walked away and shifted, “Besides, We’ll be together for a while.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Once the whole fiasco with Kuroo was finished, you were able to work and life went back to normal. Well… With the exception of having a nerdy cat around. Kuroo was exceptionally great company and was very cuddly as a cat. He never allowed to be alone. Always following and watching, he didn’t allow you to be alone for more the five minutes at a time. He would make you cook almost every meal for him and make you sit down and eat with him. He slept in your bed, laid on the toilet when you showered and basically took over your entire life. This continued for six months until one day Kuroo stopped. He stopped talking to you, eating with you, sleeping with you. He completely isolated himself from you without explanation. He stayed in your guest room, only coming out to see if you were still home. It sucked.

You were fed up. The next time you saw him, you were confronting him.

____________________________________________________________________________

That was a month ago. He hasnt come out his room for an entire month. You now moped around you house and cried over your cat’s picture. Sometimes you sobbed out loud hoping that Kuroo would hear and come to your rescue, but it never happened. He had gotten you so used to affection and care that when he ripped it away from you, you were becoming depressed. 

You decided enough was enough and knocked on the guest room door. “Kuroo… Can I come in?” You asked softly in fear of rejection. The door slowly opened and you entered.

You were met with sad yellow eyes and a frown on Kuroo’s usually smug face. You reached out to him and he seemed to fly into your arms. “I thought you were begin to hate me and I thought if i isolated myself you wouldn’t hate me.” He whimpered and you breathed out a laugh. “I thought you were beginning to hate me, Kuroo. I was worried that i was getting too attached and you were trying to tell me that you didn’t to be around me anymore.” Kuroo gasped and looked into your eyes, “That’s not true, you love for your cat is still as strong as it was when you summoned me.” He buried his face into your neck. “If anything I was the one gettin attached…” He mumbled into your neck and you smiled. “So, I’m assuming that its okay for me to get attched too?” Kuroo looked up at you and smiled, “Of course…” He whispered while leaning in to kiss your lips.

____________________________________________________________________________

A few months passed and your relationship with Kuroo had grown strong. You constantly reminded yourself of your cat that had now been dead for over year and you still mourned him like it was yesterday. Kuroo never minded, he understood. Not wanton to be the cause of your death, he encouraged your grieving and gave you the proper space to do so. When you were done, he would always come back to you and comfort you until the left over feelings were gone for the most part. 

Kuroo had been the most patient and loving boyfriend you had ever had. He made you feel loved and secure, he made you feel wanted and welcomed. He told you random facts about chemistry every moring and jokes about physics every night. He always made sure that you felt more than enough and tried his best to fill the void that your hardships had left behind. All in all, Kuroo is the best boy and makes sure you know that.

[xxrat--punkxx]

JUMPING ON THIS BAND WAGGON

Ok here’s my 2020, tw//mentions of suicide and abuse

(Strong start lmao) 2020 sucked ass lemmi tell ya. This year was a fucking train wreck from the start, ur hay I got character development so who cares. Well let’s start with a review, bad things first.

Yall remember when everyone was scared shields of COVID?. Lol. But that’s stating the obvious. When we went into lockdown I was first like fuck yeah summer lol, but then the threat of ‘staying home for the rest of the year’ set in, bing in my first year of sixth form I really understand the stakes of exams next year. So having to stay home for the rest of the year freaked me the fuck out. I literally couldent cope, having to do all classes online was fucking hell, they were never zoom classes either, just ‘lmao do the work and hand it in’ which was near impossible for me. I was also in the constant ‘oh no I’m so stressed but I will do NOTHING about this lmao~’. As the days turned to weeks and inevitably MONTHS, my mental health said buckle up bitches. Days were spent sitting in my room on my phone doing NOTHING, meanwhile this perpetual notion of stress played in my head yet there I sat not having the will or motion to move.

Then my parents got involved. Now THATS when shit went from pretty crummy to awful, now I was living with them constantly I was able to see who they really were with no real filter. And oh god do I have issues, I didn’t even fucking know. Every day was an argument, my mom was the worst, the MANIPULATION, the constant ‘you're tearing this family apart’ or ‘so I’m the problem?’ Or the fucking indecent playing the victim. And I all only just realised, that they have been doing this ALL MY LIFE. Dad got involved but he was just physically violent, only twice tho. The worst part was my work, admittedly yes, I didn’t do everything I was given, but I tried, I really did with what little motivation I had. But with just one ‘oh your daughter hasn’t handed in this work’ I was a ‘lazy, good for nothing failure’ to quote ‘who will never go anywhere in life’ so I’d spend the rest of the day crying while they play the victim bury saupying I was abusing their love and just using them for money. But the next day be like ‘oh I’m so proud of you you're doing so well’ having that statement being completely unrelated to the previous events. This was constant. So that’s that story. I won’t talk much about Black Lives Matter because we all know about how that went. But it really affected me, I found myself crying over the victims multiple times. And the lack of support for the movement my peers or family showed made it fucking worse. Crying was a common occurrence for me now, mental health really taking a nosedive, being too scared to call myself ‘depressed’ or ‘mentally ill’ to any extent because I know I’m faking it and just want validation. That was also constant. Fun times huh.

BUT IT GETS WORSE 🥲, then I had to go back to school, awful to fucking abhorrent now. Year two of sixth form fun right? Sure, if u take away the ‘no free time period’ or the wanting to kill mystery for literally a whole 3 weeks. That was my lowest peak. Ever. I’ve never wanted to kill myself before then, don’t like that feeling. Shocker huh. That mixed with the constant anxiety of nothing is right anymore and also needing to succeed at school all made one healthy dose of ‘.exe has stopped working’ juice. Yet I played the fool, acting happy as if nothing had happened, or was happening at least, and venting by imagining scenes in my head with fictional characters lmao. Telling myself ’u can’t kill yourself because u don’t deserve too and ur just asking for attraction’. Then midterms happened blah blah blah, stress but I’m numb to it now that whole story.

But that’s not to say there wasn’t a silver lining.

Onto the good things finally, yes the year was probably one of the worst years I’ve been through in my life it did not go without its positives. For example early this year I got into borderlands properly, I finally explored the fandom and had a look at what it was like. Albeit a slow process considering I was still predominantly on Instagram at the time, and finding a community of a fandom on there is impossible. I started browsing Pinterest or the Internet for images that would link to my favourite characters, Who were to no ones surprise is the calypso twins. Pinterest led me to artworks and artworks led me to the infamous Lazulizard. Who I cherish all my being. Three weeks later after looking at her entire tumblr blog and stalking her of pretty much all her content (sorry for that by the way) I found border-spam. By this point I didn’t have tumblr and I had no intention of getting it seeing as an ongoing war I’ve had with myself since 2012, declaring I will be the bigger man and never get tumblr, which in hindsight was an awful mindset. Seeing as tumblr is probably one of my favourite places on Earth right now. But after also stalking border spams account, again sorry, and starving her of any content she’d ever posted. I was happy that this fandom although as niche as it is was actually getting content. At the time spam and lazu were absolute gods to me. Being the sole producer of a fandom I probably wasn’t even in properly, having both impeccable writing and impeccable art like good God. I would often think ‘wow wouldn’t it be incredible if I actually got to talk to them one day’, now look at me I’m doing commissions for both of them good God. And to be short joining tumblr felt like a fever dream and it’s probably the greatest thing I could’ve done this year, my parents are wrong, talking to strangers is amazing.

Something notable of mention this year as I actually got to figure out who I am as a person, I was able to find my own style and to find my interests, specifically in what I liked in terms of clothing. I thought I was LOL 2012 goth hipster but no apparently I’m manic Pixie dream girl. Going from pink is the ugliest colour in the world to having it be the only colour I will ever wear. I made some pretty big choices this year like cutting pretty much all of my hair off and dying it for the first time. Thanks strict parents for only letting me do that one now. But like I said I went to a character Ark and you know what I like it. I also played BioShock fallout and horizon zero dawn for the first time this year starting to really feel like a proper epic gamer, good lord kill me, and falling in love with all of them almost immediately. I also figured out on a plant mum and I’m into vulture culture although my parents have to disagree with that one. Asking to buy an Horse and fox skull somehow scared them a little bit can’t seem to figure out why lmao.

So a conclusion, Fuck you 2020 you made me miss two comic cons and I will never forgive you for that shit I am SO mad. But I will give you the benefit of the doubt you did make me meet some absolutely incredible people who I consider my friends, despite going against every single Internet safety law I was ever taught as a child. But you know what who gives a flying shit I love you guys. So that’s what I wanted to say. I want to say thank you to everyone on here and everyone is following me or even interacted me with on that matter. You mean the world to me and I really fucking mean it. Are you going to be nothing but amazing ever since I walked onto this fucking hell hole. And what I go through all of this bullshit again if it means I ended up here? You know what I think I just might. So again I thank you and I hope your year didn’t go as badly as mine, and fuck it bring on whatever the fucks next!

Honourable mention of this year was The time Elisa actually complimented me and I cried a little bit and had a panic attack but you know that’s for another day

🥺💕

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 13

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Micah being Micah

.....

Chapter 13

I couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur's reaction after telling him I wanted to kill that no-good bastard. Currently stood in the cover of Arthurs tent as Miss Grimshaw checked my wound for any infection and helped me apply fresh dressings. She had seen so much of me at this point it didn't bother me anymore. She really was the mother hen of this gang. His reaction was one of confusion at first. His brows furrowed and his mouth hanging open like he had a million questions but didn’t know which one to start with. The moment I began to laugh his expression relaxed, snorting out a laugh along and shaking his head. Like it was a lighthearted joke shared amongst friends. To be honest, I am undecided on if it was a joke or not, I couldn’t see myself going through with something like that but I imagined it none-the-less The rage was true, I felt it from the depths of that pit in my stomach and as it spread throughout me. I wanted him to die, to be rid of him for once and for all, it would be the only thing to quell this feeling. 

My wound travelled from my breastbone and down just shy a couple of inches from my navel. A clean-cut that wasn’t deep enough to require stitches but enough to scar. Another to add to the collection.

Once done I made my way to the scout fire just on the edge of camp. It was hardly used by other members of the camp so the fire was out, everyone preferring to sit amongst each other at the main fire. Kicking the burnt logs on top I collected what I was after, the charcoals that sat at the bottom. Old wood that was burnt for so long and almost starved of oxygen. It was perfect for what I needed. I took my blackened treasure to the lakeside, collecting a pestle and mortar as well as a spare metal cup on the way. Sitting on the small jetty I began to make my concoction, breaking down the charcoal till it was nothing but dust and adding small amounts of water. Mixing it all together till a black paste was formed. I kept at it crushing as much of the charcoal until it was thoroughly mixed. The sun was high in the sky at this point, its rays reflecting off the ripples as it licked the stony shore. I continued what I was doing even as I heard footsteps on the jetty coming towards me. The person stopping just a couple of feet away from me, my back still turned away from whoever it may be. “What you up to girly?”

It was Micah. I had only interacted with him a few times since being here. His comments always seem condescending and slimy. The girls had warned me about him, none of them liked him and actively tried to keep away from him after comments he had made towards each of them. I wouldn’t have guessed he had been here only a handful of months given how he hangs around Dutch like a bad smell. “Charcoal mixed with water. Going to use it as eye makeup to hopefully make me less recognisable while out of camp.” “I thought only whores painted their faces. Whores and clowns.” He sneered 

“They possibly do.”

“Bit of a shame to ruin that young pretty face with makeup don’t you think? If you ever want to leave camp for a drink just come along with me. I’ll make sure to take care of you.” His voice turned lower with seductive tones. Worthy to make the bile from your stomach make its way up and stick to the back of your throat.

“Um, thank you for the offer, Micah, but I think I’ll feel much safer disguising myself somehow no matter who is with me.” I still didn't turn to him, hoping that he would take the hint that I didn't want his company. 

“Suit yourself. But the offer still stands, I’m willing to take you out on the town. Show you how us folks really party. None of that pricey wine and fancy petticoats you’re probably used to.”

I finally turned to him, looking at him deadpan in the hopes he would get the hint. He seemed too as he raised his hands in defeat and began walking backwards back into camp. That man desperately needs to go into town himself and pay for a woman. Hopefully, then he might just be a bit more bearable to converse with. But no woman would be paid enough to lay with that man. 

 Once done I poured the contents into the metal cup then cleaned out the pestle and mortar before returning it. The camp was much quieter than this morning when Sadie threatened to slice up Pearson. Arthur decided to take her out of camp and help with collecting any provisions Pearson needed. Knowing what Sadie had been through, losing her home and husband brutally and thus having her life flipped completely on its head, I wasn’t surprised by her overall behaviour. A once hardworking and happy woman with nothing to lose. I understood that in a way. They both arrived back, Sadie now sporting pants instead of a dress. They both unloaded the wagon and then Arthur was off again to meet Dutch back in Rhodes. I made my way over to the wagon to help organise the provisions and to offer my help in preparing the stew. Give Sadie and Pearson a break from each other. “Nice look you got going on, Sadie.” I smiled at the woman as I approached. She turned towards me, a box of vegetables in her hands. 

“Why, thank you. Thought I would take a leaf outta your book. They are sure more practical than a damn dress.”

“More comfortable too.” She hummed her agreement, placing the box down and then leaning against the wagon and lighting a cigarette. She offered me one to take from the box and I gladly accepted. She lit another match and presented it to me for me to light it with. Smoke quickly fills the air between us. 

“So how are you doing?” She asked, waving the match in the air and then flinging it into the dirt.

“I’ve had worse. What about you?”

“This place is driving me nuts. Glad I could get out for a while. Shooting those no good Raiders that ambushed us helped me relieve some of the rage.”

“You got ambushed?” I looked at her with wide eyes, smoke being exhaled as I spoke. 

“Relax, I ain’t afraid to hold my own...Ain’t afraid of dyin’ neither.”

“Hmm, I knew that feeling once,” I replied, thinking back to that night looking over the balcony railings in Saint Denis. Dying by his hand was a petrifying thought but dying by my own was something I thought about often back then.

“Oh, I got what you asked for. Sumac flowers and beet juice?”

“Thank you so much, Sadie. This is perfect.” I boasted, taking the items from her.

“What you need it for anyway?”

“Sumac and beets are natural dyes. Hoping together they will change my hair colour to a dark red.” 

“Well, that sounds mighty smart.” She smiled, blowing out smoke into the air above and then flinging the cigarette into the dirt along with the matches. We parted ways after that and I began to help Pearson prepare the stew. He seemed considerably more at ease with me as his assistant chef this time around. We exchanged mindless chatter about the weather and what variations of stew he could create. That was until he mentioned his time in the Navy. Once he started he couldn’t stop. But I listened along with a smile on my face and the occasional ‘uh huh’. After the threats he received this morning and gave out no less, I wasn’t in the position to stop him from having this moment of happiness.     Once everything was in the pot and beginning its slow boil, I made my way over to Karen for a towel I could borrow. Collected a fresh pair of clothing and a bar of soap and made my way to the lake. Beet juice and Sumac in hand. I'd crushed the Sumac into a powder after preparing dinner then mixed it in the jar that held the beet juice. It was very dark red, like old blood or wet artists paint. With my dark blonde hair, it should have no problem changing the overall colour while still looking somewhat natural. I’ll look like a new woman no doubt.  I followed along the waters edge until I was out of sight from the camp but still close enough I would be heard if anything was to happen. Placing the towel and soap on an old fallen log I made work on stripping my clothes and dressings, dropping them on the dirt around me. They were sweat-soaked anyway with how hot it can get here during the day. Opening the jar I was met with the powerful smell of beets, that earthy smell along with the scent the sumac was giving off was overwhelming but thankfully not too unpleasant. Making my way into the lake I began pouring the mixture onto the top of my head, making sure to get every strand completely saturated and not paying any mind to how it will stain my skin on the back of my neck and down my back where it lays. Leaving a trail in my path I flung the jar back onto the shore once I was waist-deep. Thankfully the lake remained shallow quite far out, given that I couldn’t get my wound wet. I began to wash, humming to myself at the delightful coolness the water granted. I’m starting to get used to this. Bathing in lakes instead of warm and deep porcelain tubs. Fish surrounding me instead of bubbles and the smell of the earth instead of Lavender hair oils. Although I'd probably be saying the exact opposite if I was in colder climates. I spent more time than I usually would bathing. Cupping the water and letting it pour over my shoulders and arms to wash away the soap and dirt, being careful to avoid the cut as I went. The scabs formed a ridge along my flesh, the skin tight and red around the edges. A constant reminder. 

Leaning back I dipped my head into the water to remove the dye and just hoping it had done its job. The water surrounding me turned the same deep red as I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling out any knots as each digit travelled from the top to the ends. An overwhelming sense of tranquillity washed over me as I looked out beyond the lake to the land ahead and around me. A small flock of ducks milling about further up, diving under the water to catch any small fish swimming below them. I slowly started making my way along, hoping I didn't disturb them. The cool water lapped around my waist and rippled behind me. Perching myself next to a large boulder standing out of the water to watch them as they quacked and ruffled their feathers. I was lost in my thoughts once again for a short while, the sounds of my name being called from the shore behind me bringing me back to where I was. I made my way around the boulder to see Arthur standing at the shore beside my scattered clothing. We saw each other at the same time, my arms coming up to cover myself, him turning around to face away from me. No doubt he saw. I could feel the heat flushing to my face, my cheeks probably as red as my hair should be. “Jesus...are you okay? Your cut opened up?” He asked, fidgeting on his feet as he looked in the direction of camp

“What? Erm, no, I’m fine.” I shook my head. He turned back slowly then, his eyes going everywhere else until they landed on me, then looked down to where my clothes lay.

“W-well what's with the blood all over here?”

“Oh...that’s beet juice. I’m fine, Arthur. I’m coming out in a moment.”

“Okay...Well, Hosea is looking for you.” 

“Okay...Thank you, Arthur.” I said more quietly, my cheeks still burning and my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. His eyes met mine for a moment and I expected him to turn away again like the gentleman he usually is, but he didn't. And neither did i. He inhaled deeply, nodding his head then turned to make his way back to camp with some haste. 

I leaned against the boulder, exhaling a breath I didn't know I was holding in. The chill of the water returning as my body began to cool down.

Despite the embarrassment of what just happened I thought to myself, out of all the men in the camp he was the only one I was glad came looking for me. Anyone else I would be mortified. 

I didn't mind Arthur seeing me like this. I trusted him...I liked him. 

My whole body shivered, goosebumps forming all across my arms and chest. It wasn’t caused by the water or the air was beginning to lower in temperature. 

With my lips curving up into a smidgen of a smile and a quiet sigh I admitted to myself that I liked that he saw me. I wanted him to.

@kashasenpai​

[scriveyner]

let it rest in peace 1/4

James always loved to watch Keith run.

The black wolf was a liquid shadow; compacted into a powerful ball of muscle and potential. It was poetry to watch slowed down, enormous paws dug into the ground for purchase and extending all the way out again, all four legs clearing the ground in a straight shot. Head down, laser-focused on his target, Keith moved so fast at that moment James felt like he was seeing an afterimage, the actual thing there and gone before he could even blink.

Keith ran every chance he got; up and down the long familiar stretch of beach, his slightly smaller frame shadow to Shiro’s enormously powerful white wolf. He ran through the woods, threaded the trees, circled their camps and the truck, and nearly made James dizzy with his exuberance and a seemingly endless wellspring of energy. He loved the most to run in the plains, though, when they went east and spent their nights in fields under an endless expanse of stars.

Run with me, Keith said, both hands on James’s wrists, eyes bright and skin bronzed by firelight.

He couldn’t deny Keith anything, not even this; futile exercise that it was. Before too long Keith would tire of lagging and would be on four legs, bounding back and forth and unstoppable. All the same, James humored him every time, jogged with him until Keith couldn’t bear it any longer, and bolted; across the clearing, across the sand, across the field—ears and tail high.

He loved to run.

He loved James, too.

James panted, hand pressed to the side of his neck, cheek in the dirt. He watched Keith run like this, powerhouse that he was, gone in a twinkling, fury and sound.

“I’ll protect you,” Keith said, calm and confident, sitting up in their motel bed, the covers kicked to the floor and his skin brushed blue by the cold light of the television.

It was an ancient song and dance between them now, months-weeks-years of it, Keith with his lazy certainty that he could take on anything and James with his world-weary amusement, knowing every beat to the conversation by heart. “You can’t, against everything.”

James brushed his knuckles along the outside of Keith’s thigh and Keith stirred, leaned over him and kissed him with a rakish grin. “You don’t know me very well then, do you, Griffin?”

I do know you, James thought, the words drowned in the blood squeezing between his fingers, the darkness starting to claw at the edge of his vision. He exhaled again and coughed wetly, closed his eyes and dreamed of running with his wolf.

Read the rest on AO3 or

let it rest in peace – 1

The sky was in his heart, an endless expanse of blue that reached horizon to horizon. The air was fresh, spring again, the sharp bite of winter’s chill melted in the calm, bright sun. The fields went on forever, lush green landscapes covered in wildflowers cornstalks barely to his hip, wheat swaying in the wind.

It was home, and yet.

“Griffin!” A voice, faint, familiar, carried on the wind of memories. “I found him, shit, shit, Shiro, hurry--!”

“Sing for me,” James said, brushed his fingers through Keith’s hair, the light of the dying embers caught in his raven locks. Keith leaned up on one elbow, smiling helplessly down at him, before rising smoothly on four legs.

James combed his fingers through dark fur, as Keith stepped away and out of reach the loss felt sudden, insurmountable—and he reached for Keith as the wolf raised his face to the sky, a dirge for the moon.

“James, no, no no no--” Keith’s voice, too distant. “Stay with me, please, please--”

The moon was in his blood, fat and heavy in the desert’s endless sky. The stars seemed to go on forever, past the point of the horizon, patterning down, under his feet until everything was night, washed out in the light of a full cold moon.

#

Everything hurt.

James squinted open gummy eyes, listening to the constant steady beep of the medical equipment beyond his line of sight. He couldn’t raise his arm to wipe his eyes, so he lolled his head on the pillow and immediately regretted the movement, paint shooting down his spine.

He let out a small involuntary grunt as he shifted, and that disturbed the dark head leaned against the hospital bed. James flexed his hand, and Keith lifted his head groggily, eyes red-rimmed and stubble so thick James knew it had been days, or longer. “Hey,” James croaked, lining up some kind of lumberjack crack but the single syllable was all he could manage. Keith’s eyes welled up immediately.

Keith pulled James’s hand up, both of his hands wrapped around it still, and pressed James’s hand to his mouth. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Keith’s voice sounded wrecked, worse than he’d ever heard.

It hurt to swallow, fuck, it hurt to breathe but James gathered himself and spoke. “Love you,” he murmured, squeezing Keith’s hands, and Keith let out a small little sob and didn’t raise his head. James smiled as much as he could manage, closed his eyes and dropped back off the cliff, into darkness.

#

When he woke again it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. The lights in the room were the same, although this time when he moved his head it didn’t immediately feel like it was going to come off his shoulders. There were no windows that he could see—just machines, off-white walls and a television up in the corner that was currently off.

Keith was sitting up in a chair beside the bed, looking better than he had. The stubble wasn’t as thick now, he’d shaved at least once; his hair was clean and he smelled like Keith, even with the competing antiseptic hospital smell attempting to overwhelm. He seemed to sense that James was looking at him and lifted his head, closing the folder he’d had open on his lap and smiling shakily for James. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

James lolled his head on the pillow, swallowed and then spoke hoarsely. “You ever seen Roger Rabbit?”

Keith’s brow furrowed, and James sighed, coughed a bit because the sigh hurt, goddammit. “Of course you haven’t.”

The door opened and they both looked at it—and it was Lance, leaning in the room clearly to get Keith. He looked tired, but lit up when he saw James awake. “Griffin, holy shit,” Lance said. “How’re you feeling, man? That was a fucking close call, if Shiro hadn’t--”

“Lance,” Keith said, his tone dagger-sharp. Lance stopped, gave Keith a look that James couldn’t really decipher, and then Keith said, “do you know what the fuck Roger Rabbit is?”

Nonplussed, Lance looked between them. Then he snapped his fingers, pointed at James and said, “you feel like you got squashed by the steamroller at the end!”

James chuckled, then groaned because that really fucking hurt.

Keith rolled his eyes, set the folder on a small table at his elbow, and got up. He put one hand on the mattress and leaned over, kissing James’s forehead gently. “I’ll be right back, I bet Shiro wants to see me,” he said. “Lance’ll keep you company, though.”

“Mm,” James was already feeling drowsy again, the interaction draining. “Keith?” Keith hesitated, looked down at him. James raised his arm slowly, touching the thick bandages around his throat, felt the ghost of fangs and claws nearly ripping his arm out of its socket, and asked, “how the fuck am I alive?”

There was a split-second flicker of something across Keith’s face he was too drugged up to catch. Keith took his hand away from his throat, patted it, and said, “please rest, James.”

His eyes felt too heavy, but he watched Keith say something in low tones to Lance, caught Shiro’s name but little else. Lance gave James a look and then shook his head, Keith clapped his shoulder and left the room. James closed his eyes and listened to Lance shuffle, pulling the other chair away from the wall to sit on his left side.

James swallowed, didn’t bother to open his eyes. “What did Keith do, Lance?”

The shuffling and scraping stopped abruptly. He heard the chair’s cushion complain slightly as Lance flopped into it, and he could almost see the way Lance tilted forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He definitely heard the aggrieved sigh.

“It wasn’t Keith’s call,” Lance said softly. “It was mine.”

James slept.

#

“You’ve barely eaten anything,” Keith said, the frown evident in his voice as he dropped into the chair he’d been living out of for the past week and a half—longer, James knew, since before he woke up even if he didn’t know how long that was.

James looked up from his phone, an equivalent frown on his face as he thrust the offending piece of technology in Keith’s direction. “I don’t like this,” he said. “I want my old phone back.”

Keith looked at the proffered phone. “Your old phone is in two pieces,” he said, and after a moment James sighed and retracted his arm, setting the phone on the tray extended over his lap on the bed.

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, what the fuck is wrong with this phone, it’s so…” he poked it. “I don’t trust the Blade not to be using some weird-ass shit magic on their technology, what if this thing achieves sentience? There’s a horror movie for you right there, fuck it.”

“Hasn’t technology run amuck been done to death by now anyway?”

“Probably. I was thinking more in the vein of the phone actually biting people, though.”

“Transformers,” Keith muttered, and James groaned and folded his arms. After a moment Keith tilted his head, gave James a fond grin, and they both laughed. James winced, touched the bandages around his neck, and then laughed again because laughing hurt, but it was a good hurt. He was alive, after all.

He looked at the door, still buoyant in his mood. “Shiro and Lance are here,” he said, a split-second before the knock came; and he caught the way Keith gave him a particular look out of the corner of his eye. “Come in!”

“Someone sounds better already,” Shiro said, opening the door with his left hand and holding it open as Lance pranced in behind him, a courier bag slung over his shoulder. The delicious smell of cheese and grease followed them in, wrapped around Lance like a living thing, and Lance beamed at James as he slipped the bag off his shoulder.

“We bring contraband!”

“Hey,” Keith said, sitting up as Lance pulled a fast food sack out of his bag, dropping an enormous burger on the tray in front of James. “He’s on a strict diet--”

“If you’re going to be Mr. Narc I’ll give James your burger too,” Lance threatened—and they both looked at James, who had immediately begun destroying the burger like he’d never eaten one before in his life.

“I’m not very hungry, anyway,” Keith said, clearly amused at the display, and James tucked into the second burger with relish.

James didn’t realize how off he’d felt until he had two burgers sitting heavy in his gut. Lance sat on the left side of his bed, elbow on the mattress and volleying barbs at Keith, who wasn’t taking them well. Shiro, on the other hand, didn’t get too close to the bed, and kept trying to fold his arms—which wasn’t happening, given that his prosthetic arm was, currently, disconnected.

Of course, that drew his attention because he’d hardly ever seen Shiro without it. “What happened with your arm?” James asked, balling up the wrapper from the second burger and tossing it into the sack Lance had left open on the tray.

“Tech department took it for maintenance,” Shiro said. He lifted his right arm and pointed to the stub. “Have you never seen it off?”

James shook his head, transitioned to a nod. “No, I have, it’s just unusual. Also, you keep trying to cross your arms and that’s, sorry, that’s hilarious.”

Shiro put his one hand on his hip and hung his head, sighing audibly. “Lance made fun of me in the elevator, too. Do I really cross my arms that much?”

“Yes,” James, Keith and Lance all said in emphatic unison.

“Frequently crossed arms is a sign someone is holding back something important,” James said, raising a finger knowledgeably, and Keith snorted, while Lance leaned on the armrest of the chair, in Shiro’s direction.

“So, what secrets are you hiding from me, Takashi?”

Shiro crossed over and put his hand on the back of Lance’s chair, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Just how very much I love you.”

Lance caught the front of his shirt, turned his face up, and they kissed properly. “That’s no secret,” Lance snorted, clearly amused.

“No shit,” Keith said, leaned back in his chair and exchanging an amused glance with James.

“And speaking of secrets,” James said, “anyone feel like enlightening me as to how I’m still here right now? Because I really should be dead.”

The room immediately fell quiet.

James looked around at them. Keith folded his arms, met his eye for a quick second and looked away. Lance wouldn’t look at him at all, and Shiro had a pained expression on his face. “Yeah,” James said. “That’s what I figured.”

Shiro slipped his hand from the back of Lance’s chair to his shoulder and squeezed it. “We should go,” he said, and Keith stood.

“No,” James said. “I want to hear it from everyone.”

Shiro gave him an apologetic look, and Lance stood. “We’ll talk later,” Lance said, earnest and weirdly obedient, following Shiro to the door. James watched them go, Keith seeing them out—and his ears caught a few exchanged words, but nothing that made any kind of sense.

Keith closed the door behind them, held that pose for a moment before walking back to James’s hospital bed. He stopped and looked at James, as James tore the last of the bandages off his shoulder, the ones from his neck already strewn across the bed. “James,” Keith said, pained.

James bared his neck, lifted his chin, and said, “I had my fucking throat torn out, Keith, and there’s not a scratch on me. What did you do?”

Keith sat on the mattress, pushed the forgotten tray out of the way, and looked James in the eye. “You were bleeding out in the back of the Jeep,” he said. “We were too far away from everything, remember, Lance even fucking joked about it, before…” Keith sighed, looked away for a second before looking back at him. “You needed blood. Shiro gave you some.”

James exhaled once, pushed his hand back through his hair, and said, “holy shit, I thought you were gonna tell me you sold your soul in some kind of Faustian bargain or something, fucking hell.” He slid his hand down to his face, exhaled again shakily, and said, “he didn’t bite me? Just… a blood transfusion?”

“He would’ve, if I asked.” Keith looked down at his hands. “Maybe even if I didn’t, but it wasn’t the full moon.”

James rubbed his hand over his throat, the new skin raw and unmarred. “So...what. Am I a werewolf now? What does this mean?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Keith looked at him again, looked more tired than James had ever seen. “The full moon was a few nights ago, you didn’t change. Nothing changed, really. You just healed…really fast.”

“Is that why we’re still here, then? Am I under observation or something?”

“Yeah.”

James said, “yeah, okay, observation time is over.” He pulled at the IV for a second before Keith grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand away, leaning over him. “Let me go,” James snarled, and Keith didn’t release him, stared into his eyes and looked as remorseful as James had ever seen him.

“James,” Keith said softly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this--”

“Yeah,” James said, tried to shake Keith’s grip but didn’t have the strength to break it. “Neither did I.”

[briefololtragedy]

Wooden Blocks Ch 3

Chapter: Baby Steps

Pairing: MinaSaku

Rating G

Summary: Minato and Sakura meet outside of the clinic without Naruto. Word count 5500

Posted on AO3

Her feet hit the pavement hard. She could feel her muscles contract allowing the blood in her to pump faster. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she could tell her face was beet red. The music in her ears drowned out some of the noises around her as she ran down the streets. This was her weekend morning ritual. Wake up, put on her running gear, and run to her heart’s content. It was one of the few times she was able to shut off her brain. Well she tried to shut off her brain. She thought back to coffee with Ino a few weeks ago. 

“Come on Forehead tell me how the art gallery was. Did you guys have fun afterwards?” Ino kept wiggling her eyebrows. 

“The art was different. We walked around and then we got dinner. He took me home and then left. “ Sakura sipped her coffee. Allowing the aroma to fill her senses. She just couldn’t see Kakashi as more than just a friend. She couldn’t handle the fact that he was late. She understood the first time, but this time he was almost an hour late and no proper excuse. Then when she was around him it always felt off. When the highlight of the evening is talking to a patient’s father that’s a sign. 

“Seriously! That’s all you're going to give me. I need more details.”

“There is not much in the way of details. He was late by almost an hour. Showed up with just an ``I'm sorry'' and then we went on our date.” Sakura made sure to do her best man voice impression with the ‘I’m sorry.’ 

“Seriously Sakura, you need to stop finding fault with every guy you date. Don’t just focus on one small flaw.” Sakura did not see how wanting a date to be on time was a bad thing. There interests didn’t seem to mesh well. 

“Plus he brought you food that day. Wasn’t that so romantic?” Sakura rolled her eyes. Yeah romantic if you get judged for being hungry and not being ashamed to eat. She did thank Kakashi profusely for the kind gesture. 

“Give it more than just a couple of dates.” Sakura huffed into her coffee. 

She was trying to look past a few hiccups in her time with Kakashi. They seemed to do well talking over text, but when it came to being in person together the click just didn’t happen. She asked him to lunch yesterday and it just keeps falling flat with him. Sakura also didn’t care for his favorite reading material, Jiraiya was a class A pervert. 

Sakura forced her legs to go faster. Her mind wasn’t supposed to be overthinking. Its only job was to help her function in her run. After running for a little while longer she looked at her watch. Five miles. She slowed to a stop. Her muscles twitched in rhythm with her music. She needed food and coffee. Sakura lived close to the downtown area and her runs usually had her circling  the heart of the city. She looked around and noticed she was in one of the more hipster areas. 

A smile found its way on her face when she saw the antiqued green door to a coffee shop. It had recently opened and she had been dying to try it out. Sakura had almost thought to ask Kakashi to come with her to the shop last week but he didn’t like coffee. He also didn’t like mornings, so meeting before she had to go to work was a no go. 

The small bell on the top corner of the door chimed as she entered. The shop was decently packed for 9am on a Saturday. She easily made her way through the store to the counter. ‘Hmm all of this looks so good. I want to order everything.’ One of the reasons Sakura ran so much was because she enjoyed eating. Most days she ate so healthy a fitness nut would say to take a step back. However, those days were to balance out when all she wanted was carbs, sugar, candy, and chocolate. Yes, Sakura at times ate like the elf her patients thought she was. 

“I��ll have a White Chocolate Mocha with a pump of raspberry sauce and an order of blueberry pancakes, please.” Sakura could feel her blood sugar start to spike with her order, but she didn’t care. She wanted her sugar and no one will stand in her way. Her usual black coffee just wouldn’t cut it today. 

After paying she took her number and looked for a seat. She scanned the coffee shop looking for an open seat. She hoped to get one by the windows because the thought of drinking her sugar and people watching really appealed to her. However, she paused when she saw a familiar mess of blonde hair. 

“Mr. Namikaze?”

_____________________________

Over the last few weeks Minato felt like he was going at turbo speed. They were finally going to submit the proposal for the bank tower and he really wanted to get it. His desire to beat everyone else is what brought him into work on a Saturday morning. Well Naruto waking up at 6am this morning and then not wanting to go back to sleep also played a role in the decision as well. 

Minato dressed Naruto in a simple outfit with a baby Yoda top and light jacket. It was such a beautiful morning that Minato strapped Naruto in a baby carrier and walked to his office downtown. The streets were peaceful as he strolled down the streets. He passed a few runners, saw some people on their stoops getting their morning paper. Mornings were one of his favorite times of the day. He always enjoyed the stillness that came with mornings. How things didn’t have to be rushed. Kushina could never understand his love for mornings. 

“Why can’t you just go back to sleep. There are more hours in the day that you could be awake. Be lazy with me.” 

Minato loved their lazy mornings, but he didn’t want to waste a day when there was so much work to be done. He soon found himself walking into the lobby of the building his office was in. 

“Morning Mr. Namikaze. You just can’t escape this place it seems.” The security officer gave him a warm greeting. Minato just smiled and held Naruto closer to him. 

“Is that Naruto?” The security officer, Jin, had come over to take a peak. He would never forget all the conversations he had with Jin when he found out he was going to be a father. Jin had 3 older children and provided a lot of advice. However, it was one of his lowest mornings that Jin was there for him. 

It had been a month since Naruto was born and Minato went into work on a Sunday morning. He just sat in his office. For the first time tears fell from his eyes. 

“I don’t know how I am going to do this.” He just wanted to wallow in his misery. Minato wanted to be alone, but Jin was checking the floors on his daily rounds. 

“Mr. Namikaze is everything alright?” Minato wanted to say that no nothing was alright. Everything was wrong. How the hell was he going to raise a child on his own. Kushina would be able to do it without batting an eye. Minato didn’t read all of the baby books. He didn’t look at preschools and daycares before Naruto came into the world. Minato could barely put a diaper on in the baby classes. 

Jin seemed to read his thoughts and he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry about Kushina. She was a wonderful woman.” Jin paused. Minato found the tears falling faster. 

“Mr. Namikaze I have 3 kids of my own. I know you can raise Naruto and give him a wonderful life. My late wife died 2 years after our last was born. I found myself the sole caretaker of 3 rambunctious and moody girls. There are a lot of twists and turns in the life of parenting. The pain of losing a spouse will lessen overtime, but you will see her whenever you look into the eyes of your boy. I still see my wife in everything my girls do.”

Minato knew what it was like to lose his parents. It crushed him that Naruto would never have his mother. 

“Do you ever feel like you were never enough?” 

“All the time. But let me tell you something. As long as you love him that is more than enough.” 

“Yes. Decided he should start earning money early for all the diapers we go through.” Jin gave him a deep laugh. They talked briefly and after 10 minutes, 8 of which Jin held Naruto and almost didn’t let him go, Minato ventured to his office. The moment he stepped in he realized one important fact. He forgot something for Naruto to sit in. ‘Crap’ Why didn’t he think further ahead! Minato looked around his office. He really wanted to work, but didn’t want to keep the heavy baby carrier on him. He strolled over to his desk trying not to panic. As he sat down in his chair he looked around. He then realized he had a suit jacket on the back of his door. He can lay the jacket out on the floor and Naruto could lay on that! Plus Naruto was holding his fox toy so that should provide enough entertainment for Minato to get some work done. 

Within a few short minutes Minato was going over the proposal for the millionth time. Apparently in the middle of working Naruto fell asleep. It wasn’t until a knock on his office door happened that Minato realized the time. It was now 830am and he had been working for the last hour. He looked up to see who was at work today.

“Rin? Obito? What are you two doing here?” The couple were dressed casually both in jeans and simple shirts. Minato laughed when he realized they were in matching shirts. He really wanted Obito to propose soon. The last time they talked he was planning on it in the next couple of months. 

“No Minato the important question is why are you at work on a Saturday morning?” Rin was taping her foot and hands on her hips. 

“This proposal…”

“The proposal is perfect and will be submitted first thing Monday morning.” It was Obito who cut him off. Minato wanted to protest. 

“Don’t even start Minato. You need a break, so here is what is going to happen. Obito and I will take Naruto for the morning. You will go enjoy some time to yourself. Heaven knows that you have not taken a break since Naruto was born.” Minato tried to butt in, but Rin kept going. 

“And we at least won’t get pizza sauce on Naruto.” Rin was now pulling him out of his chair. Obito had gathered Naruto from the floor, he somehow strapped the baby carrier to his chest already. Soon the foursome were in the elevator heading to the lobby. 

“Have a good weekend guys.” Jin happily waved as they walked through the lobby. 

“You too Jin and thanks for the text.” Obito waved enthusiastically. 

“What text?” Minato didn’t like what he was thinking. “Did you have Jin keep tabs on me?” 

Rin and Obito looked at each other and simultaneously answered. “We plead the 5th.” 

Minato tried to follow them, but Rin wasn’t having it. “Go find a coffee shop or something to sit in.” When did Rin become so bossy?

So Minato ended up slowly strolling down the streets of downtown. He realized that he was needing another caffeine hit and could use some food as well. His attention was caught by a new coffee shop with an eclectic feel. ‘This will do.’ Once he saw the menu the fate was sealed. He ordered a simple plan late and a lavender vanilla scone. He soon found his place in one of the booths by the windows. It didn’t take too long before he pulled out his iPad and started to read, Ready Player One. 

He tried to shut his worrying mind off. Soon Minato became engrossed in the novel; he didn’t see a certain pink haired doctor walk in, not until he heard her sing-song voice. 

“Mr. Namikaze.” Minato looked up and all the air left his lungs. Standing before him was Dr. Haruno in running shorts and a sleeveless racer back exercise top. 

“Dr. Haruno. How are you?” His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would pop out of his chest. 

“Sakura.” He just stared at her. 

“Excuse me.” Minato was confused. 

“Please call me Sakura. We are outside of work and I feel weird when people call me a doctor outside of work. And I am doing good Mr. Namikaze. How are you?” Minato felt like an idiot. She was saying to call her by her first name. He really wanted to hit his head on the table. 

“Minato. Please call me Minato then. I am doing well.” Sakura smiled at him. He then realized she was holding a number card and he also realized there were no seats available. Minato weighed the pros and cons of asking what he was about to. In the end he didn’t want Sakura to leave. 

“Please join me. There are no other open seats and it looks like you have ordered.” He could tell she was hesitant. The moment she sat across from him he felt the small victory. 

Sakura wasn’t sure what possessed her to sit down with Mr. Namikaze. Minato, she corrected in her head. Although as she thought about it, it was the logical choice. He had an empty seat and she needed to eat. He looked more relaxed so relaxed when he was reading she hated bothering him. As she looked around she realized someone was missing. 

“Where’s Naruto?” Sakura found herself a little disappointed the other familiar mop of blonde hair wasn’t present. There was something about Naruto’s smile that tugged at her heart. He was sure to be a heartbreaker. 

“Two of my friends took him for the morning. They wanted to give me a break.” Minato almost felt jealous of his own son. How many women would want to be in this position? As much as he was annoyed at not being the main focus it warmed him on the inside that Naruto’s pediatrician cared so much for him. 

“That’s so sweet of them. They won’t eat pizza while holding him I hope.” Her smirk caused his stomach to summersault. 

“No, they are much more responsible. I’m sure Rin wants it as practice for their future. Although Obito has to propose first.” Minato was surprised at the ease of carrying a conversation with her. Their conversation was interrupted when Sakura’s order arrived. He had never seen someone so happy to see food. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her kid in the candy store look on her face. 

The smell of her coffee and pancakes filled her nostrils. She could smell the warm blueberries from the pancakes and a hint of lemon. Her coffee was strong, but the white chocolate and raspberry cut through some of the bitter notes as she took her fist sip. She wasted no time drizzling the pancakes with the blueberry syrup. She had to slow her actions remembering the last time she scarfed down food in front of Kakashi. All of Sakura’s self control went to stopping herself from devouring everything. 

Minato could see the struggle in her eyes as she slowly ate her food. Looking at her attire she likely spent the morning working out and was likely to be starving. 

“You don’t have to hold back eating your food in front of me. What were you doing this morning?” Sakura was touched by his words. 

“I went for one of my runs, so I am very hungry.” She didn’t fully unleash all her enthusiasm onto her pancakes, but did pick up the pace. They were so flaky and melted in her mouth, worth every calorie. They sat in a comfortable silence as Sakura ate and Minato read. Sakura felt like the two names she heard were familiar, but didn’t know from where. 

Halfway through her food her stomach was happy enough to slow down. She then took in the appearance of the man she was sitting with. The first time she met him she realized how drop dead gorgeous he was, he still is. It’s no wonder why all the nurses swoon for him. 

Soon they were parting ways. Sakura could only make it through half of her coffee, but was able to get it in a to-go cup with some black coffee added to it. 

“Thank you for letting me sit with you Mr...Minato. Tell Naruto I said hi.” Just like that he watched Sakura walk away. 

Minato texted Rin to see where they were. His nerves were on end until she texted back. Relief rushed over him once she said they were back home. Rin had a spare set of keys to his home and wanted Naruto to be in a familiar environment. 

It was a quick walk back home. The moment Minato walked into his home he took out his phone to take a picture. Obito was sprawled out on the couch, Rin nestled into him, and Naurto played on Obito’s chest. Rin heard the snap of his phone and looked up. 

“Minato! You’re back. How was your break?” Rin easily navigated over Obito and Naruto to get up. Minato thought back to his time with Sakura. 

“It was just what I needed. Thank you for strong arming me into it.” Naruto startled to babble as he heard his father’s voice. Minato wasted no time in picking him up. Obito yawned and stretched. 

“We should better get going. I expect to be babysitting more often.” Rin gave Minato a quick hug and kicked Obito as they walked out the door. 

Minato sat down on his couch, Naruto on his knee. He bounced him up and down. After being in the coffee shop he realized how quiet his home was. 

“You will never guess who I ran into today.” Naruto just tilted his head to the side and smiled. 

“Dr. Haruno says hi.” 

__________________________

The energy in the office was chaotic. They had just submitted the proposal and knew time would move at a snail's pace until they heard. It could be today or in the next couple of weeks. Minato wanted to throw up. He couldn’t think about all the what ifs, so started to check on the progress of their other buildings. 

Currently they were working on a couple of restaurants for the Akimichi family, the Uhiha’s were wanting a revamped police station, and the Nara’s wanted a second building for their accounting firm. He also had that strange job from Nagato from a group called Akatsuki. Minato still didn’t know what the group did. All he got from Nagato was that the group represented a variety of different interests in a variety of areas.   

Lunch was eaten at his desk as he worked through the hour. He didn’t want to stop. If he stopped he would just worry about that stupid proposal for Sarutobi International Bank. Minato looked up and saw Kakashi and Obito fooling around. Those two were only a couple of years younger than him, but acted like toddlers. At least Rin had a decent head on her shoulders. 

He was pulled out his thoughts when his secretary called him. It was the Sarutobi group. They were calling already. They must have looked at the building proposal, laughed, and then threw it in the garbage. 

“This is Minato.” His hands started to sweat. 

“Minato, my boy. This is Hiruzen Sarutobi. I just wanted to tell you we got a lot of different architecture firms submitting some top notch building proposals.” Yep here came the rejection. 

“Your group’s proposal was such an easy standout we didn’t have to debate for long. This was one of the smoothest meetings we have had for our buildings. Typically we take at least a month to decide.” Minato’s jaw dropped. Did Hiruzen just say…

“Congratulations Minato. Your firm has been chosen to build our newest tower. My office will send over the details in the next couple of days.” 

“Tha…” He had to cough to clear his voice. “Thank you sir. I look forward to working with you.” Minato sat back as he hung up the phone. His mind was still processing what just happened. When he looked up he saw his staff looking at him. He got up slowly from his desk and walked out to talk to them. 

Kakashi and Obito stopped fooling around. Rin had gone back to her own job after visiting Obito for lunch. He took in the faces of his staff. 

“I’m sure you all would like to know what that call was about. As you probably heard, that was Hiruzen Sarutobi who just called. He wanted to inform us…” Minato paused wanting to build the dramatic effect. “He wanted to tell us we got the job! We will be building their newest bank tower.” Cheers soon erupted. Obito looked like he was about to have a heart attack. 

“We need to celebrate. What do you think boss, how about Friday?” Obito was bouncing up and down. Minato thought about the idea. His staff deserved to celebrate the news. 

“That sounds good. I’ll see if one of Choza’s restaurants could cater for us. Obito, I expect Rin to be there. Kakashi try not to be too late.” Minato went to walk away when he heard Obito speak. 

“Come on Kakashi you have to bring the woman you have been seeing. Rin and I are dying to meet her. “ Wait Kakashi was seeing someone! How did he not know about this? Minato turned around and Kakashi was sending texts to someone. As Minato walked around his staff letting them know about the party he soon heard Kakashi’s phone ring. Minato didn’t care to listen to the conversation, but wondered who this mystery woman could be. 

___________________________

Sakura walked into the office Monday morning more refreshed than she had been in months. She felt so energized that she went for a run this morning. Usually she waited till evening to run, but with the endorphins released this morning she needed to switch to morning. Seeing that her schedule was fully booked didn’t even bother her. Bring on all of the antibiotics seeking parents for their child’s viral infection and teenage girls with abdominal pain. 

It seemed like time flew because the next thing Sakura knew  she was seeing her last patient. As she walked back to her office she saw she had messages from Kakashi. His last message said to give him a call when she could. She wondered what he wanted to talk about. Sakura prepared herself for ‘the talk’ as she called him. 

“Hey Kakashi. It’s Sakura.” She was slightly surprised when she heard his voice having an excitement in it she never heard before. 

“Sakura thanks for getting back to me. I was wanting to know what your plans are for Friday night.” That was not the question she was expecting. 

“I don’t have any at the moment.” Before she could continue Kakashi cut in. 

“How would you feel about coming to a work party with me on Friday. The firm I work with just got this big job and the boss wants to celebrate. I was wanting to bring you with me.” Sakura’s heart warmed at him wanting her to come with him. 

“I would love to go with you. Let me know the time and if yo…”

“Great I will pick you up at 8.” Sakura could hear people celebrating in the background. 

“I’ll see you then.” Sakura sighed as she hung up the phone. Mei happened to be walking by as she sighed. 

“What’s with the heavy sigh?” Sakura looked at her coworker. She was drop dead gorgeous, long reddish brown hair and green eyes. Sakra couldn’t understand how she was still single. 

“Oh I’m just debating how late my date will be picking me up Friday night.” Sakura thought she would play it safe and plan for him to be 30 minutes late. 

“I would kill for a guy to be late, it would give me more time to get ready. I’m never ready in time. Do you want me to cover your call shift that night? I think it would be fair since you covered for me a month or so ago.” Sakura forgot she was supposed to be on call. She was thrilled that Mei offered to take the shift without being asked. 

“That would be amazing.” Now all Sakura had to do was figure out what to wear. Mei bid her a good night as they both headed out. 

___________________________

Sakura stared at herself in the mirror. It was currently 820 and Kakashi wasn’t here yet. She had just finished her hair and makeup. After talking with Ino she decided to do a side french braid in her hair and then gathered the rest into a ponytail. She kept her makeup in neutral tones, but used her shimmery eyeshadow palette, giving her a grey smokey eye. It was now time to put on her dress. 

She had gone with Ino yesterday after work to pick out something. Sakura wasn’t fully sure about the dress code for this event, so wanted something that could be dressy or more casual if needed. They had found a deep red off the shoulder fit n flare dress. She was going to pair it with her silver wedges. She wasn’t going to wear a necklace, but decided on drop earrings that were silver tear drops. Just as Sakura was putting on her heels her doorbell rang. 

“Ready to go?” Kakashi looked amazing in his simple black dress slacks and white dress shirt. At least her outfit went with his. Sakura didn’t even care to bring up the fact that he was late, again. 

“Yep, all ready.” 

Soon they were entering his office building and Sakura was blown away by the lobby. Arched ceilings with metal beams. There were skylights allowing for natural light to come in. They took the elevator up to the 15 floor. As they got closer Sakura could hear that the party was in full swing. 

“My friends are looking forward to meeting you.” Kakashi had looped his arm through hers. 

“I’m looking forward to meeting them as well.” Kakashi and Sakura entered the party. There were trays of food being walked around by some waiters. She could also see a buffet set up along the windows. Kakashi navigated her around the party. He was looking for two of his closest friends. 

“Kakashi! You showed up and only 45 minutes late.” A man with black hair and eyes was talking, the first thing she noticed were his kind eyes and smile. He was about as tall as Kakashi.

“Oh is this Sakura?” Kakashi untwined their arms and placed his hand on her back. 

“Yes, this is Sakura. Sakura this is Obito.” Sakura paused, that was the name Minato mentioned. It then clicked in her brain. The two who were watching Naruto were also Kakashi’s best friends. That’s why the names were so familiar. 

“Nice to meet you.” Obito’s grin was from ear to ear. Soon another person joined them. She had medium brown hair in a long bob and hazel eyes. The woman gave Obito a peck on the cheek. Sakura found Obito’s blush endearing. 

“You must be Rin. I’m Sakura. It’s nice to meet you.” Rin seemed shocked that Sakura knew her name, but was soon shaking her hand vigorously. 

“Oh it’s so good to meet you.” Soon the four were making the rounds at the party. Sakura enjoyed talking with Rin. They found out they had a lot in common with Rin working as a psychologist and Sakura a pediatrician. It was watching Obito and Rin interact that made Sakura realize she saw Kakashi more as a friend than anything else. 

“Hey Kakashi has the boss man meet Sakura yet?” The moment Kakashi shook his head no Obito was leading them to another area of the room. Sakura froze when she saw him. Kakashi’s boss was Naruto’s father. 

“Hey Minato. Kakashi showed up and he brought a date.” Minato looked over to the group. The moment Sakura entered the party Minato saw her. She looked breathtaking in her dress. That familiar feeling in his stomach returned. He could feel his heart beat faster. However, it was like a bucket of cold water was thrown on him when he saw she was with Kakashi. He tried to ignore the two as they walked around the party. Sakura attracted the attention of many of the staff and other attendants. One reason was that she came with Kakashi. The other was everyone was taken by her looks. It was not everyday a person with candy hair and dazzling emeralds for eyes came into the office. 

As those eyes focused on him everything else faded away. Sakura then opened her mouth. “Mr. Namikaze it's good to see you again.” Sakura was conflicted on how to address Minato. She thought the best course of action would be to take the professional approach. 

“Wait, do you two know each other.” It was Kakashi who actually decided to speak. He looked perplexed. 

“Dr. Haruno is Naruto’s pediatrician.” Rin looked giddy beside Obito. 

“Congratulations on the new job.” Sakura wasn’t sure what to do. She could feel all eyes on her and it was making her have a slight freak out. Soon Rin was telling stories of babysitting Naruto, which Sakura smiled at. They were then going to the buffet table and sat down to talk. Obito was part of the Uchiha family and decided to go into design over the police force. Sakura then got into a story of how she knew Shisui from childhood. Minato was friends with Fugaku and Mikoto, who had recently given birth to her second son. Itachi was an adorable eight year old who she had only seen a couple of times. 

Sakura found herself needing some fresh air, which meant she would have to go down to the lobby. 

“Kakashi I need some fresh air. I’m going to head downstairs for a little bit and I’ll be back up.” As she went to stand up Kakashi stopped her. 

“We have a balcony we use at times. Let me show it to you. That way we don’t have to go all the way downstairs.” They two excused themselves. The balcony had a stunning view of the city and the crisp air was like a welcoming hug after being in a room with so many people. Kakashi just stood beside her. 

“Kakashi, I have been thinking about what we are and…” She had to pause. Sakura wasn’t sure if this was the best time to bring it up, but she feared she would lose her nerve later. 

“I have enjoyed spending time with you, but I feel like we would work better as friends.” Sakura rushed the part after the but. She could feel herself internally wince, hating how cliche she just sounded. However, she was speaking the truth about being friends with him, especially after meeting Obito and Rin. He seemed to let out a sigh...of relief. 

“I have enjoyed spending time with you as well, but am glad I am not the only one who thinks we would work better as friends.” Sakura couldn’t contain herself as she hugged Kakashi. His chuckle sounded deep from his chest. She felt him place a soft kiss on the crown of her head. They went back to the party both feeling lighter. 

“By the way I have someone who I think you would really like. She is a coworker of mine.” 

____________________

Minato watched as they walked away. The feeling of jealousy was nothing like how he felt when Sakura just paid attention to Naruto. Minato could understand that. This however. This was something different. He didn’t know much about Sakura, but enjoyed being around her. Aside from Obito, Rin, Kakashi, and Naruto she was a welcome relief to the darkness that surrounded him so often recently. 

So Minato followed them, discreetly of course. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but saw their embrace. His heart felt heavy. Then he had to turn away when Kakashi kissed her head. Minato went back to the table to sit back down. He watched as Rin happily ate her dessert. 

“Do you think your friend would still want to go for that date?” Minato had to move on, one baby step at a time.