#its okay though. peace n love on planet earth

[raedas]

top 5 tv shows :)

amphibia

the owl house

julie and the phantoms

carmen sandiego

the ghost and molly mcgee

[inmyfxith]

A Tale of Two Worlds - Part. II

Pairing: Jake Sully x f!reader

A/N: I voluntarily changed the plot of the movie Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness.

Warnings: NSFW / Soft Smut (My mind tells me that in real life it's okay but when in doubt I put it on anyway! Btw this is the first time I'm writing a scene like this…🫣)

Words: 3k5

-> Requested

Part. I

After the war, the skies of Pandora cleared and the planet was at peace once more. The sky people were forced to depart, yet not all had to leave. Jake, in his wisdom, permitted a select few scientists, who were respectful of the ecosystem, to remain and continue their research. Among them was Spider, a young boy, whose parents had fallen in the final battle. Due to the dangers of cryonics, he could not be sent back to Earth and thus, grew up on Pandora, learning to live as the Na'vi did.

Despite initial reservations, the Omaticaya gradually came to accept the presence of a witch among them. They sought your counsel on various matters, yet often disregarded your advice. Each day, gifted by Eywa, was spent in the company of a towering, stubborn Na'vi. Despite your pleas for him to return to his human form, Jake had chosen to reside in his avatar, becoming Toruk Makto, rider of the last shadow, chosen by Eywa herself. Your meditations allowed you to connect to the collective consciousness, yet something felt amiss, an inexplicable yearning in your heart. You couldn't have been happier, yet the feeling of incompleteness lingered.

As the warm afternoon sun cast its rays upon the forest, you sat under the boughs of the Voice Tree, practicing your magic. The gentle laughter of a child caught your ear, and you rose to investigate the source. There, you stumbled upon a sight that took your breath away - Jake, perched upon a mossy rock, carefully whittling away at a branch with his knife, as Spider frolicked around him, laughter spilling from his lips.

You stood there, entranced, your heart overflowing with love as you watched the two of them. Spider approached Jake, a bouquet of radiant wildflowers clutched in his small hands.

"Look, Dad!" he exclaimed, his eyes alight with joy. Jake's face softened, a tender smile gracing his features as he took the flowers, ruffling Spider's hair affectionately.

"These are beautiful, thank you Spider," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy's head.

The scene was at once heart-wrenching and heartwarming, as memories of the countless times you had held the little boy in your arms flooded your mind. Though he was not your biological child, you loved him as if he were your own flesh and blood. And yet, you could see the same love mirrored in Jake's eyes.

As tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, you retreated, your heart heavy with longing. Kneeling at the base of the Tree of Voices, you implored Eywa to grant you the ability to become a Na'vi for just one day, to love Jake freely, without reservation. But the wind blew through the tree, and your prayers seemed to dissipate in its wake.

Beneath a sky bursting with stars, you and Jake lay entwined in the lush grass. The gentle caress of his hand running through your hair, lulling you into a sense of peaceful contentment. As the silence stretched between you, you turned to him, a solemn expression etched upon your face. "Jake, there's something I wanted to talk to you about," you said. "It's about our future." Sensing the seriousness of your words, he looked at you, pulling away slightly so he could catch every expression you were about to present to him.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

"I know we've been together for a long time now, and I love you more than anything," you replied. "But I thought, maybe you'd like to start a family. Do you want kids?" You could feel the weight of your question settling between you, could see the longing in his eyes, the way his heart leaped at the thought of raising blue-skinned children and sharing the beauty of Pandora with them. But he also knew the harsh reality, that as humans, the possibility of having children of your own was not meant to be.

"I have thought of it," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But my heart is already full with the love I have for Spider, he is like a son to me, and I could not ask for a more precious addition to our family." He looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart, his gaze full of understanding for the longing you felt. "I know. And I love him, too. But I can't help but feel like I'm missing something. Like there's a part of our future that we can't have."

"I understand," he said, taking your hand in his, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you. "We have each other, and that's all that matters. And we have Spider. He's our family, and that's more than enough for me." You smiled, your heart overflowing with the love you held for him, and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek. The stars above twinkled in the sky, as if in agreement, as you lay in each other's arms, content with the love you had.

As you drifted off to sleep, your mind wandered to the possibility of shape-shifting magic. Though you had resigned as Earth's guardian wizard, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was still so much to learn. And so, under the pretext of settling business, you returned to Earth and sought out the former supreme wizard, Doctor Strange.

Upon emerging from the portal, you were met with a sight of chaos. The streets of New York City were in turmoil, as an unseen creature wreaked havoc upon the city. Cars overturned, buildings crumbled, and screams echoed through the streets. But, just as you were about to conjure magic circles to defend yourself, Strange appeared like a beacon of hope, his sorcerer's garb adorned upon his frame. With fluid grace, he erected protective shields and summoned giant hands of magic to battle the creature. You couldn't help but feel a swell of admiration for your former master as he fearlessly defended the innocent. You joined him in the fray, your magics intertwining as you fought side by side. He sliced through the creature's tentacles with precision, while you levitated debris to hurl at the beast. The creature was revealed to be a one-eyed, tentacled monstrosity from another dimension, known as Gargantos.

The battle was fierce, and at times you found yourself thrown back by the creature's might. But Strange was relentless, and together you emerged victorious. The city was saved, and the creature lay defeated at your feet. As you approached him, Strange praised your bravery, but you had come with a purpose. You asked him about shape-shifting magic, and he warned you of the dangers and the high cost of such magic.

Disappointed with the trip, disappointed with his answer, you waited some time before returning to Pandora. No one was stronger than Strange, or at least you had never known anyone more powerful than him. As the days passed and your journey through the multiverse neared its end, your thoughts turned towards home. The memories of familiar faces and places, a comfort in the chaos of the unknown. Just as you were about to take your leave, a portal opened, and out stepped Wong, his face etched with concern.

"Your assistance is needed once more, come with me.”

You stood amidst the ancient halls of Kamar-Taj, the mystic arts pulsing around you, Doctor Strange and America Chavez by your side, a sense of wonder and trepidation gripped your heart. Strange's words, heavy with urgency, rang in your ears, "Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, seeks to take America's powers for her own."

Just as he finished speaking, the cacophony of chaos magic erupted, Wanda's relentless assault battering against the protective shields of the courtyard. Strange's commanded echoes through the halls, "Fall back, we cannot stand against her." The shields began to falter, the cracks deepening with each impact, and with a final burst, Wanda broke through.

As the Scarlet Witch closed in on America, ready to siphon her powers, an unwitting act by Chavez opened a portal to the multiverse, a tempestuous wind whipping around you, pulling you all into its swirling depths. You hurtled through the void, an infinity of realities flash before your eyes, each one a kaleidoscope of possibility and peril. Your senses reel, weightless and disoriented, unsure of how long this journey will last. And then, suddenly, you landed in a reality unlike any you've ever known. You turned to Strange and Chavez, both mirroring the same look of amazement on their faces. Strange's voice, tinged with awe, spoke, "We have landed in one of the infinite realities that make up the multiverse."

You traversed the endless expanse of the multiverse and found yourself in an alternate New York with Strange and Chavez, desperately seeking a way out of a battle that was not meant for you. On Earth-838, you were brought before the Illuminati, a powerful coalition of individuals once united by the Stephen Strange of that world to safeguard their universe from the most dire of threats, such as incursions and powerful beings. With the other members engaged in battle against the Scarlet Witch, you turned to Professor X, in hopes of finding a solution. He greeted you with a sober expression, as you cleared your throat and posed your question, "Professor, is there a way for me to change myself, to transform myself?"

His eyes met yours, the weight of his knowledge and experience etched upon his face. "It is impossible, my friend," he said solemnly. "The power to change one's shape, to alter one's form, it requires immense magic, magic that is often dark and corrupting."

You nodded, understanding dawning upon you. "I see, so there is no other way."

Professor X shook his head, "No, there is no other way. The path of true transformation is one that is fraught with danger, it is a path that leads to the abyss. It is a path that only the bravest, or the most foolish, would dare to tread."

With a sense of purpose and determination, you stepped away from the sanctuary of Professor X's presence, towards the battleground where the Illuminati had locked horns with the powerful Wanda.

As the dust settled and the destruction caused by Wanda's attack came to an end, you stood with your hands raised, surveying the scene before you. The members of the Illuminati lay dead at your feet, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. Wanda had once been a friend, and to see her now as the enemy was a difficult pill to swallow.

Wanda's eyes met yours, and you spoke in a voice that was near to the pleading. "You were once my friend," you began "I know you understand my pain. I just want to be able to procreate, to have a family of my own. But my powers, my past as a hero, they make that impossible. I can't see myself as a mother, not with the threat that I pose to my family."

Wanda's expression softened, and with a wave of her hand, a thick crimson smoke enveloped your mind. The images that followed were of yourself, surrounded by children, your children, with Jake by your side, living a happy life in a different reality, one where you were able to overcome the limitations of your powers and be the mother you had always dreamed of being.

Amidst the vibrant hues of Pandora's verdant landscape, you and your love, Jake, sat entwined in a serene embrace, surrounded by your little tribe of blue-skinned offspring. As you gazed upon their playful gallopings and heard their melodic laughter, your heart swelled with boundless contentment and joy. A lifelong dream fulfilled, you now basked in the warmth of familial love, with Jake by your side, and a clan of your own.

With a smile that lit up his rugged features, Jake clasped your hand, his grip a testament to the boundless fortune that was yours. "It is beyond belief," he murmured, "how blessed we are, to have found one another, to have stumbled upon this paradise, and to have formed a family in this magical realm."

You nestled your head against his shoulder, your spirit overflowing with gratitude and happiness. "Indeed, my love," you whispered. "It seems as though every step of my journey led to this very moment. To be here, with you and our children, is all I could ever desire."

As the little ones scampered towards you, their wide eyes and toothy grins evoking peals of laughter, you couldn't help but feel a sense of proud adoration. Though they may be a handful, your heart swelled with love for each and every one of them. Scooping them up in your arms, you tickled them playfully, relishing in the symphony of their giggles and the sensation of their tiny bodies pressed against yours.

The weight of Wanda's manipulation heavy on your heart, you were torn between empathy and conviction. The longing for a family, the desire for something more, it all warred within you, clashing with the destruction and death that Wanda had wrought. But, as her anger and frustration burned in her eyes, you knew in your heart that you could not give in to her manipulation. You could not let her use your own vulnerabilities against you. With a steady voice, you spoke, "I am sorry, Wanda. I cannot let this continue. The destruction and loss of life caused by your actions is too great. I cannot stand idly by."

And with a final flare of chaotic magic, Wanda disappeared, leaving you alone amongst the rubble, the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders, uncertain of what the future may hold.

The chaos magic swirled around you, but you stood firm by America and Wong, determined to put an end to Wanda Maximoff's quest for power. In the heat of battle, you watched in awe and fear as the two powerful men battled it out, their powers illuminating the darkness.

But when Maximoff's hold on the Darkhold began to waver, you stepped forward, your voice resolute. "Alone, she may be too powerful for you, but together we can stop her."

With your combined strength, you and an undead Strange fought Maximoff until she was finally brought to Earth-838, where the true horrors of the Darkhold were revealed to her. Seeing the fear in the eyes of her alter ego's children, Tommy and Billy, Maximoff's heart broke and she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. In that moment, she realized the true weight of her actions and knew that the Darkhold must never again fall into the wrong hands. With a determined look in her eye, Wanda turned to Chavez and said, "I will not destroy the Darkhold. But I will give it to someone who can use it for good." And with that, she handed the ancient book to you.

You held the Darkhold in your hands, feeling the weight of responsibility and the promise of power. With this ancient tome, you knew you could shape your own destiny and create the family you had always aspired to. As you left the ruins of Darkhold Castle, quickly passing through a portal to Pandora, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Wanda. For in the moment of her greatest regret, she had given you the greatest gift of all: the chance to live the life you had always dreamed of.

Wrapped in a canopy of vibrant emerald leaves, you stepped through the Pandora forest, your new form awakening your senses to a world of undiscovered smells and unheard melodies. Your desire to surprise Jake with your transformed beauty was stronger than ever as you sought him out. He was leaning against a trunk, his eyes closed, his dark locks swaying gently in the breeze. You couldn't help but smile, your heart fluttering with love.

You moved closer, lightly brushing your long, bluish fingers over his arm. Startled, Jake sprang to his feet, his hunting knife in his hand, confusion written all over his face. But as soon as his gaze met yours, his eyes widened with amazement.

"Oh my god," he said in a whisper. "It's you."

His admiration of your new appearance was palpable as he ran his hand over your bluish skin and bright eyes. "How did you do that?" he asked, mesmerized. You simply grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and shrugged, claiming it was all a bit of magic.

The desire to be closer to him was overwhelming. The embrace was a thing of beauty, a desire to be as close as one could be. You nestled into his chest, feeling his heart beating in perfect harmony with yours. His gentle fingertips danced around your body, exploring your curves with delicate caresses. Your breath quickened as his touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

Lifting his hand, you guided it to your waist, then pulled him closer and kissed him with all the tenderness in your heart. Never had you felt such rapture, and the sensations were dizzying. With a gentle rhythm, he moved his hips against you, pushing you ever closer to the precipice of ecstasy. Your eyes closed as a cry of pleasure escaped your lips, and he moved faster, driving you to the peak of pleasure. You cried out his name as you shivered with joy, quivering in delight.

The intensity of the moment was almost too much to bear, and you felt as if you were soaring on a cloud of pure bliss. As your bodies slowly calmed, Jake pulled you closer to him, brushing his lips against yours in a deep, savoring kiss. You lay there, entwined in each other's arms, until sleep took you away.

As you sat on the lush, green grass of Pandora, surrounded by your two young sons, Neteyam and Lo'ak, and Spider you couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming love and joy. You and Jake had always wanted a family, and now, here you were, with two beautiful children of your own.

But as you looked at your hands, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Your fingers had begun to turn black, a side effect of the dark magic you had used from the Darkhold. You had been using it to protect your family, but now you couldn't stop the corrupted thoughts from creeping in. The world of Pandora, which had once been so beautiful and peaceful, now seemed like a dangerous place, filled with threats to your children. You started to use your powers to destroy the plants and animals that you believed were a danger to Neteyam and Lo'ak. Jake tried to stop you, but you couldn't see the harm you were causing. You couldn't see that the Pandora you knew was disappearing right before your eyes.

Your mind became more and more consumed by the dark magic. You couldn't see that you were the one causing the destruction, that you were the one endangering your family and the planet they called home. The darkness took over, and it was too late to stop it.

Jake and the Omaticaya clan tried to intervene, but you were too far gone. The once idyllic world of Pandora was left in ruins, and your family was left to pick up the pieces of a life that was destroyed by the power of the Darkhold.

A portal of mystic energy opened, and out stepped the former Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange. His eyes surveyed the ruin that was once the beauty of Pandora, his demeanor resolute.

"I have come for the Darkhold," he declared, his voice a force of conviction. Your heart raced as you heard his words, for the Darkhold was the only thing that had kept you and your family safe from the dangers that lurked in your mind. You couldn't let him take it away.

"No," you spoke, standing tall in defiance. "I need it to shield my loved ones."

But Strange was not swayed by your plea. "The Darkhold is a dangerous artifact, it must be destroyed," he replied. You felt a sense of hopelessness wash over you, for you could not let the former Sorcerer Supreme take the ancient book, the only thing that protected your family. As you stood there, locked in a battle of wills, the fate of the Darkhold, and your family's safety hung in the balance. A battle between protecting your family and preventing more significant harm to reality itself.

Tag -> @oyasumimosura

[speedystarshine]

If I may, can I request how the different Matpat egos would react to the winged player (yn) picking them up and flying with them? (Bonus points if it’s out of nowhere and they don’t see it coming) I’m absolutely LOVING this blog!!

ofc, and ty for the kind words! I just used the same characters that I did in the 30 post :P

Characters: Matpat, Madpat, Mack (Crewmate/Engineer/Dictator), The Detective, The Hermit, Warfpat.

Matpat

screaming, crying, pissing his pants, calling his mommy,

No but don't he will actually throw up the second you reach the ground

He swears he hates you so much for that especially since it's highly likely that he was like hitting your chest to get you to put him down and then suddenly you're 10,0000 feet in the air and be like "yeah sure okay :D"

Demands you carry him half because he's petty and half because his legs are shaking so bad 😭

Bro had coffee too like. He loves you but his coffee man c'mon not cool :(

Demands hugs and kisses and literally anything that'll stop him feeling nauseous he's such a baby 🙄

Probably threatens to clip your wings but you know he's too pussy to actually do it/hj

Madpat

You made him drop his chainthrower :( 

(yes he calls it that he told me himself and also you owe him a new one and also here’s the marriage papers before you can process-)

Screams for like half a second and then just sits there like :T he’s processing okay- 

Honestly, he just clings to you like a koala, let him have his internal mental breakdown in peace 😭

You finally put him down and he doesn’t let go-

He comes back half an hour later looking as if he’s been crying and asks you to take him again so he can have his quirky y/n wattpad moment 

give him a hug bro just wants to look cool in front of you okay let him have that   :(( you don’t, and give him hugs instead :)) *cue mat standing outside the door like HUH?!?!? 😡😡🤡🥺😭*

He does genuinely find it fun, (and is slightly scared at the fact you can just fly up with him like he weighs nothing) but he will also cry-

he’s trying :(

Mack (Crewmate)

in space? :0 (I’m joking this is probably either on Earth or when y’all get to the new planet)

do. do you want to be single?/j

but seriously- his reaction would be similar to mat’s except its just non stop screaming the whole time :(

and then extra :( because when you two get down he won’t talk to you and just kinda follow you around with the 🥺 expression on his face. 

He needs hugs and ice cream and distractions asap right away bc he genuinely thought this was a murder attempt or sum (it wasn’t, but he doesn’t know that!! :dd)

Mark would laugh but he honestly just feels sorry for him because of the puppy eyes- 

probably drags him to you to make you apologize (Even tho you probably have 10000 times the second he started crying) He’ll talk to you again dw he just found it funny how you were so panicked at his reaction >:) manipulative shit-

Mack (Engineer)

“Captain? What are you HOLY FUCKINGSHITWHATTEHFU”

Kinda just freaks out and laughs nervously the whole time while tucking his face into your chest

the second you land, he is so pale. Like damn bro you need a minute-

in the most monotone voice ever, excuses himself to the bathroom, where the distant sounds of throwing up, sobbing, fanboying?? and other stages of grief can be heard 

he finds it hot 😭

Marks thinks its the funniest shit ever like full on kidney collapse knee slaps, table slams- Yeah he’s not ever letting Mack forget it even tho it was your fault

Don’t worry though, Mack will still hug you and hang out with you and stuff but he’s always tense as if your gonna swoop off again

he even starts bragging to the others as if he wasn’t a millisecond away from pissing his pants and praying

relaxes eventually tho :D kinda holds a grudge against you, but jesus just-

warn him next time if you want to do it again 

Mack (Dictator)

Haha what wings?

What freedom of limbs to be able to swoop in the first place?/j

no but you might actually want to start running after you pull a stunt like that, bro’s gonna pull fucking operation: hunt the bird 😭

his reaction is kinda funny but also not? 

lets out a yelp, and demands you put him down but in this very startled squealing tone- 

after he gets used to it glares at you with an ‘unamused’ expression but you’re so close to him that you can see this man is 👌 close away from crying

just kinda stands there and processes when you put him down and then immediately chases after you

he has a gun so you might want to be good at dodging mid air-

yeah you’re definitely in big BIG trouble afterwards but in your opinion it was totally worth it (unless that’s not the first time or prank you’ve pulled and he decides to clip your wings :((()

tbh the thing he’s most embarrassed about is the fact that there were people around to witness

calls the firing squad on those that tease him about it because haha funky dictator man >:D

The Detective

why? literally just why would you do this to him 

you will be paying for his therapy/j

he finds it really fun but would prefer if he doesn’t have that falling feeling in his stomach

or in his entire body. like at all

his glasses fall off halfway through. you will also be paying for-

he’s so polite about it too although his voice definitely breaks a lot 😭

you get halfway up and he goes “yeah uM y/n this is reAlly nice and all bUt can you put me dOwnokaynevermindholyshitfuckcuntbitchmotherfu” 

he just clings to you afterwards with an awkward smile like “hi <:)?” yeah he’s not letting go bestie you can say buh bye to privacy after that <3

he doesn’t throw up bc he’s a girlboss but definitely feels queasy after which is half of the reason why he’s still clinging to you

probably wouldn’t get it, but if he felt confident enough sometime later would ask if you can take him up again :)

and immediately regrets it- he finds it cool that you can fly though, even if he doesn’t prefer it!

tbh he just wants to see the sky and shit with you because he’s a dork and a simp and we love him 😌

The Hermit

are you sure. are you ABSOLUTELY sure that you would want to pull that shit with this man.

you ever hear the phrase “they’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid”?

i mean- okay. yeah sure. say you did

I feel like he’d be ready because the second he feels you about to prepare he just kinda instantly knows what’s gonna happen

ik his character is sketchy as hell and he keeps making it seem like he’s gonna kill you but bestie if you do pull this off you might figure out pretty soon where he gets all that food from

it’d definitely be different if you were his s/o, but just because you’re safe doesn’t mean you’re wings are! :D 

yeah but no he’s not having it why would you even do this

honestly the only scenario this happens and you don’t die or lose limbs is if you ask him first and makes sure he wants to because otherwise you’re next honestly 😭

absolute suicide mission and his reaction isn’t even fun he just gives you that polite strained adult smile while staring into your soul-

Warfpat

*sighs* its funny because I think this is the same way I started out the intro on the other post-

but yeah, crazy man would love it, you know he would. Probably giggles and shit as if he’s not suspended 20,00000 feat in the air being carried by a person who is shorter than him and theoretically shouldn’t even be able to carry him

because he can warp reality, I think he’d use that power to ‘spice things up’ with your little trip

and by that I mean you’ll endlessly be doing the loop the loop because he keeps flipping the sky upside down and noclipping you EVERYWHERE

bro the tables have turned because the second you land he’s clapping and wanting to go again and y/n is the one throwing up and shit-

he actually unironically finds it cute and its like a 50/50 on whether his exaggerated swooning is sarcastic or not

you drop him halfway up whether on purpose or just because you feel like being a dick and he teleports your ass with him 😭

wants to give you kisses mid-air because he would meanwhile you’re too focused on not crash landing into either his studio or the Ego mansion

There you go, sorry they took so long to do, I was knocked out cold today! :P

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Contact Comfort

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: None, really? Emotional hurt/comfort and sorta like a touch starved deal doing on, but it’s pretty thoroughly fluffy and sugary-sweet. 

A/N: For the “bed sharing” square on my @cmbingo​ card! 

Title is from the referenced psych study, because I’m a dork. 

“One sec,” you call, wincing at how thick and nasal your voice sounds.

You wipe your cheeks hastily as you sit up. It’ll be obvious anyway, though; wouldn’t take a profiler to notice your tear tracks and blotchy face. 

It’s Spencer. Of course it is — because he’s the last person you want to see you like this, when you’re all snotty and puffy and gross. 

His eyes go wide and solemn when he sees your face, genuinely distressed. There’s that empathy again, the too-big heart that everyone seems to overlook in favor of his big brain. You love him for it. 

Well, you love him for a lot of things. 

“Hi,” he says quietly. “I was going to just ask if you were okay, but… I guess I don’t actually need to ask now.” 

You let out a watery little chuckle. “Guess not.” 

“You want some company?” He looks hopeful, almost, and then seems to catch himself, dropping his gaze with a shrug. “I understand if you just want your space, though.” 

If it was anyone else, you absolutely would not want company right now. But it’s Spencer, so. You pretty much always want him around. 

“I was just about to turn on some shitty TV because it felt too quiet in here, honestly. Company would be really nice.” 

He gives you a quick twitch of a half-smile as he steps past you, and after you close the door, there’s a pause where you both stand there and look at each other, Spencer suddenly shy as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, in a thin unhappy voice. 

“Not really. Just… one of those days. One of those cases.” 

“Can I do anything to help?”  

You hesitate, because it seems like such an immature thing to say out loud, but you’re too tired to be anything other than honest.

“I could use a hug.”  

Spencer’s expression goes all soft and sweet, and your cheeks feel hot under the drying salt water as he steps closer. He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his chest and try to inhale. Your exhale is a ragged little shudder, and you fist both hands in the back of Spencer’s cardigan as you cling to him, feeling raw and sensitive and so very young. 

He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of his own, squeezing you tighter. 

How long has it been since anybody hugged you like this? It’s like the contact — the warmth of him — the pressure of his arms around your shoulders — the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek — is lifting some massive weight you never realized you were carrying. All you want in the entire world is to hold him tight, take the comfort while you can, but you know you should pull away. 

He hesitates for a second before releasing you, like maybe he doesn’t want to let go either. 

Then he’s stepping back, hands in his pockets, slightly pink-cheeked as he bounces on the balls of his feet and gives you one of his frog-faced not-quite-smiles. 

“You said something about shitty television?” he asks. “Or maybe we could watch some television that’s not actually shitty?” 

“That sounds perfect.”

Turns out Planet Earth is on, which is the rare overlap in your and Spencer’s tastes, and it’s not until you’re eagerly toeing off your shoes that you realize the bed is the only seating option. 

Spencer sits cross-legged, with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists, and he stays as close to the edge of the bed as physically possible. You lean back against the headboard and hug your knees to your chest, feeling the need to hunch over, like you could physically protect your heart. 

Then again, it’s much too late for that. You knew your heart was in trouble the moment you met Spencer. 

Today, especially, you already feel vulnerable, like all your carefully-constructed walls cracked open the second you let yourself cry, and now you’re just ripped-open and bare. You need a good night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before you’ll be able to go about your life as a professional, fully-functional, grown-up human again. Right now you’re just kind of a mess.  

“I know there’s the germ thing,” you blurt out, without looking at Spencer. “But —” 

His laugh sounds crackly and nervous, but relieved, like maybe he’d been holding his breath. “Come here.” 

You give him a grateful smile as you scoot closer to each other, and apparently you’d been so worried about your own swollen eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed the fatigue evident in every drawn, wan line of his face. 

Not that he isn’t still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

You duck tentatively under Spencer’s arm, and it’s not like you’re cuddling, exactly, because there’s still an inch or so of space between your hips and legs… but the bony plane of his chest, between collarbone and heart, makes a surprisingly perfect pillow. You pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, tucking them under your chin, curling up.

The moment feels delicate, like a soap bubble that you could burst if you simply breathe too loudly, and you hold yourself stiffly, at first, not wanting to move any closer for fear of pushing a boundary. It feels like you’re glowing at the points where your bodies are touching; the warm weight of his arm feels like bright spring sunshine across your upper back. His palm on the round of your shoulder is thawing away the last chilly bits of your self-consciousness. 

When the commercial break starts, Spencer says, “Do you ever think about how little physical contact the average single adult experiences on a regular basis?” His voice is quiet and almost sheepish. 

You smile. “Yeah, I’ve considered it.” 

“Especially when we live away from our families,” Spencer says wistfully. 

You can feel the vibration of his words in his chest. You shift, making yourself more comfortable, feeling dazed and dumb with his proximity.

“The monkeys. I feel like — you know?” 

“Harlow. I know exactly what you mean.”

Trust him to get that from your ridiculously vague mumbling.  

“Except they’re babies,” you add. 

“The emotional benefits of physical touch don’t decrease just because we get older,” he says softly. “It’s just that the fear of judgement makes it difficult to be honest.”

There’s silence for a minute as the show starts again, and David Attenborough says something about sloths. Spencer’s thumb strokes your shoulder gently, back and forth, soothing. It’s hypnotic, and the tension drains from your muscles, leaving you more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

You swallow hard. “For what?” 

“Being honest.” 

There’s no reason for your eyes to be stinging like this, but they are. “I should be thanking you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. This is… really nice.” 

“Yeah. It really is.” 

He’s quiet again. 

Spencer smells like vanilla and old books — although the latter might just be your imagination, something to do with the power of mental association — Spencer could probably explain the science behind that. Your brain has them inextricably linked, though. You’ve caught hints of that smell before, but never up close like this. 

The softness of the worn knit of his cardigan makes you want to rub your cheek against it like a cat. His arm, skinny as it may be, feels like protection — like you’re safe here. 

After the brutal violence of the case and the emotional turbulence of the day, this quiet, golden moment is even more breathtakingly peaceful by contrast. It doesn’t feel real. 

It’s too good to last. This isn’t yours. It’s not going to last, no matter how right it feels, and your chest already aches with the idea of letting him go.    

You try to appreciate it while you can, to remember every sensation, but your body is leaden, exhausted down to the bone, completely drained of whatever adrenaline-stubbornness-caffeine combination was keeping you running until now. Spencer’s thumb rubs invisible circles on your shoulder, and he breathes evenly, and you feel safe. 

You’re asleep before the next commercial break. 

A distant car alarm wakes you, sometime later. In the handful of seconds before it’s turned off, you come to without opening your eyes, trying to remember where you are and who you’re with. The smell of vanilla makes you relax instinctively, before you can process why. 

Spencer has all but melted against you in his sleep, soft and boneless. He’s got both arms around you now, holding you close, his breath tickling your forehead. Then he stirs, and you can feel the moment he realizes where he is, because his muscles go tense as he freezes. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely. He’s barely audible over the infomercial voices coming from the TV. “I didn’t mean to — sorry. I’ll go.” 

And before you can think better of it, you whisper, “Don’t.” 

He’s still frozen, and silent for a second that feels like an eternity. “You mean —”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay.” 

Honesty seems to be your default setting tonight, and anyway, you can tell without looking at a clock that it’s long past midnight, well into the early-morning hours where boundaries and reservations and reality don’t seem to follow their usual laws. You can’t lie to him (or to yourself) right now. 

Spencer’s voice cracks as he says, “Okay. I’ll just — let me get the light.”

You don’t open your eyes as he slips away. This all seems like a dream, and the sharp bright lamp light might make it dissolve around you. You might wake up. 

The TV goes quiet, and when you tug at the hotel comforter, sliding between cool sheets fully clothed, the barely-there rasp of moving fabric sounds loud in its absence. 

Spencer turns off the lamp, and you open your eyes. You can just see his shape as he navigates the dark room, negative space on a charcoal backdrop, but as your vision adjusts, you can see a faint suggestion of his features in the blue-black. 

You feel it, though, when his weight makes the springs of the old mattress dip. You’d expected him to lie on his back again, but instead his face is just inches from yours when his cheek comes to rest on the pillow. You feel the way he’s breathing, quick and shallow and nervous. You feel your heart kick in your ribs, thudding so loud he must be able to hear it. 

He reaches out slowly, hooking an arm around your ribs, and pauses with just the very tips of his spidery fingers touching your back, between your shoulder blades: five soft points of contact that you feel so intensely they might as well be electrode pads connecting you to a defibrillator. 

This is crossing a line, and you both know it. 

It’s not a sexual touch, it’s not that sort of thrill going through you, but something about this feels profoundly intimate. That intimacy is almost more shocking than lust might’ve been, and it’s much more dangerous. It’s the sort of closeness you don’t walk away from unscathed.  

Spencer’s fingers flutter, butterfly-wing delicate, like one or the other of you might be trembling. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” he whispers. 

“Yes.”  

Maybe you’re both trembling. 

His palm comes to rest on your back, easing you closer, and you shift, settle, readjust. He pulls back and tilts his head just long enough to brush his lips over your temple, soft and sweet, before tucking you neatly under his chin, where you fit like you were meant to be there, with your nose nudging at the gap between his collar and the delicate skin of his throat.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, sounding just as awed as you feel. 

“Sweet dreams, Spencer.” 

.

.

.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

More Criminal Minds fic is here. 

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Stargazing <3 ft. Muichiro, Shinobu, Rengoku, Giyuu, Mitsuri, and Obanai!

a/n: I’m literally just grabbing some of my favorite Hashira and throwing together something short (once again late on a school night,,),,, I just want softness, and stargazing is like,, love in its purest form <3 these however, are terrible cheesy. I’m so sorry.

warnings: none <3

word count: 969

Muichiro Tokito <3

Really really likes stargazing. It’s peaceful, beautiful, and romantic while not being over-the-top. He probably prefers cloud-watching over stargazing, but, at the same time, stargazing is much easier on the eyes, since there’s no worries about the sun being too bright. Plus, even when the clouds cover the stars, they’re still there.

He once pointed that out- that the stars are there no matter what- and you couldn’t help but smile, telling him that it was just like the two of you. “Even when you don’t see me, even when I’m not there, I’m going to be there for you. I’ll even be cheering you on,” You said, glancing over at the boy. “That’s weird, (Y/N),” He sighed, eyes not moving from the sky. “It’s still a nice thought though, so… I appreciate it.”

Shinobu Kocho <3

Stargazing isn’t her favorite thing in the world, but seeing how happy you are to stare at the night sky makes it very worth it. She’ll admire the stars from time to time, mainly when you’re pointing out certain constellations or planets to her, but her interest in the sky ends there. She’ll instead spend the time admiring you, and teasing you a bit.

“Hey, (Y/N), how come you never look at me like that?” She joked, poking you gently. “Shinobu, I don’t know if I can muster an expression for how much I admire you,” You replied, glancing over at her. “Mhmm, how very cheesy. You’re so lucky to be cute,” She replied, patting your shoulder fondly. “And you’re so lucky I think you’re better than the stars, or else you’d be inside.” “Now, now, you know you couldn’t force me. I’d simply follow you until I got to see that awestruck expression of yours.”

Rengoku Kyojuro <3

I feel like Rengoku is much more of a day person, but he doesn’t necessarily dislike stargazing. In fact, he enjoys learning things about stars with you, and sometimes shares things about stars that he finds neat. He doesn’t have much of an inside voice to start with, so his bold, loud voice may “ruin the peacefulness” a bit, but his enthusiasm makes up for it tenfold.

“Passion is typically compared to that of the burning sun!” He said, crossing his arms. “It sure is,” You replied, knowing that he wasn’t finished with his statement, but that he wanted to make sure you were listening instead of spacing out. “However, if the sun is a star, then there are stars out there burning many times brighter than our sun! That in mind, shouldn’t the passion burning in our hearts instead be compared to that?” “That’s true… I suppose it’s a bit too late to change a saying though.” “Fair point!!”

Giyuu Tomioka <3

He didn’t understand the appeal until you asked if he wanted to join you. If it was anyone else, he would have declined, but he couldn’t tell you no. After doing it several times, he found himself really enjoying it. Even on missions, he found himself glancing at the stars and feeling a gentle fondness and peace. Plus, any time he caught a glimpse of the stars sparkling above his head, he was now reminded of you.

“I’m glad to have something that reminds me of you,” Giyuu spoke, staring in the direction completely opposite of you. “Oh?” You remarked, noticing his shyness and smiling to yourself at how he was probably wearing an adorable blush. There was no point in hiding it, since he blushed fairly often, and it was dark, but his pride was probably getting the best of him. “Yes… now, I can’t help but think of you when I see the sky… it’s… reassuring. Especially on missions. Thank you.” “AHh, don’t thank me for something so trivial as that- for what it’s worth, I can’t help but think of you whenever I see the sky as well.”

Mitsuri Kanroji <3

You already knew this queen loves stargazing. She nearly beat you to asking if she wanted to stargaze- it’s just so sweet to her. It’s peaceful, and the coolness of the night air gives the perfect excuse to cuddle a bit closer. It’s practically perfect!

“The only downside to stargazing is how cold it gets,” You sighed, huddling closer to Mitsuri. “The only downside to stargazing alone,” She correctly, resting her head against yours. You nodded, smiling at the sweet action and warmth that she gave off. “This is really nice…” She whispered, and you saw through your peripheral the way she stared fondly at the sky. Such a happy look on her face only amplified the joy you felt in that moment as you agreed with her. “It really is…”

Obanai Iguro <3

He pretended to be extremely uninterested when you asked, but he actually had little to no opinion on it. While you pulled gently on his haori, asking him several more times if he’d please go out and stargaze with you, he’d roll his eyes, muttering about how boring it would be. In reality, he wasn’t actually planning on not going, he just didn’t want to give in so easily. After a few moments of pestering, he gave an annoyed huff and stepped outside with you.

“You see those stars? They’re-” “I can’t tell which star you’re pointing at. There’s a billion in that direction, you know.” You blinked for a moment, pondering how on earth you could describe the star any better. “Okay…” You whispered, moving closer to the bandaged boy, “in the direction I’m pointing, do you see that brightest star?” “They’re all pretty bright, but sure.” “It’s part of a constellation! See, if you connect it to-” Obanai once again cut you off by placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “I’ve already seen constellations. You’re explaining it won’t make it appear any clearer, so don’t bother... I’d rather have a normal conversation.”

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife For Thor Pt.01

10/12/2020

Arrivals and Departures

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,990

Warnings: language, talks of death, angst, talks of sex,

A/N: This is seriously...I mean, I don’t even know where this came from. Credits to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ because Roo gave me the idea and I kinda ran with it. Like omg, y’all. Blame Roo. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo Dialogue from Thor Ragnarok has been used in the beginning of this story.

Please do not REPOST my stories anywhere. Reblogs are most welcome!

He stands with his arms crossed in what appears to be a small sitting room with a large window that opens to the sublime sight of the black space beyond. Sterling silver, radiant red, and brilliant blue stars twinkle into infinity.

This is a sight that Thor had seen many times before and yet, for the first time in an age, he felt hopeful for the future.

His fight had ended. With Ragnarok, his journey had reached an end. Not the end, but certainly that of a chapter I which his battles might rest.

He imagines that this might be how his father felt when he had taken charge of the nine realms.

However violent that takeover might have been, his father had lied about many things—his sister for one—it had been the beginning of a quieter reign. A new formative time for his father. He may not have been a perfect man, but he’d grown wiser in many ways. Still not the best father, but his father, nonetheless.

Thor can almost picture his life on Earth, a time of peace. A time to rebuild. He will be able to give his people a good life there and he’s certain that his friends will appreciate having him closer. Friends from work they may be, but friends.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” Loki asks, standing beside him with his hands held gently at his front.

Thor looks at him, waiting a moment to allow him to finish speaking.

“Yes, of course.” Thor assures him. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Loki takes a breath, looking out the window as he quickly accepts his brother’s reasoning while simultaneously realizing he must word this differently to get his point across.

“Let me rephrase that.” Loki begins, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor knows that Loki has a point. His history with Earth is…not perfect. To say the least.

“Probably not, to be honest.” He admits, noting Loki’s apprehension.

Loki smiles, a little knowing.

“I wouldn’t worry, brother.” Thor tells him, both turning back to the void outside. “I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

The moment seems endless, the two of them waiting as if the something should or might happen after Thor’s optimistic sentiments.

Then the moment passes and Loki sighs.

“Right, well, I’ll start rounding up the people who will be of the most use once we arrive.”

Thor gives his brother one parting smile but doesn’t watch him leave.

Thor doesn’t know exactly what has changed in him, what makes him so confident in this decision, but he knows it’s the best decision he could have made. And if he’s honest, though he’d never admit it out loud, the possibility of finally being on the same planet as Jane…well, he’d be a fool not to consider the possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something feels different today.

As you wake, turning onto your side to stare across the small room at the blinking line on the blank word document on your computer screen, you can’t quite put your finger on what is making you nervous.

Your stomach is rolling, making you queasy, despite the fact that you have no reason to be anxious.

Yesterday was like the day before and today will be just like yesterday. Nothing in your life ever changes, and that’s become so much of who you are that whenever you have even a doctor’s appointment your heart begins to race in dreaded anticipation.

With trembling hands you clutch your blanket, trying to find a reason behind this mood. Your breath quickens as your heart panics, your mind scrambling to make sense of these emotions but nothing comes to mind.

So, you get out of bed. You get dressed choosing a simple knee length black dress that fits loose enough to keep you comfortable throughout the day. Then you head into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Halfway through the brew you shut the machine off and rush to dump out its contents into the sink.

“Fuck.”

You sigh, realizing you should really invest in decaf coffee for morning just like this.

“Tea. Tea is better.” You rationalize and pull your kettle off the warmer and fill it in the sink.

You replace it in its dock then turn your back to it, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you lean against it.

Your fingers stroke the smooth and unvarnished wooden countertop, suddenly going rigid around the lip as your heart goes frantic again.

The island counter directly in front of you is made of the same unvarnished wood, a slightly mismatched chair on the other side, tucked in beside the open shelving that holds your pots and pans. Along the center of the island sits a small vase with nearly completely withered flowers.

You’re filled with relief as your hands are given new task and you hurry forward and take the clear glass vase, toss the flowers���which crumble as they hit yesterday’s empty cereal box—dump the water in the sink and quickly refill it.

Setting the vase aside, you pull open a drawer and pluck from an array of contents a small packet of flower food, a pair of small pruners, a long piece of twine, and head out the back door to your modest backyard.

There isn’t much in it, and it’s unfenced. A large tree at the back-left corner provides shade and pecans. In the center of the yard sits a set of antique iron work garden furniture. Twisted and shaped into what reminds you of lace. Two smaller chairs and one long bench with curved backs.

You’ve been of a mind to buy cushions for them, but you haven’t found an excuse to justify the expense.

In between the garden set sits an outdoor coffee table made of wood and painted white. It’s fading and will need a new coat soon but again the expense can wait. At least until you sell another story.

Apart from this set and a small wooden shed beside the pecan tree, your yard is mostly overgrown grass and carefully cultivated flowers lining the length of your narrow back porch.

You smile, noticing the length of your grass, grateful for another something to keep you busy today. Something to keep your mind off this mysterious and anxious premonition of something to come.

Quickly you move to a large blooming bush at the end of your porch and cut from it several bunches of pink and blue garden phlox.

You admire the shade of the blue flowers. The color reminds you a pair of blue eyes you’d once seen on a woman who’d come to your school as a child.

She’d been beautiful and kind, but she hadn’t picked you. Still, you’d never forgotten the color of her eyes.

The pink is pastel at the edges of its petals and vibrant magenta at the center.

As you head back in, the kettle only barely beginning to steam, you quickly arrange the bunches you’ve picked and wrap them up with the twine. You set the bushel aside and with the vase pulled close, you tear the packet of flower food with your teeth and pour it in.

Replacing the flowers, you give the kettle one more look before you race back into your bedroom to pick out a more appropriate outfit for cutting the grass.

You decide on a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. Pulling them on, you pause with your shirt hooked around your arms as your eyes find your laptop screen, annoyingly black still.

With a groan you pull your shirt on and from the kitchen you hear the whistle.

Breakfast is simple. A store-bought muffin and a cup of breakfast tea do the trick and while you’re still chewing your last bite you head out to cut your grass.

It doesn’t take you too long and you lament the last bit as you cut it, the machine vibrating violently in your nervous grip.

No matter how much you try to distract yourself, this feeling of something terrible coming will not go away and you’re about to go out of your mind when a shout from your back door pulls your mind from it.

Standing there is an older man with an unconventionally handsome face. His lips are thin, cheekbones prominent, brown eyes sunken, and his nose long and defined. His dark hair slicked and parted, neatly kept to match his crisp navy suit.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You shout at him as the whirr of the machine dies into silence.

The man moves towards you, a smile brightening his face.

“I was just at a meeting.” He explains.

“Do you ever stop working?” You wonder, pushing the lawn mower towards the shed as he follows.

“Only when I’m on vacation.” He tells you, amusement in his voice but subdued and you only hear it because you’ve known him for years.

“You don’t take vacations.” You sputter, almost laughing.

“Precisely.” He agrees.

He waits for you to shut the door and when you turn, he greets you with open arms.

“How have you been?” He asks, holding the hug for longer than you’re used to which only adds to the anxiety you’ve been feeling all morning.

What’s going on?!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask him, ignoring his question in favor of satisfying your curiosity.

He doesn’t answer but holds the hug a moment longer before pulling back to look at you.

“We have to talk.” He tells you, making your heart pound.

“Okay. You want some breakfast?” You offer, and swallow hard as your fear mounts.

“Sure.” He says and follows you inside.

You make him a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, and buttered toast with a cup of coffee. Just because you can’t stand the idea of being hyped up on caffeine today doesn’t mean David won’t.

He digs right in while you stand on the other side of the island, sipping on your second cup of tea in hopes that it will ease your frayed nerves.

For a few minutes he gobbles down your food but when you shift on your feet for the fourth time, he clears his throat, takes a drink of his coffee, then puts his fork down.

“It’s not exactly bad news.” He assures you, easing you a little but something tells you that you still won’t like it.

“Just tell me, David.”

“As your lawyer,” He begins, sitting back in your old wobbly chair. “It’s my duty to inform you when there are developments with your family’s estate.”

“Right.” You agree, remembering the day he’d found you when you’d turned eighteen to tell you that you weren’t exactly as poor as you’d thought.

You’re not really rich either. You have a little money that your parents set aside for you. Old money that you hadn’t really touched. You use it mostly for bills when you can’t sell a story fast enough and most of your wealth is in this cottage. A family home that you’d had no idea was yours until David brought you here.

Finally, a home, after living in that school all those years.

“Well, I think it might be time to reveal a little more of that estate’s history.”

“Why?” You put down the floral porcelain cup and wrap your arms around yourself, afraid of what he’ll say.

How did you know that something was coming? What kind of sixth sense do you have?!

“After all this time, why would it matter?” You sigh, moving to pull out the second chair to his right on the shorter end of the island.

“Don’t panic.” He tells you, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Let’s keep our heads. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You say that, but why do I feel like that’s not exactly true?” You sigh.

He blinks, gathering his thoughts before he nods.

“I think I’ll tell you all at once. Like ripping a band-aid. Might be the easiest for you.” He realizes.

You don’t disagree.

“Your family comes from a very small people in Europe. Their origins are hard to trace but we know that they travelled between France, Norway, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Greece, and even spent a large amount of time in hiding in the United Kingdom.”

“I get it, they were nomads.” You sigh, your mood taking a turn from the anticipation of clarity.

“Yes. Nomads.” David agrees, patting your hand in an attempt to calm you. “I only mention it because there are many questions as to where they had originated from. No one seems to know. Unfortunately, I don’t think that question will ever be answered as all records before their stint in France have been lost.

“What we do know is that your ancestors, your bloodline are royalty.” David says, as easily as if he were telling you your age. “Even though the titles have long since been lost, you are technically—though you have no country to rule over—a princess.”

Slowly his words sink in and your face begins to relax. You look down at his hand over yours and without warning you laugh once. Then again, and again, until you’re leaning on your chair, head thrown back as your whole body shakes with it.

“What is so funny?” David asks, unamused but he goes back to eating.

“This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.” You gasp, breath shallow.

“Not one little bit.” He shakes his head. “If we knew what country your ancestors came from, you would very much be in some palace or castle, reigning over your people. Your parents, were they alive, would have been King and Queen.

“You may not think it possible, but that is your legacy, Y/N. You are of royal blood.” David insists which sobers you a little, but you think it’s so silly that this is what you’d been so scared of.

This is what you’d been dreading?

“Okay. Fine. I believe you. But what does it matter? You said that if I still had a country then I would be princess, but clearly, I don’t. So, I’m not. What’s the point of telling me this when it makes absolutely no difference to my life?

“I don’t feel any different and it’s not like that makes me any richer? I’m still sitting on a decently sized fortune to assure that I don’t want for anything at least until my forties. What could this possibly change that you felt it necessary to tell me?”

David wipes his mouth with his napkin, finishing up the last bit of his coffee before he gets up and with his dirty plates moves towards the sink.

“Leave it, David. I’ll clean up later.” You watch him, sitting up a little straighter as that anxious feeling begins to grow again with his extended silence.

He washes the plate and as he does, your nerves begin to fray again. You anxiously pick at a small splinter in your island, waiting for him to speak.

He turns towards you as he finished washing his plate, then meets your eyes.

“You weren’t just revealing my heritage, were you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to reveal your heritage because someone has reached out with the hopes of setting up a meeting with you.”

“Why would anyone wanna meet with me simply because they know of my lineage?” You wonder, slouched, hands moved to your lap to rest limply as you stare at David, fear increasing with every moment that passes.

“May I ask you a personal question?” He says, moving to stand closer as he dries his hand on your dishtowel.

“David, you know everything about me.” You sigh.

“Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I’m not sure I’ve ever asked if you-?”

“To be honest, I don’t know either.” You shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even as a child?” He wonders.

“I was too busy wishing for parents as a kid.” You clarify. “I didn’t have time for crushes or any of that stuff.”

“Are you opposed to a relationship?” David asks, dropping the towel then moving around to sit back down in his seat.

“Opposed?” You ask, shaking your head. “Not exactly opposed. I’ve just never known anyone worth caring about like that. I’m mainly here at home. I do go into town when I need to get my packages but there isn’t anyone there that…I don’t draw attention like that.”

“You’re a pretty girl.” David tells you, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. “When you aren’t sweaty and covered in grass clippings.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“It’s not something I really worry about.” You admit.

“Would you ever want to get married?” David asks, and your heart is suddenly pounding.

The idea of being someone’s wife had crossed your mind once or twice. Mostly when you’d been jotting down ideas or plotlines for your books. In the end, because you didn’t think you had enough insight, you’d opted to remove all romance. You write mysteries.

“I don’t know that I’d be any good at it.” You confess. “I’m not…I can’t exactly picture myself being someone’s wife.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I don’t even know what I’d be like in a relationship, sharing space and time, much less sharing an entire life?” You shake your head. “I’m not saying that I haven’t thought about it but it’s only ever been in passing.”

David goes silent, tapping his index finger against the island.

“David, please. You know I can’t take the suspense.” You plead.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He nods then reminds himself, “Band-aid.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him a little more in your seat.

“Well, you are aware of our planet’s newest inhabitants?”

“Th-The Asgardians in Norway?”

“Yes.” David nods. “Well, as a sign of good faith, to ensure that they will abide by Earth’s laws and to assuage any ideas from panicked world leaders that they might try and overtake the planet and make it their own, they have decided that marriage to someone from Earth might be the best way to do that.

“The Asgardian known as Brunnhilde has reached out to all families of royal blood and asked to meet with any eligible women, preferably—as she so tactfully put it—maidens.” He explains. “Which I take it you are?”

You swallow hard, your lungs rubbed of oxygen and yet you somehow manage to quietly acknowledge, “Yes. I’m a virgin.”

How can you not be after spending your whole life unconcerned with romance?

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N.” David suddenly says; however, you can see the ‘but’ in his eyes. “But if you don’t and the Asgardian king cannot choose from the women he does meet, you will probably be hunted down and forced to meet with him anyway.

“All world leaders are in agreement that this is the correct and only way to ensure the safety of the planet. They will not give up until every woman meeting the Asgardian’s requirements have been given the chance to meet with Thor.”

“Thor?!” You gasp, rising to your feet as hundreds if not thousands of images flash through your mind of the Thunder God and the Avengers fighting side by side.

“Yes.” David affirms, rising to his feet with you. “With the death of his father, he is now King of Asgard.”

Of course, Thor is going to be King. You already knew this. It’s common sense.

For some reason though, the confirmation made out loud, vocally…how the fuck are you supposed to marry Thor? An Avenger? That’s not…this cannot be real life!

“David,” You begin, apprehensive.

“I know. I know it is a lot to ask but as I said, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. He might very well not pick you.” David adds, rushing to comfort you and point out how unlikely you’d be the one Thor chooses to wed. “There are plenty of other women that he’s already met with. Women that are more suited to life in a palace than you are. The Hungarian princess is so eager to be Queen of Asgard that she’s been sending the other women bribes to try and convince them to refuse.

“It won’t make a difference, since they cannot refuse should Thor choose them.” David admits.

“A-all I have to do is meet with him?” You stutter, heart in your throat.

“Just a quick one-hour meeting. He’ll ask you questions. Get to know a bit about you. See if you are suited for life as Asgardian queen and then it’s over.” David assures you.

“I’m…There are lots of other women better for it, right?”

“Loads of them.” David promises.

New fears begin to take hold in your heart and mind.

It conjures up the last time you’d seen Thor, strutting from a massive spaceship docked over the ocean by New Asgard. He’d risen from its depths all wide shoulders and biceps. Heavy steps thudding as he’d stopped at the end of the massive ramp, waving at the cameras as his people had filed out behind him.

His hair cropped short as opposed to the long tresses he’d had when he’d last been on Earth, one eye missing with a sleek black and gold metal patch over it the absence.

You’ve never been threatened by him before. He’s a hero. But the prospect of being his wife and having wifely duties...

Your mind flies into panic as it shifts that large body over you, crawling towards you with his hands prying your legs open. The years of sexual experience radiating off of this fantasy Thor and all of his bulging muscles.

You almost want to throw up at the prospect of having to consummate a marriage. You haven’t exactly been eager to be with anyone since you haven’t met anyone special, but you’d at least imagined something more intimate. More personal.

“David I-they won’t choose me though, right?” You reach out for him because your legs are suddenly weak.

He takes hold of your arms and helps you stand still.

“They won’t.” He tells you, sounding convinced. “There are better candidates. Women with actual titles.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He has to be right.

“It’s just a quick meeting.” He promises. “Then it’ll all be over, and you can come back to your cottage and live just as you have been, with no one to bother you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving your little place is difficult. After spending years without a home to call your own, now that you have your cottage, tearing yourself away from it is like pulling splinters.

You like your little yard. You like your flowers. You love your bed and its white sheets, little pink and yellow flowers printed on the soft fabric.

You’d made it more feminine. You’d brought flowers back and frills and lace. You’d made it everything you thought a cottage at the edge of a wood should look like and as time had gone by you’d brought in more personal touches.

After several years, your home is finally completely you.

This place, this massive Asgardian structure is less gold and more wood, stone, and iron. Silver steel polished so bright it gleams even in moonlight. This place is not you. It’s him. It’s Thor. His home.

Right now, with the day almost over, the palace takes on a warmer tone. The wooden structures and gray stone pillars are bathed in orange light, giving the place a pleasant glow and despite yourself, you can almost picture Thor meandering through these Nordic halls, a long crimson robe around his thick form.

It isn’t an unpleasant image now that you’ve given yourself some time to get used to the idea of him.

When you arrived you were greeted and seated in a large round room, the lower quarter of the sturdy walls made of ornate stone brick, the rest of the wall beautiful dark oak. The floor is also stone, massive carpets underneath several pieces of obviously Norse inspired furniture.

Well actually, the Norse was probably derived from Asgardian styles. There’s a difference in them that you can see but don’t understand. The coffee table in front of you has ornately carved legs, golden embellishments, and a black coat of paint.

The sofa you’re sitting on is mostly wood, painted gold, with plush and soft satin covered cushions in wine red.

There are two other tables around the room, a collection of books on one and an array of fruits, foods, and drinks on the other. There are several different statues and stands. Lamps that look as if they should have flames instead of the electric bulbs they now hold.

Small touches of modern design filter through the room complimenting the more traditional décor.

“Hello there.” Says a lilting voice.

You recognize it and turn to find Loki, slipping through a narrow opening in the large set of doors you’d been escorted through almost half an hour ago.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath dressing the look down.

“H-Hi.” You stammer, surprised by his appearance.

You stand, knowing well that he may not be King but for Asgard, Loki is still a prince.

“No, please. Do not get up on my account.” He gestures at your seat and you settle back in as he crosses to the table with all the books. “I forgot some papers in here, I only came to retrieve them. Do not mind me.”

You avert your eyes, afraid to see something you shouldn’t and sit just as stiffly as before, hands fisting the royal purple dress you’d chosen to wear. It’s simple, quarter sleeves, high neckline with a small V at the center. Just above your knees in length, it rises as you grip it.

“Nervous to meet my brother?” Loki asks, stopping by the doors as he eyes your tight grip.

“This whole situation is a little stressful.” You admit. “I’m…I live in a small house in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Ah, you’re the one with the lost lineage.” Loki realizes, moving closer with interest. “A hidden princess. You could have refused to come, you know?”

“I would have been forced eventually.” You point out. “There are a lot of people who want this marriage thing to happen.”

“True.” Loki agrees, “My fault, I’m afraid. I make them nervous.”

“You did very nearly destroy New York.” You point out, remembering the carnage reported that day. The aftermath had taken forever to clean up.

“I did.” Loki agrees. “Do you fear me?”

“No.” You admit. “If you weren’t safe, Thor wouldn’t have brought you back here.”

“He could just be too trusting.”

“Maybe.” You agree. “But with the fate of his entire people tied to the successful acclimation of Asgard and Earth, if you were really a threat, I think he’d have cut you out before coming back.”

Loki’s lips slowly curl up into a smile before breaking apart into a toothy grin.

“What is your name again?” He asks, a sparkle of something in his eyes.

“Y/N.” You tell him. “Why?”

“No reason. This has been very illuminating, Y/N. It was lovely to meet you.” Loki says then with a quick bow of his head, he leaves you to your solitude.

Confused, you sit there completely at a loss for what just happened.

Had you taken too many liberties with Loki? What had that smile meant? You’d been made aware that Loki was also involved in recruiting women of royal blood into marriage meetings for Thor, but you hadn’t expected him to know you by the description of where you live.

Maybe because it’s so unlike anyone else’s?

You sit there stewing for another twenty minutes, wondering if maybe you’re being stood up when the large doors open once again.

You shoot up onto your feet, so damn nervous your body reacts without your permission. Through the door this time comes the man of the hour. The massive Thunder God dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt crosses over to the table with food and pours himself a stein of what looks like beer from a sloshing brown pitcher.

“Estrid, is this from the new batch of ale?” He booms loud enough that he can be heard even outside of the room as he takes a quick sniff of the liquid.

His voice is so deep.

Licking your lips, you watch him drink the entire stein without taking a breath or waiting for an answer, and then refill it before grabbing it and taking an apple with his other hand.

He turns, holding the fruit up to his mouth and freezes with it pressed to his lips as he meets your eyes, realizing he isn’t alone.

You’re not exactly sure what to say or what to do, completely taken aback by this strange and sudden exposure to candid Thor. Both of you unprepared to see each other despite the fact that you’ve literally been waiting nearly an hour for him.

His confusion mounts as he lowers the apple, looking around as if expecting an explanation or to see if he’s in the correct room.

“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, meeting your gaze again.

“N-Nearly six.” You tell him, and his one good eye goes slightly wide.

“Oh!” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I did not think it was that late.”

His smile makes you feel a little more at ease, but you’re still on edge.

“You’re my meeting.” He tells you, as if you don’t already know that. “Y/N? Y/L/N, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, then before you can stop yourself… “You’re late.”

Thor blinks. Startled it seems or maybe just surprised, but then he smiles again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you can be as late as you’d like. This is your meeting. Sorry. I didn’t…I don’t know why I said that.” You rush to say.

“No, no.” Thor turns to put down his stein of beer and the apple replaced in its bowl. “You’re right. I am late. We were supposed to meet at five, weren’t we?”

When he turns back to you, you nod.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have much you could be doing.” Thor says, moving towards you and gesturing at the spot you’d been in before sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

“No.” You confess. “Not really. I’m actually one of the only people that probably doesn’t have much to do. Well, I mean, I could be writing. Or cleaning house.”

“They tell me that you had no knowledge about your lineage before Brunnhilde reached out to your lawyer?”

You nod. “It’s not really important. Or…no. That’s not the right-what I mean to say is that it isn’t significant to my life.”

“Don’t you want to know who your family is?” Thor wonders.

“I know who my family is. I had a mom. And a dad. Both died just after I was born. That’s my family.” You explain. “Apart from getting to meet you, the news that my family was once royalty doesn’t change it in any way. I’m still just as insignificant today as I was before.”

Thor narrows his brow, watching you for a long torturous moment as he considers what you’d just said.

“Tell me about yourself.” He suddenly says, turning to lean back against the arm, his own thrown over the back, right leg bent up onto the sofa.

“There isn’t much to tell.” You admit. “I was born, my parents died in an accident. I was taken to a school for orphans where I grew up and aged out. On the day I had to leave, Mr. Valis found me and gave me my inheritance which is a good amount of money and a small house. I’ve been living there ever since.”

“You didn’t take any additional schooling?” Thor asks, relaxing. “All the other young women I’ve met have made it a point to tell me about the universities and colleges they’ve attended.”

“I took a few correspondence classes.” You tell him, “But I’ve only ever wanted to write, and I didn’t feel that I needed a higher education to do it. I mean, it would probably look better on my resume, but my writing should speak for itself.”

You can’t really tell what he’s thinking with the way he’s watching you, his hand playing with a thread on the back of the sofa.

You take it as a good sign that many of the other women have a degree of some sort. They must want someone respectable with a good education, right?

“How do you feel about political marriages?” He asks, and you’re stunned for a moment.

“Um…”

“Be honest, please.”

“I guess I don’t like the idea?” You admit. “Being forced to marry someone you don’t love because duty demands it? Feels archaic. If you love someone, whether they fit into whatever political standards are being demanded or not should not be a reason to get married.”

Thor sits up, shifting a little closer as he leans towards you.

“If you were asked to go along with a political marriage in every way but the heart, could you?” He wonders, much more interested than before.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Well, let’s say for example, you and I were to marry. We’d be expected to have children. You’d be bound to do your duties as Queen of Asgard, but you would not be required to love me. Would you be able to fulfill these requirements?”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” You realize, seeing the eagerness in his eyes. His shoulders slump. “If you don’t want to get married, why don’t you just say something?”

“I must do what I can to ensure the future of my people.” Thor says, sighing deeply.

“I’m guessing there’s someone else you do love that you can’t marry?”

“Not that I can’t but won’t. She isn’t ready for marriage and I don’t feel right making that kind of demand from her when she clearly has other things she’d like to be doing with her life. And…yes, maybe a little bit can’t. A royal marriage would make the most sense. I need a Queen.” Thor says.

You can’t find the words to tell him how fucked up this all is so instead you sit in silence.

“I know this is not ideal. I’ve tried to find other ways of assuring Earth of my commitment to this planet but nothing I’ve suggested is good enough.”

He needs a Queen. This gives you solace. No one is less of a queen than you are.

“I’m sorry.” You finally tell him. “It’s not fair. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who checks all those boxes for you. I hear the Hungarian princess is pretty eager.”

Thor ignores you, stroking his beard as he watches you. “What do you want from a marriage? Let us say it’s many years from now and you have found someone you love beyond all reason. You two decide to get married. What does that look like?”

You’re a little surprised by the question but you humor him and take a moment to really think about it.

The man you picture has no face. There is no one you care enough about to imagine. So…because he’s the only option, you take Thor’s face and give your imaginary husband a face.

“We’d be partners.” You tell him. “Open about everything important. We would respect each other’s individualities. If something is troubling me, I would like to know that I could turn to him and if he had something on his mind, I’d hope that he could turn to me too.

“We’d be honest about even the unpleasant aspects of our life together. If we disagreed, we would talk about it openly. We wouldn’t hide from each other. We’d spend as much time as we could together and always make time for each other.”

You picture Thor sitting at your island in your comfy cottage. He’s so massive that he’d take up so much space. You’d have to squeeze past him, and he’d turn to wrap his arms around your waist as you pass.

He’d trap you there, not letting you move.

“We’d make breakfast together. Cramped up in my little kitchen, it would turn into play.” You smile. “We’d lounge around the house, reading and listening to music. In the evenings we’d move out to the backyard and watch the sun set then watch the stars until I’d fall asleep on his shoulder.”

As if you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you startle yourself out of your daydream and feel your neck heat up.

You’d crossed from rational marriage into sentimental and you’re a little shocked at the detail in which your mind has gone.

You’re also a little startled by the pleasant feeling that picturing Thor in those situations has given you.

For someone who has never had a crush, you’re startled by the butterflies it gives you.

“But I’ve never been into anyone like that before.” You tell him, looking away from his intense gaze. “So, even if that’s what I picture, it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen.”

“It might.” Thor says, sounding as if he might be trying to comfort you.

“It won’t.” You assure him. “I hope your girl changes her mind.”

There’s a bitter ache in your chest as you say it, and you’re certain it’s only there because of the little fantasy you just allowed yourself to have. You should have picture someone else.

“I hope they relax on the royal blood thing and let you marry someone you love instead.” You hope.

“You say that as if you already know that I won’t pick you.” Thor observes.

You smile wide, laughing even as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m nothing like the girls you’ve met with. I don’t have endless amounts of money. I don’t have a prestigious education or extensive family. I don’t know anything about being royalty. The others have been doing it their entire lives. I’m the least likely candidate. I don’t fit the requirements, except for the bloodline thing.

“I only agreed to meet with you because I knew that the likelihood of you picking me was almost non-existent.”

“Ouch.” Thor says.

“No!” You rush to say. “You’re very…I mean, you’re kind from what I can tell and honorable. You’ve saved Earth a couple times and you’re a little self-centered but only in a superficial way that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good man.

“I honestly don’t know why your girl won’t marry you but I’m not right for this.” You nod. “I wouldn’t make a good Queen for you.”

Thor nods slowly, thinking for a minute before he straightens up and turns to rise, slapping his hands on his knees before he moves back towards the table of fruit and beer.

“You’re probably right.” He agrees, and for some reason, you’re disappointed.

Not so much that he isn’t picking you, but rather that he sees you aren’t enough. You’re lacking in some way. Which you already knew but…knowing he thinks that makes you feel a little lousy despite that being something you wanted.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pick someone more suitable. Someone who knows better about ruling a people. All the same, thank you for coming.” Thor says, dismissing you.

He picks up his stein again and turns to look at you as you rise.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, “Likewise.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give him a wave and move for the doors, trembling hands reaching out to yank the doors open and make your escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since you met with Thor and you’ve completely forgotten the whole thing. Life has gone back to normal and even though you now know that you’re from royal stock, nothing, as you expected, has changed.

The only plus that has risen from this whole situation is that you can now picture marriage a little better, however inexperienced and cliché it might be, you can make something up now.

Your little fling with the idea of Thor had given you fuel to slip a little romance into your writing and your fingers are flying across the keyboard of your laptop as you type up a new and promising mystery about a set of lovers and the body they discover in the attic of their new home.

You hate to be interrupted during a writing session, but you must have forgotten that about yourself because your phone starts to ring.

Normally you mute it before you even sit down to write.

With a growl you reach over and take a quick look at the number.

David flashes on your screen and quickly you swipe to answer.

“Hey, can I call you back in like an hour? I’m in the middle of a chapter and I’m on a roll.” You plead, fingers still flying across the keys.

“Y/N, Thor chose you.” David’s voice says and your fingers freeze.

There’s a pounding in your chest and your head is full of white fuzz. Your legs are numb, and your stomach is swirling with both flutters and nausea.

You can’t have heard that right.

“What?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Thor. He chose you. I just got off the phone with Brunnhilde and she wanted to let me know so that I could call you and let you know that she’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

This can’t be happening.

“She said to pack only what you absolutely need. Everything else will be provided for you.”

“David…I…I can refuse, right? I don’t have to marry him.” You plead desperately.

“Y/N…” David sighs. “You agreed to this before you went to see him. I’m afraid the time to back out has come and gone.”

“But I can just not do it.” You argue. “They can’t force me to do it.”

“The government will seize your assets if you refuse.” David explains. “They want this done. I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s no backing out of this now.”

“But…But he loves someone else.” You tell him and even though your mind knows that this should be the last thing to concern you, it should not be the first reason you can think of why marrying Thor is a bad idea, it is.

As your eyes focus on the little blinking line of your word doc, your heart gives a painful ache knowing that your husband will be loving someone else.

[thirstystarkey]

BEAUTIFUL SOUL 🦋 JJ MAYBANK

Prompt: During a summer road trip where the pogues agreed to help Kiara restoring her grandparents beach house JJ might come to terms with his long term feelings for his best friend, Y/N. (this is vaguely inspired in the song beautiful soul by jesse mccartney)

Warnings: I guess none besides mentions of alcohol and weed. A steamy make out sesh at the end.

not by gifs, credits to the owners

HE REMEMBERS, perfectly when it all happened. When he realized he loved her in a different way than he loved the rest of the pogues. That night still plays in his mind like a song but he is too stubborn to sing it out loud so what JJ does is look at Y/N, mesmerized by how lovely she is in hopes that maybe one day he gets enough courage to confess his deepest feelings, even if to do so he has to break the sacred rule of “no pogue on pogue mocking” that Kiara invented one day.

JJ looks out the window and it’s like he is living everything again.

The rain was pouring outside. His hair was wet and his face ached with pain, it was bloody and late at night but he had no other place to go. John B was spending the night with Sarah so Y/N was his last hope.

JJ knocked softly at her window, he could see her from outside. She looked so peaceful sitting in her bed while she made sea shell necklaces. He knocked again, she heared. Y/N looked at him, completely surprised by his presence at such hour but still she let him in.

“Oh my god JJ, are you okay?” Her voice was so tender JJ swore he could melt right there.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to bother you.” He sniffed. “I just... I had no other place to go.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

Y/N promised and she really was there for him. She gave him clean and warm clothes so JJ didn’t get sick and she cleaned his wounds for him. Starting at his bruised knuckles and ending with his bloody face.

She tilted his chin up to get a better look at his face and at the evidence of the fight, sitting in the middle of his legs. Her delicate thumb ran through his bottom lip, to clean the little streak of blood. She said nothing as she examined it. After a brief moment of silence JJ’s heart skips a nervous beat as he looks Y/N dead in the eye. Even though their voices are quiet they are filled with tension and sorrow. Their anger barely restrained.

“Who did this to you?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“My dad.”

It broke her heart. But she had to be strong in that moment. Y/N finished her work and gave JJ the tightest hug in the planet after she kissed her cheek.

“You are welcome in my house anytime, any day.”

JJ let’s out a loud and long sign. John B is driving the old van and everyone his sitting in their usual places but his eyes always fixate in the same person, Y/N. His slender fingers move to the necklace he wears daily, like a protection blanket and he remembers its story.

“JJ!” Y/N’s voice echoed throughout the beach. At first it scared young JJ but soon he realized she just wanted him to look at something. “Look what I found!” The young girl almost shoved the thing in the boy’s face.

“Woah easy easy, what it that thing?”

“It’s a shark tooth, obviously. Look at it JJ, it even shines!” Y/N said proud of her discover. “I bet it was the ocean fairies.” She giggled softly and JJ laughed.

Later that year on JJ’s surprise birthday party Y/N didn’t had enough money for a expensive gift so she crafted a necklace it the tooth, hoping JJ would love it as much as she did. She even wrote him a little letter explaining why he was her best friend and how much she loved him.

He never took it off. Not even for a mere second and he kept the letter in his wallet behind a candid polaroid of him and Y/N that Pope managed to capture.

A snap of fingers brought the blond surfer boy back to reality, it was Pope, who was sitting next to Y/N and automatically his cheeks turned red as he mentally questioned himself if Pope noticed something.

“Are you high man?” Pope asked.

“Not yet. But I will be.”

“The only thing leaving you high is the paint as you use your arms to paint the walls!” Kiara said with a mandatory voice.

“What’s the fun in that Kie?” Y/N questioned her best friend, teasing her with a smirk as she winked at JJ.

“Can you two please stop being troublemakers just for two weeks?” Kiara begged and everyone laughed.

If there was one thing JJ knew about these upcoming two weeks was that he was fucked. How was he supposed to hide his feelings when he couldn’t even stop himself from staring at her like Y/N was the most beautiful this that ever walked on planet earth.

The ride came to an end and John B parked in front of the gracious Carrera’s beach house, the pogues agreed to fix it during the summer while they stayed at the house. Everything was supposed to be perfect and fun but JJ knew deep down this was the time were he had to come clean about his feelings. He couldn’t live with it no more, the only thing he needed was the perfect timing.

“There’s not enough rooms for everyone, we will have to share.” Kiara informed her friends as she walked inside, with a cooler.

Sarah and John B shared a look between them as if they were communicating telepathically. Pope was too entertained with himself to focus on the current conversation while Y/N and JJ were just waiting for the answers.

“We always share, it’s not a big deal Kie.” Y/N said sweetly as she carried her backpack. “I just want the room that faces the ocean.” The girl called it, before anyone did.

“That’s always my room.” JJ teased her.

“Guess it’s ours then.” Y/N fixed the problem. “See Kiara, easy.” She laughed walking up the stairs, the pogues following right after.

Only when JJ realized the room he chose to mess with Y/N just had one bed, perfectly placed in the middle of the room with a white sheet over it to protect it from the dust, facing the balcony, he started to understand how much he would need will power not to mess things up.

“Which said of the bed you want JJ?” Y/N asked, snapping him out off his daydreams. JJ awkwardly scratched the back of his head while his cheeks turned pink.

“The right side.” He said. He knew Y/N hated facing the door while she slept. “I know you’re still scared to face the door.” He laughed, while they both pulled the sheet from the bed.

“Fuck off.” Y/N giggled, laying down. “Ugh, I wish this was my house on day.” She stated, dreaming out loud. Y/N loved the ocean.

The blond boy hummed, he was sitting next to her while she had her eyes closed and felt the ocean breeze on her skin, it was lovely. JJ admired her, he loved to count the freckles on her sun kissed cheeks but only when she had her eyes closed, so she couldn’t see. He also wondered how it would feel like to trace them, even though it was normal for all of them to cuddle and show affection JJ still struggled with it due to his past abuse.

“Wake up guys! C’mon shit heads, you didn’t come to sleep, there’s work to do!” Pope stormed inside, scaring both Y/N and JJ who jumped on their feet.

[asa-sauce]

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard  

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face.  It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."  

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

[johnkrrasinski]

No Light, Dead End; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,812

Warning: SMUT!!!! slight dub-con. slight dark!steve but with feelingsᵀᴹ.

Summary: takes place after civil war and before infinity war because who is she? we don’t know her. after the avengers were divided due to the accords, you went on the run with steve, natasha and sam. during on the run, your relationship with steve had been going through a rough patch until one day, you decided to leave him. but he made sure that you knew who you belong to. 

a/n: this one is for @mariessecretfantasies​‘ 500 follower writing challenge! i chose prompt #8 ““No light, no light in your bright blue eyes. I never knew daylight could be so violent.” No Light, No Light- Florence + the Machine” i wanted to write something anguish but with a hint of darkness, just enough to spice it up. cause we all love possessive, slightly crazy steve, right? 😌 please leave a like & comment! enjoy. 

You stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You just had another quarrel with your grouchy boyfriend, Steve. He wasn’t always like this though. He used to be the heroic face of America after all… Used to be. He was a man with perseverance, sagacity, and altruism. All his life, he wanted nothing but to help others. To serve his country. But all that changed since the Accords.

The whole country decided to turn its back on their favorite golden boy aka Captain America. The man they used to look up to and call out for when miscreants exterminated the city and when aliens invaded the planet.

He was a man with assertive morals, never doubting his purpose and his will. And the whole world agreed. Until his best friend, Bucky Barnes was accused of the bombing of the UN in Vienna and was shortly located where he had been hiding for the past couple of years.

Steve Rogers had faith in his former best friend who could barely remember him when he said that he wasn’t the one who committed the crime. But the whole country didn’t. And so, through all the battle at the airport in Germany, and the unauthorized flight to Siberia and the grievous alteration of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes to a group of wanted felons, you stuck and stayed with him.

You had faith in the man you fell in love with a year ago and you knew his true heart. That deep down, no matter what the world paints him to be, you will always believe that he was still the same selfless hero. A battered soldier with nothing but pure intentions. He had lost so much in his stolen lifetime, so you understood his desperate wish to keep his best friend alive and out of heavily guarded prison.

And so, after the final battle with Tony Stark in Siberia, Steve and Bucky agreed that it would be best for everyone if Bucky went back to cryostasis chamber until Princess Shuri finds a way to fix him. King T’Challa had made peace with the fact that Zemo was the one who murdered his father, and he realized that Bucky was only a victim just as much as T’Chaka was, so he allowed him to stay in their land and agreed to mend the broken man.

After Bucky was back under the ice, Steve went back to The Raft and reunited with Sam, Wanda, Scott, and Clint, releasing them out of the Arctic prison facility. Whilst, Wanda and Vision agreed to lay low and started a secret life together in Scotland, Clint and Scott went back to their residents under prohibition.

You, Steve, Natasha, and Sam on the other hand, went on a run, as a group of uncivilized nomads, living in crummy motels and working vigilante jobs in the dark. You changed your looks and camouflaged within the crowds. And this was the turning point.

Your relationship with Steve hadn’t been the same since the fallout. He became rougher around the edges, sterner, and crueler. Some days, you couldn’t even remember what his genuine smile looked like anymore. How his eyes used to gleam so brightly, you could see your lucid reflection on them. How he’d hold you so tightly, you felt nothing but his warmth after he passionately made love to you for hours.

How did you get here? You had lost count of how many times you had fought with Steve Rogers. Small sparks of fire growing into a massive one, burning the entire house down. You could feel the heat all over the room when his voice roars so loud and your words cracked through your lips due to the unwanted tears threatening to fall.

Hurtful words were tossed, if the walls could talk, they’d tell you the lunacy that echoed night and day when you and Steve are going at it. You two were crazy, mad people in love. Or at least you used to be. Not only him who changed after the Accords, but so did you. You became more reticent, more practical, and more indignant.

Whenever you were on stealthy missions, Steve would always order you around like you were nothing but a fellow soldier. He’d talk down on you like there was no history between you when you disagree with him. Whenever you made the slightest mistake, he’d deprecate you like you were a delinquent, untamed child.

Sam and Natasha were aware of the lingering tension in the room when you two were on bad terms, but they didn’t know how excruciating it could get behind closed doors. Whenever you stared into his electric blue eyes, you didn’t find the same vivacity or earnestness anymore. All you sensed was rage and darkness.

Darkness so steep and hollow, that sometimes you’d find yourself getting lost and trapped in them. Like he could devour you and crush you by a single fist of his palm. Deep down, you wanted to get your Steve back. The considerate and faithful man you fell in love with. The man who would bring you flowers from his morning run because they just reminded him of you. The man who would kiss your shoulders in the morning to gently wake you up, because he didn’t have the heart to disturb your peaceful state, but he needed to hear your voice.

Often times, you’d wonder if it was still possible to go back to the way you used to be. But he had been so hardened by the arduous circumstances now, that it sounds like a fairytale if you could go more than 5 minutes to have a decent conversation.

“Fuck you, Steve! You don’t fucking get to tell me what to do, you hear me?”

“Yes, I do! I’m your Captain. Watch your language.”

“I don’t fucking care. You are not the Captain anymore. You ungrateful asshole! I can’t believe I stuck with you after you became a criminal. You don’t fucking deserve it. You don’t fucking deserve me.”

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart? You’re gonna run back to the compound and sign the Accords? Well, guess what? The first thing they’re gonna do as soon as you show your pretty little face, is they’d cuff you up. And when they lock you up in the Raft, I’m not going back to save you ass.”

“I don’t fucking need you to. I’d rather be locked up in the middle of the Atlantic ocean rather than spending one more goddamn second with your grumpy, irritating ass.”

He stayed silent. His back was to you now. His shoulder slumped as he leaned his hands on the table. He listened to your hasty movements as you stormed into the bedroom that you hadn’t shared in a while. Since you two had been at each other’s throats nearly every day, he’d sleep on the couch while you get the bed.

The truth is, Steve still loved you just as deeply. But things had changed, and he couldn’t pretend that everything was okay just because he was still madly in love with you. He had to be tougher now, he constantly had to watch his back. He couldn’t afford to be distracted even for just one second when the whole world was looking for him and the entire country wanted him penalized.

He also had to be hard on you, because you knew that if any of you let your guard down, you’d be doomed. You could be caught. Or worse, you could be killed. Not only the villains who wanted you dead now… Thaddeus Ross had made it clear that if it’s necessary, he wouldn’t hesitate on shooting any of you on sight.

So he tried to forget the man that he was, stripped himself out of the Captain America mantle, and lived as Nomad now. He was fine with that, although it took him a while to get used to the slummy hotel rooms or sometimes, abandoned safe houses. And Nomads don’t maintain a lovey-dovey relationship and kiss each other dearly while cleaning each other off in the shower.

No, Nomads creep in the shadow and have each other’s backs in combats. Even if it means one of them had to be the meaner guy. As long as his allies were safe and returned in one piece, then that’s all that matters. He couldn’t care any less if they no longer liked him as a comrade.

And the thought of losing you terrified the shit out of his soul. The kind that he couldn’t shake away because somewhere, deep down, he knew it was inevitable. This line of work didn’t promise him safety insurance. Literally and figuratively, now that he was no longer claimed by the government or the Avengers.

So if talking to you as if you were nothing but a fellow soldier will remind you that you both no longer had the luxury to plan your next date night or cuddle in the sheets at night to keep each other warm, then he was going to do what’s necessary.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you pack up your bags and stepped out of the room with your travel bag in your shoulder. You didn’t have that many personal belongings anyway. When he stole the Quinjet, you couldn’t go back to the compound to pack up all of your stuff and say your farewell to the rest who stayed, so along the way, you bought just enough clothes to have something to wear other than your battle gear. So most of your things were left in the compound, just like the entire journey over 5 years with the Avengers.

Steve and you had said a lot of things neither of you really meant when things were heated up, but he could live with that as long as you were safe and he could keep an eye on you. He’d let you have your moment of tranquility, knowing that when daylight comes, you’ll have to fight another day and bleed.

He thought that tonight was just another night where you two claw each other’s skin but would act as if nothing happened last night in front of Sam and Natasha. You had threatened to leave more times than he could count but you never did it. Just like the rest of the things you said. Meaningless contempt.

But this time, you were out of your mind. You really could be such a force to be reckoned with sometimes. That’s why he fell in love with you in the first place, but it would often drive him crazy too. And not the good kind.

He turned around and saw you sprinting toward the door. You were dressed in all black; black jacket, black shirt, black jeans, and black sneakers. He was confused at what you were doing but he maintained his calm posture and stayed in the same spot where he had been standing, with his hands on his hips.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t spend one more goddamn second with you. I’m done.”

Steve didn’t even try to hide his panic. He really thought you were joking or maybe you were going somewhere to calm your head, then you’d come back. But no, you were really leaving this time.

“Hey, hey! Don’t be fucking ridiculous. You are not going anywhere.”

“Yes, I am. And you can’t stop me.”

“Stop acting stupid and just calm down for a sec.” He reached out for you but you flinched, not wanting to hear any more of his bollocks.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Steve. Before I break every single one of your fingers.” You swatted his hand.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. You saw it in his eyes, the flash of that shift. The one that you had been seeing a lot these days. The alteration from Steve Rogers to Captain America. Or more suitably, America’s Golden Boy to The Most Wanted Criminal. You’d be lying if you weren’t a tad frightened by that darkness in him, but you weren’t going to lay it out on your hands and present it to him. You were no coward.

Rest in peace, to your naive bravado… Your headlessness had backfired.

Steve slammed you into the wall behind you as he grabbed you by the throat, inching his face closer to yours. You could hear his labored breathing, sweeping on your skin, his eyes glared at you, locking you in place.

Your hands immediately went to his, trying to break free out of his tightening grip, cutting off your airway. “S-Steve…” You tried to get him off of you by striking his face, but he still wouldn’t relent. He immediately dragged you to the couch, as you nearly stumbled on your feet.

“You think you can just run and leave me? Stupid girl. Looks like you need a reminder of your place.”

“St- Steve! Stop!” As your back hit the couch. You tried to stand on your feet but was abruptly stopped by his hand on your shoulders, pushing you back down. “Shut the fuck up.” He grabbed your waist as he turned you around, so you were reclined on your chest. His hand immediately went to grab a fistful of your hair as he whispered into your ears, “you really wanna push my limits huh? Riling me up like a stupid little brat, thinking you can get away with it. Hell no. I’m gonna show you the consequences of your foolishness, little girl.”

Then he slammed you back down as he immediately pulled down your pants with your underwear along with it. You thrashed your body, trying to push him away but it was futile. Steve lifted up your hips, so you were standing on your knees. Then you felt a harsh smack on your ass, eliciting a raw yelp out of you. He did it once more, and more, and more, until your tears started to leak out of the corner of your eyes. You lost your ability to speak, trembling from the excruciating pain.

Just when you thought the torment was over, you heard the clank of his buckle as you instantly turned around to see what he was doing. The hastened glance was enough to verify your fear. You immediately pushed yourself on your hands and attempted to get up but you couldn’t as he quickly pushed you back down with his massive hand and held you there. His other hand went to his cock as he lined himself up to your entrance, intruding your body violently without any warning.

His hand that was on your back, went to your other hand along with the other, to pin them behind your back as strictly as a cuff. Then he began to drive his hips into you until he was fully seated. He groaned due to the pleasure. He slammed back into you and out. He repeated his motion until you couldn’t help but feel the tightening coil inside of you. He startled you in your hazy state with another spank on your ass. You squealed.

“I can feel your cunt tightening around me, little girl. See? I told you you could never leave me. You belong to me. Only I can make you feel this good.” He gritted between his vigorous thrusts. You couldn’t even focus on his mortifying words anymore when you could feel your climax was approaching. You were so close. A few more slams by his hips and then, you fell apart.

You moaned in pleasure as your release was prolonged by his still unrelenting thrusts, attempting to reach his own climax. You closed your eyes in bliss, as you could feel the fight in you had drained. You couldn’t think of anything else or remember the way you ended up being fucked hard on this couch. You were still lying in the same position, with your face pressed on the couch and hands restrained behind your back as you heard Steve groaned from behind you.

You could feel his warm cum unleashed deep inside you as Steve pushed a few shallow thrusts to deplete every drop of semen. When he was completely finished, he pulled out of you and unloose your wrists as he sat on the couch. You were paralyzed. Despite him not holding you down anymore, you still couldn’t find the energy or will in yourself to move or carry on with your plan.

You were too wearied to start any altercation anymore so you just laid there as your eyes started to droop. Before you were completely dazed out, a gravel voice whispered to you like the sound of the wind blowing; subtle but crystal. “I’m not done with you yet, babygirl. I’ve got all night to remind you who you belong to.”

[celestialmark]

Lacuna - Part Three

- Characters: Johnny Suh x reader, members of nct  - Category: single parent au, fluff, slight angst.  - Word count: 6.3k  - Warnings: - - Navigation: prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue  - Author’s notes: ACK SHE IS FINALLY HERE SKSKKSK if u noticed, I'm adding an extra part to the series ksksksk as always, this series is dedicated to you bub! love u heaps. 

“How was it?” Taeyong asks, taking a sip from the cup of coffee you had just made him.

You ponder on the question for a few seconds before you take the seat opposite him on the dining table. “Pretty well. I think Youngho really likes him.”

Taeyong nods knowingly in relief. He studies your distracted expression before proceeding with his next question. “And how do you feel?”

“Good. I’m happy if Youngho is,” you reply almost too quickly while you play with the ceramic mug nestled in your palms.

Taeyong’s brow shoots upwards and you begin to hate the fact that you really were incapable of hiding anything from him. “So how do you really feel?”

You let out an exasperated sigh this time and the familiar sensation of heaviness comes back to sit on your chest. Ever since that day at the playground, you have been anything but at peace. Seeing Youngho elated meeting his father finally after four years should make you the happiest mother on earth, but whenever your thoughts trace back to that day, worries and concerns cloud your mind.

“I should be happy right?” You start, trailing your eyes to the wooden table. “But.. I don’t know. I feel restless Yong. Johnny has every right to meet his son and that was the primary reason why I allowed it to happen in the first place. But now what? What happens next? Is he going to stick around for Youngho? He’s going to be the next in line for their company– He has so much on his plate. I–” your voice drops when your thoughts run haywire and you don’t know which words to say next.

Taeyong listens to you silently and decides to never let you know how it crushes him inside to see you like this.

“He came back here for other reasons yet I come along and tell him he’s a father of a four year old. I don’t want to impose that role on him so fast nor do I want him to feel he has the responsibility of looking after Youngho because I can do it by myself just fine. I want him to have the choice..”

“Y/n, of course he’s going to want to take responsibility of Youngho. He’s the dad, and any sane person on this planet would feel the need to take care of and protect their own child,” Taeyong replies calmly, making you look up at him. “You’re forgetting about the kind of person Johnny is. We’re talking about the person who once contemplated abandoning everything he’s ever wanted in his whole life just to be with you. Remember? He wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for you convincing him otherwise.”

Taeyong’s words are like daggers to your heart and you almost choke on the impending tears when you remember how difficult it was to let Johnny go.

“So what makes you think he’s going to leave his son behind?”

It’s not often that you have these kinds of conversation with Taeyong, the last one being five years ago when you were absolutely in fragments the day Johnny left. But whenever you do, you always expect Taeyong to leave you speechless with everything he has to say because he was always right, just like now.

The familiar ring of the doorbell echoes in the house and you get up immediately to hide the fact that Taeyong’s words stirred the things you’ve buried deep down back to life.

Through the glass door, you find Youngho in Johnny’s arms and they’re laughing with each other, probably about something Johnny said. Sliding the glass door open, you catch the attention of the two and Youngho’s eyes immediately brighten up when he sees you.

“Mommy!” He outstretches his arms out to you and you instantly take him from Johnny’s hold and hug him tight. You notice the way Johnny’s scent lingers on your son and you try hard not to let the distinct smell affect you too much as it sends you through waves of nostalgia.

“How was school?” You murmur into his ear, his arms never leaving your neck.

“Really good! I have a surprise for you in my bag,” Youngho replies, excitement evident in his voice. “And Daddy brought me my favourite fruit snacks when he came to collect me so I’m extra happy.”

Your eyes involuntarily widen at the term that leaves Youngho’s lips for the very first time and your gaze flies to Johnny who’s smiling bashfully as he rubs the nape of his neck. You melt at the thought of Johnny feeling ecstatic for being acknowledged by his son and the thought of Youngho finally having someone to call his dad. Taeyong’s words reverberate in your mind and before you know it, a glimmer of hope finds its way to comfort you.

“Thank you for picking Youngho up from school today,” you say to Johnny who’s still caught up with Youngho calling him his dad.

“My pleasure,” he replies. Youngho lets go of you then so that he can twist his body to look at Johnny. “I’ll see you soon?” Johnny says.

“Are you going to bring me to school tomorrow again too?” Youngho asks innocently, eyes expectant.

Johnny pauses before he glances at you. “Of course. If mommy is okay with it?”

You try your best not to flinch when Johnny directs at you and you wish he had used your name instead.

“Mommy is it okay?” Youngho asks you, breaking you out of your trance.

“Of course baby,” you reply.

Youngho beams at you then and his smile motivates you even further to give it your all to keep it. Taeyong appears by the hallway and Youngho instantly scurries off your arms to go and greet his favourite uncle.

“Hi Johnny,” Taeyong says as he scoops Youngho into his arms.

Johnny gestures at Taeyong with a nod, “Hey Tae.”

“I’ll take Youngho inside first,” Taeyong announces. “Thanks for bringing him home man.”

When Youngho smiles at Taeyong, he whizzes Youngho away to leave you and Johnny alone. You watch Taeyong’s back disappears behind a door and when he’s gone, you turn back to Johnny who has his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans.

“I hope spending time with Youngho isn’t interfering with your schedules,” you say, genuinely worried. “You must be so busy.” 

Johnny shakes his head right away. “Not at all. Don’t worry about it. There’s so much I need to make up for, I don’t wanna miss any chance I get.”

You give him a weak smile. “Johnny I hope you don’t feel you have to do this, you know–”

Johnny is already nodding at you. “I know y/n. I want to though–” He’s peering into your eyes and you can’t quite point a finger on what his eyes want to tell you.

“I want to be his dad.”

You blink at him in utter shock but his words bring your raging concerns and previous worries to rest. And you let out a huge exhale when the comfort relieves all the contemplations that’s been keeping you up at night. You didn’t know the words Johnny has just said were the ones you were in desperate need of.

“Okay,” is all you can say, still stunned.

“And I want to say thank you, for letting me meet him,” Johnny adds, voice genuine and lips smiling.

“Johnny, he’s your son. Of course you have all the right to meet him,” you answer.

Johnny shrugs his shoulders and shift in his spot. “I know that. But it mustn’t have been easy on your part to let Youngho meet someone he’s never met all his life and to even introduce me as his dad.”

You nod understandingly, gaining a better insight to Johnny’s thoughts. Taeyong was right. You really were starting to forget the Johnny you knew from before. Because up until now you’ve forgotten how he always managed to reassure you in some sort of way. His reassurance only makes you believe even more that allowing Johnny back into your life was the right decision. If not for you, but definitely for your son.

“Hey, everything is good, he really likes you,” you say in attempts to lighten up the mood.

Johnny chuckles, the sound he emits sending goosebumps all over your skin. “I’m glad. I want to beat Taeyong and be his only favourite.”

You laugh at this and so does Johnny. Silence follows after.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Is it okay if I pick you up from work some time? With Youngho?”

And it feels just like nine years ago. Everything happening at this moment reminds you of the very first time Johnny had asked you to go on your first date with him; a shy smile grazing his lips, his eyes imploring yours as he rocks back and forth on his toes. The nostalgia floods even more and for a second, you swear that the butterflies have come back.

You smile at Johnny when you manage to bring yourself back to the present, loving the featherweight settling in your insides.

“Okay.”

“How are things at home?” Doyoung asks over dinner, your schedules finally aligning with each other’s to make up for the time you bailed on him last minute. 

You swallow your noodles after munching on them, wiping your lips with a napkin, “Really good. Youngho’s doing great.” 

Doyoung nods with a smile, leaning across the table with a napkin between his fingers to wipe the corner of your lip which you had missed. Your eyes widen for a moment as he sits back in his seat, “That’s good. I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe I should come and visit soon,” he replies casually, as if what he just did didn’t just throw you off the edge. 

You play it off with a smile, silently asking yourself if Doyoung did indeed expect more to come out of this friendship than you did. “Of course. He’d be thrilled to see you.” 

“What is he into these days? I should bring over a present while I'm at it.” 

You chuckle, the familiarity of Doyoung’s nature settling in again. “There’s no need Doie, you don’t have to get him anything.” 

Doyoung shrugs, “I want to. I want to win his heart over.” 

You raise a brow as you watch him take a big gulp of water in one go. He’s avoiding your eyes and it makes you suspect if those words were meant to come out or not, or if there was so much more laid hidden underneath them. You don’t want to assume anything, but Taeyong’s words keep eating at you and though you’ve considered asking Doyoung straight upfront, you always seem to find yourself deciding against it for fear of making it awkward between you two or even worse, losing a friend you really liked being around with. Doyoung was good company and the many times you’ve spent with each other was proof that he was a friend who supported you in all aspects of your life. 

But a part of you, the bigger part of you, can’t help but wish Taeyong was wrong. 

You decide to drop the subject when you see Doyoung shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dinner continues on like that, the both of you carrying on like he didn’t say what he just did, talking about little occurrences of your lives you hope the other would find interesting, maybe just to pass time and to ignore the elephant that’s sitting in the room. 

Doyoung drops you home like he always does, jogs over to the passenger seat to open the door for you so that you can exit his car. He does something different tonight though because you see him offering a hand out to you. It’s very Doyoung-like, you think and as you take his hand and step out of the car, you can’t help but feel his hand linger in yours, the seconds lasting too long for your liking, so you slowly pull away. 

You use your retracted hand to rub your arm, suddenly growing conscious under his gaze and he’s in the midst of opening his mouth to say something when the headlights of a car emerging from the distance shine directly into both of your visions. 

You see Johnny coming out of the driver’s seat not too long after he pulls the brakes and before he sees you both, he’s jogging over to the backseat. Youngho comes into view then as Johnny unbuckles him from his carseat and into his arms. Johnny smiles the second he sees you but the moment doesn’t last too long when he sees Doyoung beside you. 

“Mommy!” 

Youngho is asking to be put down and Johnny complies by setting him on the ground. The child zooms his way over to you, arms outstretched to greet you in a hug. Doyoung watches the whole thing unfold in front of him, a burst of questions running through his head when he gets a clearer view of Johnny walking towards where you both were. 

“My baby! I missed you!” you exclaim as soon as Youngho lands in your arms, hugging him tight as you lift him up. “Did you have fun today?” Youngho continues to hug you tight by the neck, melting your heart knowing that he had missed you as much as you missed him. 

“So much fun,” Youngho replies into your shoulder. You see Johnny standing in front of you and you shoot him a grateful smile. He returns it to you, a smile even bigger than yours. 

“Doyoung,” Johnny clears his throat. “It’s good to see you.” 

Doyoung blinks out of his daze. “J-Johnny. I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

You realise the situation then, mentally face palming yourself when you catch the knowing or teasing look in Johnny’s face that’s clearly directed at you with a crooked smile on his face. You shut your eyes to avoid his teasing gazes, remembering the night at the gala where you practically pretended it had been the first time you met him. 

“Mister Doie!” Youngho calls and he waves at him from your shoulder. 

Doyoung momentarily takes his eyes off Johnny to entertain Youngho who's now grinning at him and gazing at him with big wide eyes, smiling at the nickname. “Hey little one.” 

Growing too uncomfortable in the situation, you immediately try to get out of it. “Johnny, can you take Youngho inside first? I’ll follow after.” 

You’re not sure why Johnny’s grin is growing wider by the minute and you’re raising a confused brow at him when he takes Youngho from you. You fish your bag for your keys and when you find them, you give it to him, his smile still too prominent for your liking. 

“Baby I’ll see you in a bit okay?” 

“Okay mommy.” 

“Okay y/n.” 

You’re frowning at Johnny when he responds to your statement that was clearly directed to Youngho. Even Youngho is perplexed that he snaps his head to his dad, who appears to have no notion of what he had just said, his gaze still on you, too soft and too gentle, as if you had the entire world to gawk at right behind your back. But it was just you, frowning at him, and it was less likely that he’d be staring at Doyoung like that too. 

You make a face at him, your features taught as you silently signal him to take Youngho into the house. He blinks once, the smile never leaving his lips and finally tears his eyes off you to direct his attention to Doyoung who’s been watching silently this whole time with widened eyes. 

“Doyoung, I’ll get going first. I’ll see you at the office.” 

Johnny doesn't wait for a response and proceeds to walk away from the two of you with Youngho watching you from his shoulder. 

You laugh awkwardly to break the silence that lingers between you two when Johnny and Youngho are no longer in sight. Doyoung nods slowly, trying to make an understanding of the situation but no matter how many times he’s tried to come up with theories, none of them made sense. All he knows or assumes, is that you and Johnny had gotten very close since your first meeting at the gala, so much so that he’s even looking after your son now.

You know you’re not in any way, indebted to explain yourself, or the current situation, but you feel like you owe it to Doyoung anyway because if there was one thing with Doyoung, he had always been honest with you. 

“Hit me with it,” you say, facing him as you secretly brace for the worst. You’re not even sure why you’re nervous but the slight tremble at the tips of your fingers is enough to indicate that what you’d be talking about next will change your relationship with Doyoung forever. 

“Johnny?” 

You nod slowly, pursing your lips together. It wasn’t a full question, but the mere mention of the name was all it took for you to understand what he meant. 

“Johnny, he’s, he’s Youngho’s dad.” 

Doyoung’s already round eyes grow even more round, his mouth hanging agape in the process. Silence hangs in the air again and Doyoung’s blinking into nothing, as if trying to put the pieces together to form a coherent picture, but there were still too many information missing. 

“I thought you didn’t know each other?” Doyoung quizzes, brows knitting together in the middle. “At the gala?” 

You smile sheepishly, “Well you see, I was so stunned to see him there. I didn’t expect him to be there at all since it had been so long since we saw each other last, so when you introduced us... I really didn’t know what to say.” 

Doyoung blinks hard and shakes his head once as if to shake the confusion away from his head. He holds his palm up to you as a signal to give him a few minutes to comprehend so you press your lips together in a thin line. You wonder how much more information you’re going to have to give him and you ponder if it would even be necessary knowing that your current situation with Johnny had nothing to do with him or your friendship. 

“So... wait. Johnny told me he’d been in the States the past five years,” Doyoung trails off, finally looking at you again, his eyes still hazy with confusion. “Does that mean...” 

You nod to confirm his theory. “Johnny only found out about Youngho when he came back.”

Doyoung breathes a big chunk of air, his shoulders rising at the same time his chest does before he releases it through a sigh, slowly comprehending the situation. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks genuinely. 

You blink, the question taking you aback a little not because of the way he asked but because it was the last thing you thought he’d ever ask. “I didn’t really see any relevance in telling you.” And it sounds harsh, but it was true.

“Of course it’s relevant y/n!” You’re caught by surprise when he raises his voice slightly, the flinching of your body giving you away and when Doyoung sees this, he pauses to recollect himself. “Y/n- I-” 

“I like you, okay,” Doyoung admits quietly, lowering his head to the ground after. “I’m not sure if you could tell, but I've been trying to give you hints for the past two years we’ve known each other.” 

So Taeyong really was right. 

Youngho is the first person that pops in your mind. 

“Doie, I have a son.” 

Doyoung takes a step closer to you, “I know that. And it never mattered to me.” 

You feel your heart shatter because even before this very moment, even before Doyoung had to spell it out you, you already knew the answer and you knew it wasn’t going to change. 

“Doie-” 

“I know y/n, I know you don’t feel the same,” Doyoung cuts you off, a hint of dejection in his features under the moonlight. “I can feel it. But, if you’d just let me, if you’d just give me a chance.” 

Doyoung’s voice is delicately laced with a tinge desperation and you can’t bear to look at him longer because this was a side to him you didn’t want to see. 

“If you’d just give me a chance to change your mind.. That’s all I want.” 

As promised, Johnny is waiting outside the gates of your preschool with Youngho’s hand in his. Youngho waves at you energetically as soon as you come into view, exiting the building after what you felt to be a really long day. Thank God it was Friday and there was Youngho in the distance to welcome you to it. 

You exhale the biggest sigh of the day when Youngho greets you with a hug. His hugs always made everything better. You in your crouched position, relishing in the way Youngho’s small palms are patting your back gently, knowing you really liked it when he did so, for who knows how long until the fatigue from the day dissipates. 

“Rough day?” Johnny asks when you let go of Youngho and stand back up, extending his hand to you where you find a bottle of water. 

You take it from him, a smile lifting on your face, already feeling so much better and even better when you realise that he’s already left the cap of the bottle loose so that you didn’t have to struggle. “Yeah. I'm so happy it’s over.” 

Johnny smiles and studies you as you take a sip. “Do you want to go straight home then? Or would you be up for a little detour?” 

In all fairness, you were exhausted, but the sun is shining so nicely in the sky and the expectant glint in your son’s eyes makes it painfully difficult to deprive him of a Friday to remember rather than lounging at home. So you push past the tempting thoughts of rest. 

“Well what do you have on the agenda?” You tease with a grin. 

You watch in silence as he takes the bottle of water from your hand when he’s sure you’ve finished drinking and recaps it, taking it upon himself to also unlatch the strap of your bag from your shoulder, your belongings now firm in his palms. 

And you hate it.

Because you can’t help but compare the similar mannerisms to Doyoung. And can’t help but feel way more with Johnny. 

Johnny shrugs his shoulders, the boyish grin on his face reminding you of old times. “Not much. I was thinking ice cream. And a stroll in the park?” 

And you hate it again. Because you almost forgot that if there was anyone who knew you better than yourself, it would be Johnny, even better than Taeyong. And he knew, more than anyone else, how you took pleasure in little things, in simple hobbies that didn’t require much thought. 

“That sounds good,” you finally manage to utter after a flood of memories rush past. 

Johnny smiles and it reaches his eyes. 

And you hate it because under the sun, he looked absolutely breathtaking like this. 

Johnny pulls up to the same park he first met Youngho in. And as you both walk side by side one another, a wave of emotions hit him, watching Youngho lead the way with his ice cream in his hand, skipping along happily because looking back now, he and Youngho had come such a long way in such a short span of time. He can’t help but glance to his side where he finds you licking your ice cream quietly, the smile on your face a clear indication of your satisfaction. Johnny thinks that you’re the only reason why he’s gotten along so well with Youngho in the first place.

“Ice cream good?” Johnny asks, starting up a conversation first.

“So good,” you reply shortly, swiping your tongue across your lower lip. “Has ice cream always tasted this good?”

Johnny chuckles, redirecting his attention to his own ice cream. “So what was life in the States like?” You ask absentmindedly, trying to imagine his life there.

“Different,” Johnny replies curtly. “But good. There’s a lot to see there actually. I just didn’t have enough time to since the five years just revolved around the company.” He glances at you again as you train your eyes to Youngho who has now reached the gates of the playground. “But I know I prefer it here.”

You nod slowly, not noticing his gaze and what his words implied, too focused on keeping an eye on your son who’s busy gobbling his ice cream down as fast as he can so that he can finally entertain himself at the playground.

“That’s good,” you acknowledge, munching on your cone. “No place like home, yeah?”

Johnny knows he’s gazing at you for far too long and that any minute that you’d decide to turn to him, you’d catch him and maybe even the longing in his eyes but that was the last thing in his mind right now.

“Yeah.. no place like home.”

And you don’t catch that because Johnny at this point mumbled it to himself. 

“How did you and Doyoung meet?” 

Johnny anticipates your response, slightly fearful that he’d stepped over the line too soon. But he almost sees no change in your expression when you both sit down on a bench overlooking the playground after having finished your ice creams. 

“Two years ago, at a party, we had a common friend,” you answer, watching Youngho come down excitedly on the slide. 

Johnny finds himself nodding, memories of the encounter at your house replaying in his mind. And as if reading his mind, you turn your whole body towards him, your right leg bending up on the bench with your arm propped up on the backrest. “Speaking of, what was that all about the other night?” you ask curiously, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“What was all about what night?” Johnny asks innocently, avoiding your eyes by staring straight ahead even though he knew what you really meant. 

“That night when you met Doyoung,” you start. “Something was off with you.” 

“What did I do?” He asks again, finally turning his head to look at you. 

You shrug, struggling to describe his behaviour from that night. Was it all in your head? “I don’t know.. you were like.. really, um, smiley?” 

Johnny laughs for a second and you’re beginning to think that maybe it really was all in your imagination, that maybe you were beginning to be delusional. “You know what, forget it.” You turn away from him then, trying to distract yourself from what you just tried to confront. 

Johnny chuckles this time and you feel him scoot closer to you as you try your best not to be bothered. “Man, you’re still the sharp person I remember.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. “Is that a compliment? Anyone could tell you were being weird Johnny.” 

Oh how he loved it when you said his name and hearing it coming from you makes it so hard for him not to smile even more when he’s trying to explain himself on a more serious note. 

You see him grinning from the corner of your eye, “You just can’t take me seriously, can you?” 

Johnny purses his lips in hopes of hiding his smile but it’s almost impossible when he sees you almost sulking like this. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He scoots even more closer to you, you can feel his shoulder bump against yours. “You want to know why I was behaving like I was that night?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.” 

Adorable, he thinks. 

Johnny finds Youngho amongst the children playing in the playground and smiles once again before answering, 

“Because I knew that I had so much more advantages than Doyoung.” 

You frown but don’t budge, “What does that even mean? You make it sound like it’s some sort of competition.” 

“It always is if it involves someone else liking you.” 

Johnny’s second guessing himself suddenly, wondering if he’d revealed too much in one day, or better yet, if he’d indirectly confessed something too early. 

“How did you know that?” 

“He told me.” 

“He did?”

“Yeah. He didn’t have to though, it was pretty obvious.” 

“I.. I only found out that night.” 

Johnny looks at you. “Really?” 

You nod slowly, Doyoung’s words replaying in your head. “Yeah. I didn’t know.. Taeyong had to tell me. It was only then that I started to think that maybe. Turns out Taeyong was right.” 

“Wow, and you’re still as dense as I remember you to be,” Johnny teases, grinning, staring straight ahead. 

You nudge him with your elbow, earning a laugh from him. “Hey, I’m not that dense. I just didn’t want to assume.”

Johnny pretends to roll his eyes, “Right.” He takes a breath, his smile slowly disappearing when a thought comes to mind. He runs a palm on his thigh and prepares himself to hear the answer to what he’s about to ask next. “Well, now that you know.. how do you feel about it?” 

You shrug again, uncrossing your arms and settling to play with your fingers, bringing your head low. “I don’t know. Me and Doyoung are friends.. And it’s just a bit more complicated with Youngho in the picture, though he said he didn��t mind.” You sigh when you remember the look on Doyoung’s face, “He said he just wanted a chance, that’s it.” 

A gush of wind blows and it carries the momentary silence with it. 

“Are you going to give it to him?” 

You turn to look at Johnny who’s already staring at you. 

“I don’t know.”

It’s a Tuesday evening when you begin to worry about Youngho. Having left work immediately to pick up your child, you find him weak and pale by the nurse’s office of his school. Youngho has just vomited for the fourth time since coming home and thought he insists he’s feeling okay, he certainly didn’t look it. 

Youngho was definitely stubborn, just like his dad.

When the evening deepens into the night, you stay with Youngho in his bedroom, keeping a close eye on him and keeping supplies close in case he needed to empty his system again. He’s half conscious and you break at the sight of him so weak and so helpless. You come to a conclusion to bring him to the hospital if he didn’t feel any better soon. 

Youngho opens his eye slowly and takes off the damp towel resting on his forehead, “Mommy, toilet.” 

You’re quick to draw back his covers and place his slippers by his feet. “How are you feeling ranger?” 

“A little better,” he croaks but you’re not convinced. 

You let Youngho lead the way and decide to grab a fresh shirt from his closet before following him closely. Not even a second passes that you briefly take your eyes off of him, you hear a thud in the distance and scream for his name when you find him unconscious on the floor. You try not to panic but that’s impossible to do when Youngho isn’t responding to your calls, when he isn’t opening his eyes no matter how vigorously you shake him in your arms. Youngho is sweating and his peripheries are cold to touch. You scoop him completely in your arms and bolt right outside your front door. 

Your hands are shaking as you strap him to his seat, too unconscious to even keep his head upright and you’re trying so hard not to cry at the sight of him. You shut his door once he’s secure and you’re scrambling for the driver’s seat. You fish your phone out of your pocket and dial the first number you see through the blur of your vision. You wipe your eyes aggressively with the back of your free hand as you wait for your call to be answered and as soon as it is, you spare no time. 

“Y/n?”

“Youngho passed out. I’m bringing him to the hospital.”  

You’re fully crying by the time you reach the emergency room, watching helplessly as the doctors wheel your son away from you. And you follow them blindly until you can no longer proceed once they pull the curtains around his designated cubicle. The worst possible scenarios come to mind and no matter how hard you try to block them out, you begin to think that you’ve lacked as a mother, blaming yourself for this very situation. 

“Y/n!” 

You turn and see Doyoung entering the emergency department, a sigh of relief leaving you at the comforting sight of someone familiar. He grabs a hold of your arms as soon as he reaches you and you know he’s trying to calm you down. 

“Take a deep breath, tell me what happened.” 

Your breathing is staggering and there’s huge droplets of tears falling down your cheeks, but you try your best follow Doyoung’s instructions, “Youngho, he, he wasn’t feeling well all day. He vomited the whole evening and he passed out thirty minutes ago—“

“Okay okay y/n,” Doyoung tries to match his breathing with yours so that he can train you to slow down with him, his grip on your arms firm and eyes trained straight into yours. “I need you to calm down for me. Youngho is going to be okay, you’ve brought him to the right place. He’ll be okay.” 

“Doie what if—“ 

“Shh, he’s going to be okay.” 

And true enough, Youngho was okay. You watch him by his bedside, sleeping soundly, a needle dug into his arm with fluids infusing into his vein. He looks a lot better, with the colour returning to his face and his hands now warm to touch. He didn’t look like he was in pain anymore and you’re tugging at his covers to make sure he’s warm. Youngho’s room is quiet, having been transferred to his own room after clearing the emergency room an hour after arrival. While Doyoung is out to buy some food, your hear the door slide open behind you and Johnny emerges from behind it. 

Another wave of relief washes over you at the sight of him and you stand immediately from your seat. You smile weakly at him and he tries to do the same but to no avail, switching his gaze from you to Youngho. 

“What happened?” He whispers, examining Youngho when he reaches the side of the bed. 

“Gastroenteritis the doctor said. He was vomiting all night because of it and the reason why he passed out was because of dehydration,” you reply in a low voice to not wake your son. “They said he’ll be okay.” 

Johnny nods but his jaw remains tight. He should be relieved, he knows he should be, after all his son was okay, but there’s a sour taste in his mouth and an even bigger thought eating him alive.

“Y/n, can we talk outside?” 

Johnny’s voice is emotionless and his eyes are empty from where you’re watching him. You’re unsure but you agree anyway, fully convinced nothing would be as scary as the initial conversation you had with him when he found out he was Youngho’s dad. 

When you slide the door closed behind you, you’re met by Johnny who’s in the midst of turning to face you. The long corridor is desolate and quiet and it somehow matches the way Johnny is gazing at you with empty eyes. There was definitely something wrong. He hasn’t smiled the moment he set foot here and you kind of wished you hadn’t picked on him for being so smiley that night, preferring that side of him way more than the one you're facing now. He looks sad and somewhat.. lost. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

“What?” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” Johnny repeats again, this time a little bit louder but his expression unchanging. “Why is it that I had to find out from Taeyong that you brought Youngho to the hospital?” 

Oh. 

“Johnny no-” 

“And why is it that I met Doyoung on the way here?” He cuts you off and you silently watch him slowly becoming worked up, huffing every breath now and shoulders rising and falling with each one. 

That’s when you see it. The utter disappointment in his eyes. 

“Was he...” Johnny’s voice is quiet all of a sudden. “Was he the first person you called?” 

You feel the extreme need to explain yourself because you realise then what Johnny was implying at and you feel so guilty it makes you sick to the stomach. “Yes but- Johnny let me explain.” 

Johnny remains silent and just stares at you. You take this as your cue to continue. 

“I panicked okay. I didn't know what to do. And Doyoung’s number was the first one on my phone and I called him on a whim because I just wanted someone to know.. I just wanted someone with me because I was so scared.” 

“And you didn’t think of me even for a second?” Johnny asks, the hurt too evident in his low voice it makes you choke. Your eyes are already swollen from earlier but you feel another batch of tears threatening to fall. How many times do you have to hurt Johnny until you finally get it right?

“Y/n, Youngho is my son,” Johnny reiterates. 

You nod in defeat, biting your lower lip. “I know I know. I’m really sorry.” 

Johnny sighs, bringing his head low, “Is this it? Do you choose him?” 

You frown slightly. “Choose?” 

Johnny takes a step closer to you and you heart beats erratically in anticipation. His eyes are focused on your hand and when he finally takes it in his, you feel all of the hairs on your skin stand because not only were his fingers cold from being outside, but also because Johnny’s touch always had that same effect on you. 

He looks up at you again, eyes sad and features worn. 

“I don’t want you to have to tell me go away again,” he says lowly, his voice delicate, eyes revealing broken pieces of him. “Y/n..” 

“I want you to choose me this time and ask me to stay.” 

[aliendes]

Natural Borns Chapter Six

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A/N: ahh, ok so I feel like I hit a wall with this chapter. I’m not super proud of it, but I needed to get these backstories out of the way in order for the story to progress. The scene with YN and Jin I wrote a long time ago, and it was like finding puzzle pieces to put together to lead up to it. It’s entirely insignificant to the story, but it was a sweet scene that was part of the initial story I created. With that said.. Please let me know what you think of it. I can’t even begin to explain how uplifting and motivating your comments are. When readers leave feedback, it’s one of the driving motivators for writers to continue writing. So thank you for everyone who has been reading and continues to comment and reblog. It means a lot. 

Warnings: cursing, sad bois, tears, mentions of wounds (nothing bloody), descriptions of nudity and breeding, but not what you think.

Word count: 5.2k~

Updated 8/23/2020

“Hyunwoo and your father weren’t classmates. They worked together,” he felt like a traitor, like he was letting Namjoon down, “he’s a beneficiary of Big Hit. They’re already paying for you.”

It was almost as if the earth stopped spinning on its axis, sending you crashing, your world and it’s contents slamming into the proverbial dashboard. You mind blanked for a moment. You were still staring into Yoongi’s eyes, but you were gone, mind on a distant planet, he could tell. Your stare was blank, pupils twitching, as your life, your childhood especially, flashed before your eyes.

Was it all a lie? You asked yourself. You thought back to all the times your parents told you, you should never leave the city. Forbade you from going to college to ‘protect’ you. They told you all your life that the world was dangerous for someone like you. Someone like you. What did they really mean when they said that? You were trained to be the calm, quiet, and obedient daughter. Taught never to question your parents or authority. Taught to always be a good girl. You could feel the years worth of rebellion, of anger, bubbling up to the surface. You needed answers. 

Yoongi was watching you intently, trying to figure out your next move. He liked to think he was pretty good at reading people, but he couldn’t get a hold on you. You looked confused, for sure, but there was something else in your expression. Realization? He wasn’t sure. All he knows is that he shouldn’t be the one relaying this information to you.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked hesitantly, “We can go ta-” 

“No,” you cut him off, “I don’t want to talk to him.” You know Yoongi is going to suggest you talk with Namjoon. It’s not that you’re mad at him. You aren’t. But you know if you don’t have time to process this, to talk with someone other than him, you won't be able to hold yourself together in front of him. The last thing you want is for any of these men to feel guilty about bringing you here. You’re thankful to them, especially now that you suspect your family really was hiding something from you.

Yoongi stared at you for another moment before taking a deep breath, “He’s going to have the answers, though, YN,” he said softly. He knows he needs to tread lightly with you. You’ve had a whirlwind of a day and he’s only piling more information on top of an already really high mountain of information. Yoongi noted how calm you were being, compared to earlier tonight when you were crying and barely able to look into his eyes. He expected you to react to the non-answer he had given you about your father, not stare at him blankly like you were now. This wasn’t a reaction, not really. He was starting to worry about you. Did he break you? He hoped not, Namjoon would kill him. “Come inside with me, please, YN. It’s cold, and you’re going to get sick.”

“Take me to Jin,” you whispered. He stared at you for only a moment before nodding his head. 

When Yoongi had brought you back up to the warehouse and into Jin’s room, the older man was already waiting for you on his bed. When you walked through the door he instantly stood up, walking towards you with an outstretched hand.

“YN,” he breathed, relieved that you were okay. You look like you’ve cried waterfalls, and your nose was bright pink from the chill of the night, but overall, you were okay. At the sight of Jin, you let out a sigh. Comfort. That’s what he was to you right now. 

You rushed towards him, prompting him to open his arms for you, as you crashed into his firm chest, short arms wrapping around his middle. Surprisingly, no more tears were shed. Seokjin’s calm breathing helped even your own out, his large hand running up and down your spine helped ground you and relax you into a sleepy stupor. After a while of standing there wrapped up in each other, he slowly walked you both backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sunk down with you in his arms. You followed his lead and sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you nuzzled into his shoulder. It was the closest you’ve ever been to him, and you felt safe, secure in his arms. 

Neither of you spoke for a long while, just existing, here, with each other. You needed some time to not think about things, to just breathe for a little bit. His hand never ceased his comforting caresses, and he never attempted to speak, not wanting to burst the fragile bubble of security you both felt with each other.

You were eventually the first one to speak. “Jin,” you mumbled sleepily into his neck. He thought you had already fallen asleep with how steady your breathing had become. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, throat vibrating against your face, “are you okay?” His voice was husky and low, like he hasn’t used it in a while. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, “No.” It was the truth. You weren’t okay. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you also weren’t sure how to elaborate. He seemed to understand the unspoken words and just held you tighter. 

“You don’t have to talk right now, but just know that I’m here for you whenever you want to, or need to.” You nodded against him, cheek rubbing on his shoulder. “Are you tired?” You tightened your arms around his neck, like you were fearful his question insinuated he was leaving you. 

“No,” you whimpered, not ready to let Jin go yet, “stay, please.”

Jin shifted underneath you, lifting you up slightly and scooting back further on his mattress until his back was against his pillows. “I’m not going anywhere, love.” He wasn’t sure how you’d react to his nickname, or if you would understand the truth behind it, but right now he didn’t care. Everything in him was yelling at him to comfort you, to take care of you. It beat out the other part of him that was yelling at him to care for your wounds and to make sure they were healing properly. He pushed those thoughts aside to heal your heart instead. He leaned back further into the pillows, never loosening his hold on you, and reached down to pull the covers over the both of you. “Go to sleep,” he whispered into your hair, “I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nod into his neck again, already drifting off into unconsciousness. Jin keeps his promise, and stays with you all night, despite the knot that’s developing in his neck. 

Your head hurts. Your eyes burn. Your back is stiff. What happened last night? As you go to stretch, you realize your limbs are tangled with someone else and yesterday comes crashing back to you.

Seokjin. Yoongi. Your parents. 

You open your eyes carefully, ignoring the sharp pain behind them from all the crying you did last night. The first thing your eyes focus on is Jin’s beautiful face, only inches from your own. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed, mouth closed, breathing steadily through his nose. You internally wish you could look as pretty as he does when you sleep. Carefully, you reach a hand up to his face, gently brushing back some of his dark hair that has fallen in front of his eyes. He looks like he could use a hair cut soon, but it suits him. At the gentle brush of your fingers on his face, his eyes flutter open, making you pull back quickly in embarrassment. 

The soft smile that spreads across Jin’s face makes your cheeks heat, “Good morning beautiful,” he whispers. 

“Morning,” you whisper back, trying to muster up a smile for him, “thank you. For staying.”

His smile widens at your words, “Of course.”

You sit up slightly, moving to get off Jin’s lap, but his grip on you tightens. For a moment you’re confused, but then he sits up and gently moves you off his lap and places you on the bed next to him. “Let me take a look at your bandages and then I’ll go make breakfast, I’m sure you’re hungry.” You couldn’t deny that he was right, not having eaten since yesterday morning and exhausting most of your energy crying, but you still felt bad when he did all this stuff for you and you had nothing to give in return. You were about to protest, lips parting to speak, but Jin beat you to it, “I’m not taking no for an answer, love. I need to make sure you’re healing okay. We can’t afford for you to get sick.” He phrased it in a way that made it seem like he was doing it for the good of the group, even though the real reason was his own worry and care for you. You simply nodded in response as he got up and started moving around his room, gathering up supplies he would need. You watched on in curiosity as Jin grabbed different types of ointments and creams and brought them back over to the mattress and laid them out in front of you.

He was gentle, as always, when he looked at your hands and feet, wrapping them with the utmost care, so as to not hurt you in any way. Instead of zoning out like you have in the past, you watched him intently. The questions were there on the tip of your tongue, but you were too hesitant to ask. Jin seemed to notice your gaze on his face and smiled up at you.

“Something on your mind?” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the fact you were caught staring, but you hold his gaze. “H-how did you end up together?” You’ve been curious since you arrived here. How did seven men come together to make this peculiar family and what fate had they met that brought them together in the first place? Jin’s smile wavered slightly, but remained on his face as he answered your question.

“I’m the oldest out of all of us,” he continues wrapping your ankle and foot as he speaks, “I was at Big Hit first, and the longest. They took me from my family when I was fourteen.”

“You were taken?” No nods solemnly, focused on your foot.

“They started to pay for them after me, realizing it was probably an easier way to get what they wanted. They took me from the boarding school I was living at. My parents are wealthy, and they wouldn’t have easily let me go,” he purses his lips, “at least I don’t think they would have. Although I really don’t know. I haven’t seen them since the summer before I was taken.”

Your heart breaks at his story. Unlike most of the rest of the group, Jin had a loving and caring family, who would most likely have fought for him, rather than giving him away. He counts himself lucky to have had such a great childhood and education up until he was removed from it. 

“I was there for six years,” you felt your heart crack again, “about a year after I arrived, they ‘acquired’ a ten year old boy who never knew his parents. He was the second born to a family who couldn’t afford to pay the high fines of having more than one child. They gave him away to a company who later sold him to Big Hit after his DNA turned out to not be exactly what they were looking for.”

You had an inkling, but decided to ask anyways, “Jungkook?” Your voice was barely a whisper, it was all you could muster right now. 

Jin nodded again and moved on to your other foot, putting ointment on the sole and then gently massaged the top of it. You wonder where he learned his compassion if he was treated so horribly all his life. “They didn’t have much use for him, as a lot of his DNA wasn’t perfected. He’s always felt a weird sense of defeat because of it, like his family gave him up for no reason, even though we know they had no choice. They ‘gave’ him to me at the direction of a psychologist who said I was depressed and needed to be socialized. I took care of him, raised him. He had never been to school, couldn’t read or write, never even had a friend before. He barely knew how to speak.” Jin’s eyes were glazed over as he spoke about his best friend. That completely explains Jungkook’s shy and timid demeanor and childlike behaviors. “Anyways, Big Hit basically kicked me out when I was twenty, after they had taken what they wanted from me. Me and Jungkook roamed around Seoul for a few months, staying at homeless shelters, until we met Namjoon and Yoongi.” Jin let out a sigh, eyes closing for a moment before getting back to work on your bandages. 

“You raised him well, Jin,” his eyes lit up at the praise, “from what I’ve seen he’s a wonderful young man. I’m so sorry for what you both went through”

“Thank you, YN,” he whispers as he sets your foot down gingerly and moves to take your hand in his, “I tried, and continue to try, my best to make sure he’s kind and caring. I just want him to be happy.”

You give Jin a genuine smile at the soft nature of this man. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Jin scoffs lightly at this, waving his free hand in your direction. “Ah, I’m lucky to have him. And the others. I don’t know what I would do without them,” he trails off fondly, finishing wrapping your hand and moving on to the other one. You both remain silent while he finishes his bandaging, thinking over his earlier words. 

“C-can I see your ribs?” You nod, laying back on the bed carefully and lifting your shirt up to your bra. Jin winces at the sight of your purple and green splotched ribcage. “It looks worse than it is, I promise,” he places a gentle palm on your side, stroking softly, “does it hurt?”

“Not really. It’s a little sore,” you sigh, “but what part of me isn’t.”

Jin smiles sadly at you, “I’m really glad you’re here, YN,” he whispers, hand still on your side. 

“Me too.”

After you and Jin cooked breakfast for everyone, despite his protests that you stay in bed and rest, everyone sat around Yoongi’s room, picking at their plates. Jungkook told you that they didn’t really have a table to eat at, but all liked to be together for meals, something Jin always insisted on. 

You, Jin, and Jungkook were squished together on the black leather couch, Yoongi was in his usual spot at his desk, and Namjoon and Hoseok were leaning against the wall immersed in their own conversation while the rest of you ate your food. The tension was thick in the air, and you wanted nothing more than to escape it, but you knew you couldn’t. You had so many questions, but you didn’t know if you should ask or stay quiet. You were a shy person at your core, never one to stir the pot, always wanting to stay in the background. But something inside you was pushing you to change that, pushing you to stand up for yourself for once in your life. 

“Namjoon.”

Everyone in the room turned and looked at you, stopping everything they were doing. It was the first any of them, besides Jin, heard from you today. A brief glance at Yoongi told the man all he needed to know about what you were about to say, and he braced himself for the fallout. Namjoon took a couple steps forward, eyes on you, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I um, want to talk to you.” Your voice was softer than you had hoped, but you were still feeling nervous despite your mental pep talk earlier.

Namjoon didn’t have to say anything, Jungkook, Jin, and Hoseok got up and headed towards the door, leaving the rest of you behind. Namjoon looked to Yoongi but before he could say anything, you jumped in, “He can stay.”

Namjoon looks confused, but nods anyway. Yoongi bites his lip and looks around nervously when Namjoon glances at him, only confusing him further. As the purple haired man approaches you, he drags a chair with him and sets it a few feet in front of you, plopping down on it backwards and resting his arms on the back of it. “Is everything okay?”

You look at him nervously for a moment before Yoongi takes it upon himself, “She knows, Joon. Just tell her.”

Namjoon swivels in his chair, sending a pointed look at a now flushed Yoongi, before sighing at turning back towards you. “What do you know?”

You hesitate, looking at Yoongi who gives you a curt nod. “That my dad worked with Hyunwoo, or works, I’m not sure.”

“It’s true. He worked at Big Hit with Hyunwoo, but he doesn’t anymore. Though, he is still a beneficiary of the company, meaning he still gets paid by them.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to piece together this elaborate puzzle. Does this mean that your parents have money, and have been lying about being poor this entire time?

“He worked there for a few years before your mother got pregnant with you. When you were born, all I know is that he left the company and was given a lump sum of money to move out of Seoul with you and Big Hit has been paying him ever since.”

“How do you know all this?” 

Namjoon gestures behind him where Yoongi is sitting, “We have connections in some big companies, and anything that falls through the cracks, Yoongi can usually figure out on his own. There’s a whole network of people, natural borns and otherwise, who have been working together for years to try and bring down these corporations from the inside. People who believe this is wrong and that natural borns deserve equality. It’s how we get communication from Jimin and Taehyung. There’s a mole in the company.”

Your mouth is slightly parted, eyes trained on Namjoon’s. “Do you know why they pay my father still?”

Namjoon runs a hand through his faded purple locks, “We don’t. All we have been able to find out is that they’ve been paying him monthly stipends since two months after you were born. Recently, those stipends have increased significantly.” Your blood runs cold at his words. Namjoon can see the color leaving your face at the realization that Hyunwoo’s visits weren’t merely a coincidence. “My theory is that they were getting ready to make a deal.”

A lump in your throat is forming and you audibly gulp to try and force it down. “What kind of deal?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer, but before you could change your mind, Namjoon was giving it to you.

“For you. I believe that Big Hit has been paying your father to keep you safe from other companies all these years until you matured enough for them to take you. I don’t think they wanted you just for your DNA, like us…” he trails off, not sure if he really wants to tell you the rest.

You wince as the unspoken insinuation. Jin told you that female natural borns with perfect markers were incredibly rare. You needed to hear it from him though, needed to know that this was meant to be your fate. “What did they want me for?” Your eyes drop to the uneaten plate of food on the couch next to you. You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear slipped from your face and onto your folded hands in your lap.

 “We think they want to breed you,” this time it was Yoongi who spoke, making your head snap up towards him. His words were harsh, but you needed to hear them. It was the only way to make you realize your parents weren’t safe. Your home wasn’t safe. “We’re pretty sure that’s why they came for you now. They have Taehyung.” Hearing the words made you sick to your stomach, face twisting in disgust as both Yoongi and Namjoon moved to get closer to you, their instinct to protect you stronger than ever. Both men sat on either side of you on the couch, Namjoon rubbing a large hand up and down your back, while Yoongi kept his hands to himself, unsure what to do to offer you comfort. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, hell, none of us want it to be true, but it makes sense. They just got Taehyung back a few weeks ago, and he has the closest to ‘perfect’ DNA out of all of us, just like you. It’s wrong, and vile, and disgusting,” Yoongi stops for a moment to reel in his anger at the company, taking a deep breath, “and that’s why we can’t let this happen.”

“We won't let this happen, YN,” Namjoon whispers, “I promise.”

You sniffle slightly, looking up at Namjoon whose eyes soften at your misty ones. You felt a strong urge to curl up into a ball and cry your eyes out, but an even stronger urge was pushing its way to the top. A sense of protection. A sense of longing. You needed to save Taehyung, and Jimin, from a fate they don’t deserve. Namjoon and the others helped save you, it’s the least you could do to save the others from a similar fate.

“I want to help.”

Yoongi and Namjoon share a look with each other. “We’re doing everything we can, but right now you should focus on getting some rest and healing. When we’re ready to move, you’ll be the first to know.” Yoongi nods at Namjoon’s words, making you bite your lip.

“Okay,” you whisper.

After your discussion with Namjoon and Yoongi, you decided it was in your best interest, and Jin’s if you continued to sleep in his bed, to take a shower and get a change of clothes. After asking Jungkook for some spare clothes, of which he provided you with some of Jimin’s because they were smaller, you headed towards the showers.

You let the hot water run down your face, hot enough to make the skin red. As the water cascades down your neck it beads up at your chest and rolls off the peaks of your nipples, hardened by the cold, open space of the showers. There were no shower curtains. It looks a lot like those old school gyms you see on TV, just much smaller, with shower stalls lining one side of the tiled room, a long bench in the middle, and lockers on the opposite wall. So when Seokjin walked in, thinking it was Namjoon or even Jungkook in the shower, he was shocked to see your bare back turned towards him, both of your hands running through your wet hair.

He was ashamed of the twitch he felt in his pants, knowing he shouldn’t be looking at you that way. He’s only known you a couple of days, knows that you’re dealing with a lot. He knows that he should turn around and leave, but something stops him in his tracks.

He hears soft sniffles coming from you, muffled by the running water, but still there. He watches carefully as you bring both hands up to your eyes and push the palms of your battered hands into your eyeballs to relieve the pressure. He’s sure you’ve cried your body weight in tears the last few days and his heart breaks at the visual. 

Thinking better of just walking up to you, he takes a few quiet steps backwards until he’s behind the doorway, and knocks a few times against the metal lockers. “YN?”

You startle at the metallic sound ringing in your ears, quickly wiping the tears you let fall and protecting your modesty by folding your arms in front of your chest. “Yeah?” you call, keeping your back turned to the voice. The shower walls come up to your waist, and the entrance to the locker room is far enough away from you that no one would be able to see lower. 

“It’s Jin,” you hear him just barely over the sound of the shower, “do you mind if I come in? I wont look, promise.”

You hesitate for a second before deciding you wouldn’t mind if he came in. The two of you have been getting closer, especially after last night, and he has seen most of your body already from caring for and wrapping your wounds. “Come in,” you say, voice raised slightly. You turn towards the doorway, arms still folded over your chest. You aren’t the most confident person in the world, but you aren’t completely uncomfortable with nakedness and the human body. Everyone has one and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. 

As Jin rounds the corner, he stops, wide eyed that you turned around, and instantly covers his eyes, looking straight down at his shoes. “Sorry, sorry!” He utters, turning to hide his reddened cheeks. You let out a silent chuckle at the color his ears are turning. 

“Jin,” you start, making him raise an eyebrow and hum in affirmation, “it’s okay, Jin. I don’t mind. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.” Slowly, he nods, removing his hand from his face. He still looks unsure, but his red coloring is starting to subside.

“I uh-” he runs a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but your chest, “s-sorry, I heard you and I was worried, I’m sorry I thought it was Namjoon or Kookie in here.” His words are rushed, clearly embarrassed. He purses his lips into a thin line and gulps. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, I don’t mind, Jin,” you began, “really.” To prove your point, you unfold your arms and stare directly into the tall man’s eyes. 

Jin thinks his heart just dropped out of his chest and bounced away on the floor in front of him. At first he isn’t sure where he should look, trying his hardest to stare at your face. You look calm, not completely with the way your eyes are still slightly swollen from crying, but you don’t look embarrassed, like he does, that he’s standing in front of you, so he makes his decision. Hesitantly, he steps forward, watching you closely for any sign of being uncomfortable. Jin cares about you so much, and would never put you in a position you didn’t want to be in. As he approached you, you gave him a small smile, letting him know it was okay. 

You rest one of your hands on the half wall in front of you, letting the hot water roll down your back. You really did feel completely comfortable with Jin. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s taken care of you so well the last few days, or maybe it’s because of something deeper, you weren’t sure. What you did know is that as he approached you, you felt safe. Completely safe. Maybe it’s the trauma you’ve been through, both physically and mentally, over the last couple of days, but you craved his comforting touch, the physical closeness he had no problem with providing you. Even in your naked state, you wanted him close. 

You reached your hand out to Jin, eyes conveying all the words you couldn’t say. He understood, and you felt like that was all the more reason to trust this man. Slowly, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt before pulling it up over his head and took your hand. He smiled gently at you, before letting go to pull off his black jeans and boxer briefs. You didn’t look, respectful of his boundaries, and he of yours as he walked closer and closer until he was standing beside you. Even though you were both nude, you didn’t stare or ogle one another. You stood there, a few inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes, until you reached out, grabbing Jin’s hand and tugging him forward as you backed up into the water.

You inhaled deeply at the feeling of the warmth, feeling your muscles relax even further with Jin’s calming presence beside you. He took another chance and took two steps forward to close the gap between you, and pulled you into an embrace. Your wet breasts were soft against his toned abdomen as you melted into one another. You snake your arms around his middle, hugging tightly to him and rest your cheek on his now wet chest. His arms wrap around your shoulders, one of his large hands rubbing up and down your back, pushing you backwards slightly so the both of you are further under the heat of the shower. 

Seokjin’s hands run over your spine, shoulders, and sides lovingly. You cling onto him like a lifeline, holding you through whatever troubles you had. It was calming, like Seokjin always is. You have never showered with another person before, not that you were doing much showering, but it was incredibly intimate, here with him. You were both so vulnerable, yet completely comfortable with one another. Hesitantly, you look up only to find him already staring down at you lovingly. Slowly, like he doesn’t want to scare you away, he leans down and places a long, sweet kiss on your wet forehead. His lips linger there longer than needed, before he pulls away and rests his chin on the top of your head. You try to ignore the plethora of butterflies swimming in your stomach at his display of affection, but it’s too hard and a soft smile spreads across your lips. 

You both stayed like that, unmoving for a long while, neither of you daring to speak and burst the fragile bubble you were living in. Whatever this was, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, it was the most comforted you think you’ve ever felt, even before, in your old life. Old life, you scoff internally, was it ever really my life? So many decisions were made for you, you didn’t even know who the real you was. Maybe now you have a chance at figuring that out. What you did know, in this moment, is that Jin cares for you, and he was expressing a love that you’ve never felt from another person before. That thought both excited and scared you. Excitement for what was to come, the bonds you were about to build and the love you were about to share with these men. Fear for the unknown. Fear for the known. Fear of the what ifs. A lot of fear. But you knew, with Jin - here in his strong arms, and with the rest of the boys, everything would be okay. 

To be continued...

A/N: thanks for making it to the end! i’m not super proud of this chapter, but the shower scene with Jin is something I wrote a long time ago and wanted to include it in some way. you also get Jin and Jungkook’s (kind of) back story, and a little bit more of YNs. please let me know what you think!

taglist:  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ @kooksremedy @irishhbamb​ @sugashaye​ @lovelyseomin​ @strawberrygatorade sorry if I missed anyone, please let me know if you want to be tagged! make sure you’re following and send an ask! 

copyright aliendes 2020

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Heaven is a Place on Earth

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson/Kory Anders, Core Four

Summary: Stargazing was really relaxing and helped with her shattered nerves but Kory knew deep down she needed something more. 

Check out the prompt list | REQUESTS OPEN

Hand-holding | 43. raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly, Dickkory - for Vanessa N Isaacs 

When she abruptly woke up, her breathing rapid and heartbeat racing, all she could feel was fire.

Kory's used to fire coursing through her veins, but this time it's not the warm and comforting power of her Starfire, it's a conflagration, turning her into a pile of ashes. Sweat was dripping from her face, lungs refused to cooperate and the only thing on her mind was run, get out.

Throwing the tangled covers away in a hurry she slipped off the comfortable mattress to sit down at the edge of the bed. She wanted to run her fingers through the messy bush of her curly purple hair but she noticed her palms were giving out a soft orange glow. The waves of heat were flowing underneath her skin like water in the river during a storm. The sight could be almost calming but it only added fuel to the fear squeezing Kory's chest.

"It was just a dream," she whispered, closing her eyes, her fingers curling into fists. "Just a fucking dream."

She ordered herself to steady her breathing, to calm down her raging heart. She looked over her shoulder at Dick, who remained asleep on his side of their bed, facing away from her. In the faint light coming from the window she could make out the outline of his bare back. Watching him breathe in his sleep calmed her down a bit but she knew it won't do the trick after the horrors she just witnessed in her mind.

So she stood up and as quietly as she could stepped out of the room.

***

The door to Rachel's room creaked when she opened it and Kory froze. She waited five seconds, holding her breath, but the girl didn't wake up. Kory didn't mean to enter anyway, she just wanted to slide her head in to sneak a glance, that's all.

Rachel slept soundly curled up in her bed, wrapped in her blankets so tightly that only the top of her head was visible. Kory's heart slowed its pace a little, knowing that the girl was alright. She leaned her head on the doorframe and smiled fondly. She could never sleep like that, she'd feel trapped, not to mention how hot it'd be under all these blankets, but Rachel loved the heat. She loved to bury herself in the covers and pillows and soak up the warmth, especially when she didn't have anyone to cuddle with and share body heat - usually that person was Dick.

She's okay, Kory told herself when the images from her nightmare flooded her mind again. She's okay and she's sleeping so stop being paranoid.

She closed the door with a soft click and moved to the bedroom next door - Gar's. Peering inside she let out a quiet laugh. The boy was sprawled out on top of the covers, arms and legs spread in every direction. His mouth was slightly open and the soft snoring sound he was making made Kory giggle so hard she had to press her hand to her mouth to keep it quiet. He's okay, she told herself and closed the door behind her, a fond smile still tugging at her lips.

It was just a dream. The kids are alright.

Then why was she still shaking? Why was her heart still trying to break out of her chest? Why were her hands still glowing? She didn't- She didn't, right? She just checked. The kids are alright.

There's no going back to bed, Kory knew it. So her bare feet carried her further down the hall to the living room and out on the balcony. She stepped out into the chilly night air, not feeling a bit cold despite having only a gray tank top and pink shorts on. Leaning on the railing with her hands folded in front of her she looked up and took a long, deep breath.

The sky was exceptionally clear tonight, the stars scattered around were shining like glitter, she could even make out a few constellations. Such views are rare in cities like San Francisco - at least that's what Dick told her once. Something about pollution in the air and tall buildings covering the sky.

Stargazing was really relaxing and helped with her shattered nerves but Kory knew deep down she needed something more. Something that unfortunately was out of reach this time.

Back on her home planet whenever she felt the need to clear her mind or get her unstable powers under control, she would take a small ship for a ride and spend a few hours drifting in space, close to Tamaran's orbit, watching those little shiny dots from up close. Oh, to be stardiving again! It was the only time she, Koriand'r, Princess of Tamaran, could be truly alone - no royal guard, no servants, no nobles, politicians or other royal family members, close or distant. She missed soaring through hyperspace, twirling between asteroids, surfing on stardust. The other day during a movie night the team was watching one of the Star Wars movies (Gar wanted a whole marathon and he was stubborn as hell about it) and at some point Kory had to excuse herself and run to hide in the bathroom because she was one second away from crying. Seeing the vast space, the ships, even the hyperspace tunnel (that didn't look like this in real life at all but that's not the point) felt like getting repeatedly stabbed in the heart. It brought back memories that were fond and happy but stung like a fresh cut. Her heart couldn't take it. 

Being out there felt almost heavenly, it just made all your worries go away, even if only for a moment. No duties, no laws, no control, nothing - just her and the stars. The lights, the colors, the feeling of being light as a feather… she missed being instantly healed from her worries thanks to all that.

But things are different now. Back then Kory took every opportunity to run away from her duties and responsibilities and hide between the stars. Now she was here on Earth - with new duties and new responsibilities. And she found herself realizing that for the first time in her life she doesn't want to get away from them, even for a moment of quiet and peace. She had this team now, this family, two amazing kids she and Dick were raising together - she couldn't just take off whenever she felt like it. She wasn't a princess anymore, but she was a freaking superhero, a friend, a girlfriend and most of all - a mother. 

She looked at her hands again, feeling that her lower lip was starting to tremble. If that dream had been real, if the kids really were… if she really-

"There you are," she heard a sleepy voice behind her and turned to find Dick standing in the doorway. He was barefoot as well, only in sweatpants and a t-shirt he must have thrown on when he got up. He was watching her with curious eyes, but not without a hint of worry. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

She gave him a faint smile even though she could feel tears welling up behind her eyes. One glance down told her that her palms were still glowing so she hid them behind her back. 

"I just needed some fresh air."

His gaze lost all signs of curiosity - now it was just worry. He stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him.

"Nightmares?" he guessed.

She shook her head and sighed, "Dick…"

"Kory…" he shot back mocking her tone, half playful, half serious and she instantly knew she lost that fight. Once he noticed something was wrong he wasn't going to back down. It was their children who taught him that patience and resilience with their own night terrors and shutting down.

Dick walked up to her and leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. Kory turned back to the city view and fixed her eyes on the buildings but she could feel his gaze boring into her skull, studying her, trying to read something from her face.

"It was nothing." she finally told him, not being able to stand the pressure anymore.

"If you're out here at 3 am watching the stars, it's not nothing."

She winced and looked away. Damn it, sometimes she forgot how well he knew her. It's one of the things she loved so much about him - he could break her down to pieces and put back together with one single glance.

She dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Part of her wanted to tell him, he was only trying to help after all, but at the thought of putting that nightmare into words a painful lump grew in her throat. She shook her head helplessly, her lips pressed into a thin line. She couldn't do it.

His hand slipped across her back and Kory shivered when he moved closer to embrace her. It was a hesitant hug, he wanted to comfort her but was mindful of her needing space and acted carefully, ready to step back if she wanted him to.

She didn't.

"You know you can tell me, right?" he whispered, leaning closer to her face. Their eyes met and after a long moment full of dread Kory uncurled her fingers wrapped around the railing, revealing a soft orange glow that illuminated their faces.

"I lost control," she breathed out, her voice wobbly. "My Starfire got out of hand and… I hurt the kids."

Her voice broke and she lost the fight to keep her tears at bay. She leaned into Dick who instantly wrapped his arms around her, letting her hide her face in the curve of his neck.

"They begged me to stop and I- I couldn't." She was full-on sobbing now. The dam finally broke. "I felt nothing, I was empty. But I can still hear Gar screaming, I can feel Rachel's skin melting under my hand…"

She couldn't get another word out, it was too much. Kory couldn't remember the last time she cried this hard, but now she wasn't able to stop. Dick held her tightly against him, rubbing her back.

"Kory, you would never do that-"

"You don't know that!" She cried out, ripping herself out from his embrace. His arms fell helplessly to his sides as he watched her with pain and worry written all over his face. Kory lifted her hands in front of her, showing him the pulsing fire beneath her skin. "I woke up and my hands looked like this. I didn't do anything while I was asleep but how can I know I won't do it next time?"

Dick took a step closer.

"Kory-"

"How can I know I won't hurt Rachel or Gar - or you - when I'm like this? How-"

"Kory!" he called out to her and stopped her panicked rambling by grabbing her hands in between his own. He locked eyes with her before he pulled her closer, trapping their joined hands between their chests and then spoke softly but with total conviction.

"Kory, this is not gonna happen."

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "How do you know?"

Dick smiled, then slowly lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them softly. 

"Because I know these hands," he whispered tenderly and lifted his eyes back at her. "They are capable of many things but they would never hurt our kids in any way. You would never do that, Kory. I know that and Gar and Rachel know that, too."

Her heart almost melted when she heard him say our kids. They both loved them more than anything in the world. And that love is what brought them together, tying them to each other like an invisible string.

Blinking away her tears Kory finally smiled and leaned her forehead against his.

"Have I ever told you that I love you, Grayson?"

He let out a quiet chuckle and let go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist instead.

"Maybe once or twice."

She looped her arms around his neck relishing in his closeness. They stayed like that, forehead to forehead, until her heartbeat came back to normal and the last of her tears had dried out.

"We can go check on them if you want." he suggested softly, gazing into her eyes. She brushed her nose against his.

"I already did. I almost didn't notice Rachel under all those blankets."

Dick chuckled and Kory felt her heart skipping a beat at the sight of dimples that appeared on his face. Great X'Hal, she was head over heels for this man.

"Yeah, she loves to turn herself into a burrito," he nodded, smiling tenderly. "And let me guess, Gar's spread out on his bed as wide as he can, isn't he?"

"Like a fucking starfish." she giggled, shaking her head. "Funny how he'd take up a lot less space if he actually turned into one."

"Oh, don't give him ideas." Dick shot her a warning look but his gaze wasn't serious and his voice sounded giddy. "Remember what happened last time he turned into a sea creature?"

They both burst out laughing so hard Kory had to lean her head on Dick's shoulder. Yeah, she remembered a giant green dolphin in the middle of their living room damn too well. Gar was so panicked he forgot how to turn back and although it was a bit scary back then, now it was one of the best embarrassing stories they loved to tell and he hated to hear.

When their laughter died down they both sighed in content and found themselves lost in each other's eyes again. Dick reached out to tuck an unruly purple curl behind her ear.

"So what do you wanna do?" he murmured, his low voice sending shivers down her spine. She looked up at the stars again and smiled. She didn't need to drift between the stars to feel like she's in Heaven - she found it here, in the loving arms of the best man she has ever known.

"This." She breathed out and leaned in to press her lips to his, softly at first as a sign of gratitude, but then his arms gripped her tighter and he deepened the kiss, putting more passion into it. And the galaxy of stars lit up behind Kory's eyes, the fire in her veins spreading out from her palms through her entire body. It wasn't dangerous and scary anymore, but warm and bright, like the love she felt for her new family.

Yeah, who needs stardiving when Heaven is a place on Earth?

[icedthoma]

intergalactic promises

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Prompt: “The aliens can’t hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Notes: I’m having a blast digging through my drafts for haikyuu stuff from ages ago. This is the first hq fic I ever wrote so plz be nice :D 

Big shoutout to @katsukiscaramel​ for all our 3am fluff prompt nights, now my work is finally seeing the light JDSJJSHD

You’re only six years old when you meet Oikawa Tooru for the first time.

Only six years old, just moved into a new neighborhood in a new city. You’re sitting outside your front porch, swinging your legs and finding shapes in clouds, because when you are six and have nothing better to do looking at clouds is the only other option.

“Hey!” a voice calls. It’s loud and high pitched, and you look down from the clouds to see a boy around your age staring at you from the road. “Who are you?” he demands.

“Who are you?” you throw back, brow furrowed as you slide off the porch to meet him at the road.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“There wasn’t anyone living in that house last week.”

“Well now there is.” You shrug. “Bye.”

With that, you climb back on your porch and resume looking at the clouds. You see a bird, a cat, a horse, all drifting away in the great blue sky.

“Whatcha looking at?”

It’s him again. You drag your gaze back down to earth and squint at the boy who hasn’t moved an inch, scrutinizingly taking in his bandaged knees and messy brown hair.

Hmm.

You’ve been silent for too long, and you think that the boy in front of you is about to get bored and leave. However, instead he plops down on the grass near the road and stares at the sky like you were doing.

“Whoa! I can see shapes in all the clouds!” he yells, waving his arms and legs out in the air excitedly. He sits up and stares at you, eyes wide with wonder. “Is that what you were looking at?”

You resist the urge to use your recent acquired skill of rolling your eyes. “Yeah,” you mumble.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“Yeah!” you yell, startling even yourself. The brown-haired boy breaks into a bright grin.

“That’s really cool! Hey, shouting must be hard. You should sit here so you don’t have to talk loud.” He pats the ground beside him.

You frown at him. “You’re a stranger.”

He gasps like you have wounded him deeply, when all you’ve done is say what your parents have told you over and over again. “We talked for a long time!” he exclaims. You shake your head. “Fine,” he says, marching up to you and extending his hand up to where you sit on your porch. “I’m Tooru! Oikawa Tooru!”

You quietly tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name! It’s prettier than my best friend Iwa-chan’s,” Oikawa says happily. “Though, don’t tell him I called his name pretty or he’ll smack me,” he adds in a rushed whisper.

All you can do is nod. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve ever had with anyone your age, and you’ve barely said three sentences.

Tooru watches you stare at him with observant eyes. “I can tell you don’t like to talk much,” he says. “I’ll talk enough for the both of us, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

His face breaks into that blinding grin you witnessed earlier. “Now that we’re not strangers, watch clouds with me!”

You slowly slide off the porch and he grabs your hand, pulling you to a grassy area beside the road. He flops down on his back and points up in the air. “Look! There’s a spaceship! And that one over there is the alien king! Scary! He has a massive army!” Oikawa looks proud of himself for using a big word like massive.

Hesitantly, you lower yourself to lay beside him, and you listen to all he has to say about the alien king and the brave galactic knights who defeated him.

All too soon, a voice inside the house calls your name, and you have to leave. “Bye!” Tooru says, waving as you go. “I’ll see you!”

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you explore whole planets in your backyard, fending off aliens with your blasters fashioned out of stray sticks lying on the ground. Occasionally Oikawa’s friend Iwa-chan joins in, Nerf crossbow in tow. Slowly, you become more comfortable around the two of them, until you find yourself talking more and laughing along with them.

One day the three of you decide to take the fight to Oikawa’s backyard. Running down the street screaming in laughter, you notice a large dog who’s leash is tied to a lawn table in the front yard beside Tooru’s and stop in your tracks. It’s barking loud, and the sound resonates in your ears until you can’t even hear yourself think. It’s teeth are so big, and you shudder at the thought of what would happen if it ever got loose from its restraints.

A voice calling your name snaps you out of your daze, and you look up to see Hajime and Tooru looking at you with concern.

“The—the dog,” you manage to stammer out. “I-”

“Maybe we should go back,” Iwaizumi suggests. You hate how you’re scared to walk past a dog, a tied down dog at that, but you’re shaken and that’s it, that’s it for you and the galactic space crew.

Oikawa’s peering at you again, with that penetrating stare of his that makes it seem like he’s analyzing your every move. “Ahead of us is the Alien King’s home planet.”

“Hey—“ Hajime begins.

“He’s sent his army to stop us from getting in,” Tooru continues. “We can’t give up now, not when we’re so close!”

You’re shaking as you look at the barking, growling dog, then back to Oikawa’s soft eyes and smiling face as he grabs your hand, a peace sign forming in his other by his face.

“I promise you, the aliens can’t hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Relenting, you shove your face into the back of his shirt as he and Iwaizumi lead you through the battlefield, hands interlocked with Oikawa’s the whole time. 

Soon the barking of the dog gets quieter, and you’re climbing the steps up to Oikawa’s house. He tells you it’s safe to open your eyes now, didn’t he promise the aliens wouldn’t get to you?

You offer him a small smile as Iwaizumi points out the Alien King’s secret treasure (a plate of cookies on Oikawa’s kitchen table) and Oikawa doesn’t say anything more regarding earlier because he knows that you’re really okay now.

Stuffed with cookies twenty minutes later, the three of you lay side by side on the grass in Oikawa’s backyard, Tooru squashed between you and Hajime. The three of you watch the clouds drift by, occasionally shouting out interesting ones you guys find.

“Man, I can’t believe school starts in three days,” Hajime sighs, reclining back on his arms.

“I don’t want to go back,” Oikawa whines, pedaling his legs in the air. “I want to stay on vacation forever and ever and ever!”

“This is going to be your first year at our school, Y/n,” Iwaizumi says. “Are you ready?”

You don’t answer, because in all honesty you’re not. You’re not ready to face a whole new school layout, new teachers and different backpack cubbies and different school colors.

When the day comes you’re still not ready, quaking hands clutching your backpack strap as the three of you stand at the front of your new school. Weren’t you laying in the grass watching clouds together just a minute ago?

Iwaizumi’s class is in a different direction than yours and Oikawa’s, so he leaves the two of you pretty early on. Kids are already running around playing before the start of class, and you can feel yourself beginning to panic at the sheer chaos of it all.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, and you look up to see Oikawa standing protectively at your side, leading you toward the entrance to the school. You pass by groups of girls who whisper and mutter as you pass, Oikawa Tooru’s hand still on your shoulder.

They’retalkingaboutmethey’retalkingaboutmethey’re—

“Hey,” Oikawa says, sensing your anxiety and catching your attention. “We’re on an undercover mission to get to class before the bell rings, and we have to sneak through the alien army!”

“I’m the alien,” you mumble.

“What?”

“Everyone here has been here for years, and I’m new and I don’t know anyone and-”

“Aliens don’t belong in this world,” he says confidently. “But you definitely belong in mine, so I don’t think that makes you an alien at all!”

“T-Tooru...”

“Undercover mission, okay! You don’t have to be scared!” He flashes you that same soft smile and peace sign you’ve grown to love. “Remember my promise? The aliens can’t hurt you as long as I’m here.”

haikyuu taglist: @citrussaurus​

[orbitariums]

HEALING | thor odinson + reader

okay so i started writing this in november of 2019 and i really loved where i was going with it but never finished, so i continued it yesterday and finished it just now and here it is!!!

it takes place after the fight with the hulk in sakaar, you’re a healer and you take care of thor with your sisters. but there is something more there, and something that he has to offer you, as well. 

warnings/notes: quick paced!, falling in loooove, thor eats you out & fingers you, intercourse, sooo much talk ab divinity and gods (bc if you’re fucking a god that shit better feel different), empath + healer reader w/ powers, thor is emotionally attached and also hot, reader! is melancholy, descriptions of wounds, kinda cathartic fucking for the both of them, pussy heals, thor doesn’t know the difference between lord & god (but still has a preference n i love him for that)

& tbh i’m rlly proud of this share y’alls thoughts!!

word count: 8.8k

playlist

HEALING | thor odinson

    He was badly injured. Cuts and scrapes adorned his body like broken holiday ornaments, jagged bruises ran along his limbs. On the side of his face there was a gash that ran from the arch of his thick, bushy brows down to his chin, still fresh with blood. All these were injuries that would take eons to heal or leave scars, if you and your sister were regular doctors from planet Earth. Luckily, your healing powers would make for a quick recovery, though he would have to be nursed back to health by the sight of his injuries.

    Your powers, shared with your four sisters, were the strongest. You were the only healers in Sakaar. They needed you. You were there for the end of every brutal battle or fight in the arena, with nectar, elixirs, and herbal remedies that you used on your patients.

    Your fingers tingled with magic, you could run them along any broken bone or scar and the bone would snap back into place, the scar would fade. You were powerful women, with abilities like no other on the planet of Sakaar, as much as the Grandmaster hated to admit it.

     Still, even looking at this man, bulky and fit as he was, you couldn't help but lament the gash running down his face. You would try to relieve it, but it would probably be scarred forever, lest he stay behind and let you mend him to the best of your abilities. Nonetheless, you turned to one of your sisters, Amindi.

    "Pass me the moon water," you said, and she passed you the jug full of sparkling, night blue liquid that had been charged by the powers of the moon, known for its abilities to cure deep cuts and heal internally as well. Holding the heavy jug up with ease, you frowned slightly while looking down at his face. His eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful - not for long. "Gods. This is going to sting."

    You dipped a cloth in the moonwater and let the blue liquid spread, its slightly gooey consistency dripping down the cloth. You leaned forward, your body hovering over the man's face while your sisters tended to his upper body and legs. You had your elbow lying gently on his chest to balance and you were slowly, very tentatively raising your hand with the cloth in it up to his face.

   You felt deep sorrow for some reason — as a healer you hated to see anyone in pain, it was maternal for you — but you felt especially pitiful for this man. Your powers as a healer included being an empath, which was a blessing and a curse at times. Melancholy, masked by anger, coursed through your very veins. This man had lost something, something dire to him. He had lost a few things, and was not able to properly process it. You felt his losses, pitied him.

       Your fingers trembled before you gently placed the cloth on top of his broken skin, and, just as you expected, he woke with a roaring start, pain searing through his body like raw meat against a flame. You flinched at the volume of his yell. He sat up immediately, his heart pounding like he had just been woken from a bad dream. He was clearly in a disarray, confused, and also in pain from the sting of the moonwater against his skin, though the gash it was meant to heal was beginning to close up.

     Your sisters had no idea how to react to this, this confused, angry-looking hulking man in front of them. They all stood at his feet, keeping their distance from him and watching intently with their hands behind their backs. You were still beside him, though you leaned away, your cloth clutched tightly in his hand.

   "Who are you?" he demanded to know. "Where..."

He glanced around the room, your wooden cabin that served as a house for you and your sisters and an infirmary, and groaned, realization setting in on his drooping face.

You blinked, astonished at how he appeared when he was coherent, and stumbled to your feet.

    You said your name, trying to keep your voice steady. He was still a foreigner to you and after what he'd survived you didn't know what he was capable of. You started to walk over mindlessly to your sisters.

    "My sisters. Amindi, Mina, Niva, Zahra. We are healers. We're here to help you." You turned to your sisters to dismiss them. "Go on, I've got him."

They scrambled away with ease, leaving you and this man alone. He was standing up now, though he winced - there was still a black bruise at his stomach, around the curve that led to the inside of his trousers. You looked down at it and grimaced. His eyes followed yours and he furrowed his brows, then looked up as if he was concerned with something else.

    "Sir?" He grunted in response, turning his head to face you, and you tilted your head at him curiously. "Who are you?"

    "Thor, son of Odin," he sighed out deeply through his nose and walked around the room, looking for something.

You could only watch him, trying to hide how your eyes took in his build as he stalked around the room. You watched in amazement at how his muscles flexed when he bent down to pick up his armor vest, and slip it on over his head. You still didn't know who he was, as you knew nothing of Asgard. But despite your intrigue, your face still contorted in concern when you saw him put the vest on over his injuries.

    "Please, you mustn't," you urged him, and you found yourself marching toward him, forgetting his very apparent strength and how you knew nothing about him. "Take that off," you insisted, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips.

It was then that he noticed your beauty, your goddess-like body and the beauty etched into your face, a kind of hereditary, natural beauty that would stretch on for years and be passed down for generations. And now, up close to him, you could see the intense blue of his eyes and the pink color of his full lips. Your eyes met for a moment, and you both held them there. Thor was the first to break away, still frustrated, his voice dark.

    "I'm fine," he huffed.

Your jaw clenched with sudden annoyance - you wanted to make sure he was okay, but he was fighting you already, and gods, you had been taking care of him all afternoon. You reacted too quickly for your brain to slow you down, and you kicked at his waist where the bruise was.

Despite the fact that you couldn't have kicked him that hard, considering your strength versus his, he let out a puff of pain and his eyes shut tight. You folded your arms, your eyebrows raised and lips puckered, eyes narrowed slightly.

    "You're not," you retorted very matter-of-factly.

He glared at you, but was silent. He knew you were right. You reached forward and put your hands around his body, taking off the vest yourself since he wouldn't. You looked down and your eyes dragged up his toned stomach, chest and shoulders until you met his eyes. He was smiling knowingly, and the mischief in his smile showed in those crystal blue eyes of his. You cleared your throat and blinked, looking away as if nothing had happened.

    "I'll need to patch you up first, before you even try to go anywhere," you said, your voice terse as you tried to dismiss what had just happened.

You turned around, gathering the materials you would need, and his eyes followed the back of your body wherever you went.

    "Why are you so concerned?" Thor asked, and you turned over your shoulder to face him, glaring at him,

    "Because it's my job." You paused as you walked towards him. "And more than my job, it's my duty. So stop questioning me and let me do what I do best."

Thor seemed impressed, and raised his brows, a faint smile playing at his lips,

    "My apologies."

You huffed out loudly, already feeling guilty for lashing out at him. Of course he was a little on edge. He clearly wasn't from here and he had probably been through a lot. He had woken up in pain, people he didn't know surrounding him, in a location he wasn't familiar with. You were a person who was inclined to be kind and nurturing, you wanted to make him feel safe. But you had felt so much just by looking at him, so much of his pain— it seemed unfair that you were always feeling another's pain.

    "I'm sorry," you murmured, in front of him now and dropping slowly to your knees so you could be at eye level with his bruise. You unscrewed the cap of an elixir that would hopefully clear up the bruise, and turned the bottle over into your hands, rubbing them together. "It's been a long day. For the both of us, I can imagine."

When you looked up at him, you were surprised to see him staring down at you already, his face hard and eyes steady on you, studying your anatomy and everything about you.

    "It has been. But you are beautiful. That could make up for all the time lost," Thor said, and his voice was unbelievably velvety smooth, his words like music to your ears.

You couldn't fight the smile appearing at the curve of your lips, looking up at him knowingly.

    "Thank you," you said, and you brought your attention back to his injury, massaging the wound with your palms, the elixir still spread on your hands. You let your fingers run across it, your touch making him feel something in his chest, something heavy and light at the same time. You frowned and breathed out loudly. "You are badly hurt. What on Sakaar did you even do?"

You looked up at him again and he sighed out in annoyance.

    "A raging fight," he looked pained to remember it. "I regret to recall it. That hulking beast. I knew him, you know — but he wasn't like before. Scratched me up a bit, he did. Nothing you can't fix, I suppose."

You blinked slowly, looking down at all your materials as you realized what he was talking about. Your eyebrows furrowed as you squinted up at him,

    "You mean Grandmaster's champion?"

Thor rolled his eyes, sickened by that title,

"If by champion, you mean Hulk, yes. To me, he's Dr. Banner. But no, not then he wasn't."

More realization sunk into you, but before you addressed it, you placed your hands, cupped together, over his bruise. Closing your eyes, you channeled your healing energy into his body, and he could see and feel the bruise clearing up as you hovered your hands over him. He felt the wave of purity rush through him and he groaned loudly, making you bite down on your lip as your mind traveled to less pure places. He felt refreshed, as if he had been cleansed entirely.

    "You feel that?" you asked, and he breathed out shakily, his body trembling,

    "Yes, I feel it. Gods... what is this power?"

    "I was born with it," you shrugged, used to the question people asked you and your sisters, in sheer amazement.

You stood up and dusted off your knees, still standing in front of him. For a moment you were both silent, studying each other's faces. Another nurturing instinct went off in you, and you reached up to touch the new scar that ran down his face, running your finger down it. Every time you touched it, it faded, but only a little. It would be there for a long time.

He could feel your energy, pure, holistic and full of light, surge through him every time you touched him. He was looking into your eyes, but you were distracted by the sight of his scar, wanting to heal it completely because the urgency in your mind told you to do so, but you knew you couldn't fully.

When you had finished touching his scar with your gentle, wondering fingers, you caught sight of him staring intently at you, and looked down, clearing your throat.

    "So you're the lord of thunder," you said out loud, and he nodded,

    "Well, god of thunder, but, yes. And king of Asgard," former king, actually, but he said that anyway. How would you be able to know?

You raised an inquisitive brow,

    "What's the difference between lord and god?"

Thor opened his mouth to speak as if he were sure of himself, then you could see the doubt cast in his eyes,

    "I - well, I don't know."

You laughed slightly, and although he was still confused, he laughed too, smiling simply because of the fact that you were smiling and that he had been the reason why.

    "You're funny," you said, smiling to yourself. "How'd you end up here, Thor, God of Thunder?"

He smirked at how his title sounded coming from your sweet lips, and indulged you in his backstory. You sat back, listening to him, and when he was done, you felt like you knew him much better. You felt you could trust him. And the feelings he had caused you had been accurate. He had lost things and people he held closest to his heart, been betrayed. He was thrown onto this planet and into chaos without even getting a word in, and all his hurt had been locked up inside of him.

    "But you are here," he said, looking up at you from where he'd been sitting. "And I like being around you. It's not every day I get to be under the care of someone so beautiful."

You smiled but raised your brows dubiously. He was god of thunder and a king where he was from, or at least from royal blood. How could he not have had his fair share of beautiful women?

    "Really? You don't talk to the women on your planet?" you challenged him, sitting up and smirking.

Thor laughed awkwardly, knowing he'd been called out on his bullshit but still continuing his lie anyway, faltering still under your blazing stare,

    "Well, I have seen quite a few women, yes, and... been with them, of course, but you... are... different."

You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, and though Thor was red as a tomato, he smiled at the sound of your unashamed laughter and the smile he could hear in it.

     "Oh, you're very good at what you do, you must be quite the charmer back at home," you suggested, a sarcastic glint in your voice, eyeing him down with a devilish look in your eyes.

He shifted, trying to ignore how that look in your eyes made him feel, the devilish things it made him think of,

    "How could I not be? But stop avoiding the real topic at hand here, which is you. I hardly know anything about you, except that you're a healer. That can't be all."

You shook your head and folded your arms,

    "I don't even know why we're fraternizing right now, you should be back in the city."

Your cabin with the infirmary attached was on the outskirts of the city. You needed to be surrounded by greenery and secluded in nature for the healing energy you needed. You and your sisters were partially excluded from the main part of the city, mostly voluntarily, and only went into town for materials or to speak with the Grandmaster or his counterparts. But otherwise you lived happily amongst yourself, outside of all the chaos and concrete jungle.

    "I should, though I don't want to. But we've been talking for this long. I'll bet they've hardly noticed how long I've been gone," Thor said, and boy, was he wrong.

So you gave in, because you liked his presence too, his strong and becoming image and how you interacted. You wanted to be around him for as long as you could, as you didn't get to take advantage of many interactions like this. It wasn't everyday that a beautiful man, a god at that, came to you for one thing and ended up staying with you for another. It would do no harm.

So you uncrossed your arms and shrugged widely,

      "You want to know more about me? Follow me, I can show you."

You were outside your cabin with Thor. He took in the lush greenery all around him, all the foreign plants and trees he had never seen before, the way the branches hung low over the rooftops, protecting your house. Nature was a sheath around your home. As you led him around outside, letting him see where you grew your herbs and made medicines, you told him your life story.

    You had grown up in Halcyon with your four sisters, which was a planet not far from Sakaar. But after the war, you were thrown unwillingly onto Sakaar. At first, you and your sisters were all going to be sacrificed.

    "But, Grandmaster spared us all when he saw our healing skills. He let us stay. But we were to stay distant from the city and live amongst ourselves, and work as healers in order to stay on this planet."

    "Why not go back to Halcyon?" Thor asked, engaged in your story. You paused, and Thor could see the hurt and contemplation on your face.

    "Why go back to where there's nothing left?" you swallowed hard, blinking away tears. Halcyon was your home, a home full of nature and love and light. Sakaar was nothing like that. Sakaar was like an eternal disco from hell, that was exactly how it could be explained.

You continued.

    "I've always been an empath. I could feel your pain before you told me your story. I felt I could connect with you, maybe I can. Here, come in," you walked over to the cabin where you all stayed in.

It had many floors and many rooms - it was spacious. You went to the kitchen and put on a cup of tea, which meant boiling hot water and adding herbs to it while Thor watched, sitting at the kitchen table.

You brought his cup and sat in front of him. He took a sip, looking up at you from the brim of the cup the whole time, like he wanted to say something. So when he put the cup down, he did.

    "We could leave here, together," he said, his voice and eyes dead serious.

You choked on your tea,

    "What?"

    "We'll go to Asgard. I'll have to fight off my demon sister, but you can help heal those who she wounded. Your sisters too, bring them. We'll escape this place."

    "That's a terrible idea," you laughed nervously, miffed.

     "What's so terrible about it?" asked Thor, miffed. He seemed like he truly and desperately wanted to go through with this idea. "You won't be back on Halcyon but you'll be out of here, and so will I. It doesn't get better than that."

     "Thor, I couldn't just... just leave. Neither could you, you've got that— that thing on your neck," you huffed, standing up from the table and beginning to walk back and forth, packing.

You were contemplating your whole life now. You were a level headed person, but that was just the problem. Too often, you accepted things as they were. The idea of change seemed radical although it was what you wanted, and you weren't committing a crime against your morals. It just seemed ludicrous and you were sure it wouldn't work. But Thor wasn't letting you off that easy. He jumped to his feet as well, and followed you, cutting in front of you and stopping your pacing as he talked over you.

      "No no, listen to me, YN," there was a sure fire in his voice. He was confident in himself, and you figured he probably always was too confident, because this was stupid. "This is what you want, this is what you deserve. Why are you so against that?"

You were breathing heavily in and out, and Thor put his strong hands over yours, holding them in the small space between you and him.

      "I..." your eyes darted from his lips to his eyes, and you couldn't decide where to place them.

     "Hmm?" Thor hummed, raising his brows up at you and looking down at you.

     He was towering tall above you and the proximity of your bodies was making you dizzy, as well as the natural, pleasant fragrance he had. He was warm, and he was strong and big, overwhelming your senses. He had a look in his eyes that was caring and genuine, but you knew he knew what he was doing, cornering you like this. He pushed strands of your hair behind your ear, the slight touch of his fingers against your skin electrifying you. Definitely God of Thunder.

      He leaned in and before you knew it, you were too, your head tilting and your lips meeting his in a divine fit. Your lips tasted like sweet honey and tea, and his tasted like war, metallic blood from his fights, and the herbs in the tea you had made. He kissed you gently, placing his hands on the side of your face while you let yours wrap around his waist, taking it all in.

     Your brain was lost in the fuzz of the moment and your thoughts seemed to have sludged away like mush. You were leaning so far into the kiss that you nearly stumbled when he pulled back, the sound of your lips pulling away could be heard in the quiet house. Your sisters were elsewhere, all that mattered was you and him.

      "You can't just do that," you muttered, though you didn't care, and your eyelids were lowered, your eyes glued to his wet lips.

It wasn't often you kissed your patients - it was more like never, in fact. It wasn't on your agenda. But with Thor, it felt so undoubtedly right, like you'd be stupid to even question it.

He refrained from smiling, his voice quiet and his eyes scanning your transfixed face.

    "Should I do it again?"

You barely nodded before your hands slid up to his shoulders and gripped, feeling the whole of his muscle, leaning in further and letting his lips take over. His tongue whispered secrets into your mouth and you could feel your lashes brush against his cheek. He let his hands travel down your sides and your waist, squeezing at the curves of your body and wanting to feel all of you. Your energies were merging with each other, the heat rising between the two of you, the both of you getting the other more excited.

Thor lit a fire in you - his divinity shone a fiery light inside of you, the kind that hadn't been lit in far too long. You felt drunk with power and your want for him, your hands hanging lazily around his neck as he picked you up by your thighs and walked over to the counter, your lips still attached.

      And you ignited passion in Thor, made him feel whole enough to truly see with his own two eyes, to find a way out of this place he considered cursed, to go back to Asgard. He felt pure and cleansed, like all the bad energy had been swiped away by your touch, by your plump lips against his. He ran his tongue absentmindedly, but with every intention, along your bottom lip, making you sigh out in pleasure like you had never known before.

He was turning on every sense in you to a hundred and ten just by kissing you, and while you thought of taking further actions, you couldn't imagine what that might do to you.

     He set you down on the kitchen counter and you breathed out loudly and shakily as he put you down, your legs long but your feet only gently brushing the floor. He gave you no breaks, his lips immediately moving to your neck and leaving chaste kisses, lips fluttering against your skin like a butterfly. He sucked on your sweet spot beneath your ear, his heightened senses telling him that was exactly what he needed to do. You hardly knew you had a sweet spot, Thor found that out about you before you did yourself — since you started living in Sakaar, you hadn't had much experience. Even if you had, you know it could be nothing like this. This was godly, this was something mortal men and even most otherworldly men could never satisfy, a sweet spot aching to be satiated.

    "It's what you want," Thor repeated what he had said what seemed like so long ago, and you nodded slowly, hardly contemplating what he was actually talking about- but your initial panic didn't matter anymore.

      He had convinced you, oh how he had convinced you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, but in tongues only you and him understood.

He left love marks on your skin that would take weeks to heal — you didn't bother healing them yourself afterwards, you liked looking at them in the mirror or knowing they were on your neck, whether or not others could see them. Your neck rolled back as he kissed the spot between your breasts, lifting your shirt up and throwing it on the floor next to the two of you.

      "It's what I want," you repeated mindlessly to yourself; letting his mouth take over your body.

His lips led down to your waist and he looked up at you, the sight of his cold blue eyes sending your soul soaring, your stomach already bubbling with that faithful feeling. He easily untied your pants and watched as they fell to a pool on the floor beneath you, and pulled your underwear down as well, placing his hands on your back and pulling you in towards him as you sat on the kitchen counter, completely bare in front of him and completely aware of yourself, more than you had been in a while.

He left sloppy kisses trailing along your inner thigh, all while making the most intense eye contact with you, matching energies. You weren't nervous or scared, but you were excited and you felt like you had just as much rule as he did in this moment, that was how you balanced each other out. The both of you were strong entities who commanded respect, and in this moment it showed.

Thor wasn't a big teaser. He wasted no time making you feel good, making you cry out when you felt his tongue dive inside of you, his hands set on your thighs and his tongue penetrating you with no limit as to how far inside of you he went. He seemed to reach your very core, making your legs squirm around his head. He took it all in with very welcoming arms, lapping away at your slick. You were incredibly wet with arousal and Thor kitten licked away at your throbbing heat like it was his job to get it all up. You sighed immediately, pulling up his tunic - he assisted you, pulling it off completely and doing away with it, throwing it onto the floor. His back muscles flexed as he dove into you.

     He was relishing the taste of you. He noted how sweet and bitter your arousal tasted, the flavor a juxtaposition that applied to your very personality. There were parts of you that were logical, unexplored territory, stubborn - bitter and earthy, and there were other parts of you that were curious, unexplored, the parts of you that Thor was bringing out with every last touch. Those parts were sweet and giving. Stirred by the pure carnal nature of these activities - his knees nearly on the floor, your feet swaying by his sides, his head inbetween your legs - he moaned, the vibrations reverberating up your core, sending you into an electric frenzy. A guttural groan left your throat as you squeezed around nothing as a reaction.

Thor noticed, and he sighed out, his eyes slackening with lustful desire. He pulled his tongue away from your pussy and replaced it with two fingers at your sensitive entrance, which was glimmering with obvious pleasure. He toyed with the fleshy parts of you, glaring up at you with those darkened eyes. Somehow, with your legs around his head, even as they closed in, he felt safe. Felt like as long as he was between your legs he was healed - as long as his face was buried in your clit, magic would emanate from your core and soothe him in every sense of the word. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. He knew what you needed without guidance, and you knew how to heal him.

    The both of you moaned in unison when he eased his fingers inside of you, two thick fingers with bruises that seemed to disappear as soon as they came in contact with your wetness. You clenched immediately around his fingers, your body adjusting to the feeling of penetration, which you hadn't received for so long. A pleased huff of a laugh left his lips, his eyes smiling as he dove back down, lips suckling at your clit with just the right amount of pleasure. And he assumed slow, deep thrusting motions of his fingers inside of you while his lips were attached to the bundle of nerves. The pleasure was so gratifying, so much that you forgot yourself for a moment, your hand flinging to the back of his head.

    Surprised by yourself and your actions, you gasped, flinging your hand back away. But Thor noticed the absence of your hand at the back of his head, the absence of the pleasure he gained from knowing you were pleasured, and he grunted. His unoccupied hand grasped yours and he led it back to the back of your head, telling you without words to domineer him as you deemed fit. The erotic nature of the moment made you lose yourself again, pushing his head closer as you leaned your head back, moaning louder, without inhibitions.

      "Gods, Thor, that's it," you whimpered, allowing yourself permission to speak, allowing how turned on you were to seep irreversibly through your trembling voice.

     You weren't embarrassed, weren't afraid. With him it felt so natural, and you knew he encouraged you to fully feel everything he gave to you, not to restrict yourself. His words echoed in your jumbled mind: it's what you want. Gods, was he right. He responded with a groan, following through with the same motions, letting you have the next few moments for yourself as you squealed and squeaked and whimpered. Even as he repeated the motions, the sensations felt brand new every time, like he still had more of you to explore. And who could forget the free hand that operated either at your inner thigh or at your exposed nipple, tweaking it and rolling it around his fingers?

    Now he retracted his fingers, but it didn't take long for him to shove his tongue right back inside you, thrusting inside of you and seeming to reach your very core like the first time. Those shocks of electricity were back, surging through you, from your throbbing slit, striking up your stomach, and up your throat, coming out of you in pleasured shudders and stuttering groans. He didn't cease his hard and heavy breathes, making sure you could feel the warmth of his breath against your pussy. 

     His fingers didn't ignore your clit - his tongue firmly pumping in and out of you, he kept his thumb applying well-pressured, slow circles at your clit while the other hand ran up and down the top of your thigh. The hand that wasn't at his head overlapped his own hand on top of your thigh, following the slow up and down caresses he was making. It didn't take much longer of this for your toes to curl, your eyes shut tight as you rocked absentmindedly into his face, your core enveloping him the same way he was devouring your pussy.

      "Fuck! Thor, I'm-" your fingers curled tightly around his hair, your body lifting off of the counter, legs wrapping loosely around his back as you came with a howling cry, in disbelief of yourself and the sublime ecstasy that seemed to surround you as you came at his tongue, his fingers.

The vision you saw behind your closed eyes was like a flash of black and white, then a kaleidoscope of celestial colors, pale blues and whites that reminded you of a thunderstorm. You must have blacked out for a second while seeing these things, because your grip on his hair was so strong. This was like no pleasure any one else could bring you - this was the stuff of gods and nothing less. There had never been a better feeling than the one that came washing over you in this very moment, cumming around the eager tongue of a lost god, who would stay put between your legs, lapping up everything that you let out until your legs stopped shaking. 

     Even as you rode out your orgasm, it was never ending, his tongue kitten licking your juices, his eyes closed as he let you enjoy this moment to its full extent. He just knew your body like it was some hidden talent - just one of the perks of being a god of fertility, but even then he knew you in a special sense. You healed him- he healed you.      

    You didn't even notice when Thor came back up, standing up and standing inbetween your legs. His hand lay on the back of your head, which was still rolling back, to support your neck. He brought your head forward so you could face him, and you opened your eyes, having to blink away the orgasmic blur so you could see him clearly. His eyes bore into yours and you looked right into his eyes, one crystal blue and one hazel green, with no fears or anxieties. Your eyes found home in his eyes; his fingers and tongue found home inside you, and wanted to be inside you again. But not the same way.

      He couldn't help himself, pressing his forehead against yours and deliberately entering two fingers inside of you again just to feel you pulsating around him from your sensitivity, coaxing out just about anything you had left. Just to feel how wet you were again, to hear the squelching sounds of his fingers intruding your wetness. You weren't expecting his fingers back so soon, but they felt extraordinary inside of you, stretching you out and plunging inside of you so easily. His eyes never left yours, and you maintained eye contact with him as well.

    "I need to get you ready for me," he breathed, his voice low and dangerous, fingers bottoming out inside of you, making you lurch forward and bite down on your lip.

    By the feeling of his hard erection against your leg, no amount of fingering could get you "ready." The size of him wasn't necessarily something you adjusted to, but the pleasure was inexplicably divine. And at this point, you were just going with the flow - you weren't in charge of the schedule and you didn't want to be either. You didn't want the pleasure to stop, not now that he'd introduced it to you, ridding your mind of the idea that giving in to what you wanted was somehow taboo. If it meant you'd be getting this, you'd give in without resistance.

    "I'm not sure any amount of stretching me out will get me ready, love," you smiled, though weakly - you had hardly recovered from your first orgasm and already here he was, fingering you mindlessly and talking about how he would be taking you.

     "Mhm," he hummed, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "No matter. I couldn't stand not being inside you, in some way."

     You hummed in response as you leaned forward, mouths and lips pressing against each other yet again in harmonious synchronicity. You led each other, heads turning this way and that as you explored each others mouths and tongues. You tasted yourself on Thor's lips, to which you blushed. He pulled away only slightly, forehead flush with yours, fingers still digging deep inside of you, and asked you in his low, husky voice,

     "Does it please you to taste yourself on my lips? To know what pleasure it brought me? What it brought you?"

    "Yes," you sighed, yearning to taste more.

    He understood your request and his fingers slid out from you, leaving you throbbing around nothing once more, and his fingers toyed at your wet lips until you opened, your tongue savoring your own taste. The act was so overwhelmingly erotic, your lips swiveling around two of his coated fingers as you looked him in the eye, the taste of you fresh on your own tongue, eyes squinted in needy pleasure.

    "Come," Thor beckoned you, picking you up so your legs wrapped easily around his waist, feeling your hot arousal sticky against his muscular stomach. You blushed at the feeling of his skin in contact with your wet pussy, knowing he had to be feeling it, too. But he enjoyed it without shame, and as a result, so did you. "Your quarters. Take me to them."

    You whimpered, whispering the directions to him as he traveled about the empty house, then into your own room. He didn't bother to close the door, just settled you onto the bed, your back against the linen sheets which you made every single morning without fail. Just once you wished to wake up, and not make your bed. You sighed gently as he placed you onto the bed, his entire body hovering over you and covering you. You felt enveloped in the dark shadow his body cast over you - in that darkness you found so much erratic light that filled your whole body and swelled you. He felt it too, radiating off of you. Bouncing off of each other without even being prompted.

    "Need you," he moaned raggedly, head immediately turning down to kiss your neck, burying his face in the warm crook there.

    His lips dragged against the sweet skin at the crook of your neck, and you moaned, back arching off your bed. Every inch of pleasure you felt, he allowed whole heartedly, never quieting you or shutting you down. His tongue found an intimate spot there and he lapped gently at your skin as if it were your pussy, groaning directly into your ear,

      "Need my cock inside of you. Where I belong."

His words, and the feeling of his breath against your sensitive skin, raised a shiver down your spine. You clutched onto his shoulder, hand and fingers trailing absentmindedly down his back, thus healing any pains or aches that resided there from the damage of the fight. He let out a stuttering moan at the unintentional magic of you flowing through him, at the feeling of uninhibited healing surging through him yet again.

     "Is it true that you need me?" you whispered into his ear, and he pulled away so he could look down at your face, his desirous, somehow still innocent eyes searching yours.

    He nodded,

    "Truer than anything I've ever known."

     Your fingers traced along the side of his face, running through his hair and along his jawline, dipping beneath his chin. You knew your power fully, how you could seduce him, leave him aching for more. You were aware of your divinity, just as you were aware of his own.

      "Prove it," you told him, lips brushing just against his.

He breathed in deeply, a need panging so deep in his chest he found that he would have to wreck you ever so carefully to satisfy it. Deftly, he guided his cock out, holding it firm in his big hand.

     "As you wish," he grunted, and with a simple push, he was inside of you.

Nothing had felt like this before. Nothing could ever feel like this before. The feeling of immediate fullness. The feeling of being so full that you would never need anything more. Thor filled you up with no trouble. Stretching you out was an understatement - he expanded everything inside of you, in every sense of the word. You swore your heart even swelled in that moment, this intense feeling of tenderness that only comes about during the kind of godly lovemaking you were partaking in.

     You jolted upwards, lurching forward as his cock entered you, not ever really adjusting to the surge of light that soared through you as he coaxed himself in with ease. Your body had never felt this way before, so heavenly. To be in such close contact with a god, closer than anyone could ask for - it seemed to grant you powers beyond your imagination. It was like you were being taken to another dimension, just by the feeling of his cock entering you. And as for Thor, never had a woman fit him so well. Never had he felt such a strong sensation of gratification inside a woman, no pleasure allotted like the one he found with you. He refused to pause to take it in, though - he wanted more and more the further he slid inside of you. And it didn't take long to fit all of him inside of you, you were so wet, he slipped in easily.

     "Mhm," your moan came out constricted from your throat, and only then did Thor pause to make sure you were okay, noting the way your eyes were shut tight and your fingers were grasping at the bedsheets around you.

    "Is it-" you didn't allow him to finish speaking, interrupted him with a full moan this time, rocking your hips down until you could take no more of him, and answered,

      "Gods, it's heavenly. Do not stop."

He chuckled at your assertiveness, the way your hand squeezed around his muscly arm as a way of reassuring him.

    "Good, you're alright," he clarified, and pushed in further, his forehead hanging against yours. He panted, lips falling open.

      It was silent except for the sound of both your heavy breaths as he pushed in and out of you, you adjusting to his size and width. As you expected, it wasn't really something to get used to, but that outweighed the immense enjoyment that his cock inside of you brought. His lips were all over you, sometimes mashed against yours in an open mouthed, hot and disconnected kiss, sometimes lolling against the sweet spot at your neck, sometimes further down, attached to your nipple as he curved his angle inside of you. But wherever his lips were, the pleasure was not diminished, and the most obvious sensation was that of him inside of you.

     "Taking me so well, aren't you, Healer?" he called you by your title, as if it held more nobility than it did.

    On Sakaar, your skills weren't appreciated the way they should've been - the way they would've been on Halcyon. It was part of the reason you just assumed the things you wanted should be ignored. But in Thor's mind, the title of a Healer was incredibly noble. Your touch dissolved wounds, and not just at the surface. It was an ability he took seriously. He held you in high regards.

   You replied with a mangled groan, eyes closed as he thrusted in and out of you, deep and slow.

    "Thor," you moaned his name, and his hips stuttered only slightly at the sound of his name leaving your lips. Then he began snapping into you more rhythmically, abandoning the gentle, slow pace he'd adopted so you could "adjust" at first. He was beginning to fuck you now, and you cried out at the realization.

     "Healer, you were made for this," he decided, loving how deliciously his cock twisted inside of you, how he hardly had to control his movements because you took him so well. 

No needing to go slow. No needing to hold back. Just pure, unbridled fucking. You seemed to fit him like a glove, like your pussy was designed for him. Soon enough he could hear the sounds of your slick and arousal each time he entered you, and that turned him on so much that he fucked you faster, harder. The rhythm of his hips swiveling and snapping against your inner thighs, the careful thumb he kept at your clit, was enough to have you lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his waist, keeping him there like a cocoon.

He felt so deep inside you, so fulfilling that you couldn't help the words that stumbled out of your mouth as you approached your orgasm,

    "By gods you are king."

His head snapped up and he grunted primitively, taking your hands in his and pinning your arms out behind your head, pressing his body all the way against yours so you could feel all of him, so that you could feel him so deep it made your head spin. His hips rolled so criminally into you, incoherent sounds and words leaving your mouth as he just fucked into you without a care, bringing you to climax one, then two times as he kept fucking you this way. He followed through with this until he came, twice inside of you. If you felt filled before, you definitely felt it now, his seed spurting inside of you as if it should've been there all along. And as if by divine intervention, you came another time, this time in unison with him as his last load left him.

He was lazy, didn't quite yet want to leave you, didn't want to relinquish the feeling he got being inside you. He was drunk on it. Even when he came he didn't retire the slow, sloppy movements of his hips, his load of cum gushing out of you while he continued. He groaned so loudly into your ear you thought it would ring the next day.

    He stayed inside of you like that for a while, still and motionless, and lay on top of you, your bodies flush against one anothers. Your sweat felt like ambrosia, and you found yourself licking the droplets of sweat that appeared on your lips and the crooks of his shoulders. He kept his cock buried inside of you, kissing sweetly at your lips once in a while. And when he finally left you, his lips still didn't stop kissing every part of you. He left the room briefly, your eyes watching as his naked body walked out of your room, and he came back with a damp rag, gently wiping down every part of your body. You wanted to do the same for him, but he refused, and did it himself, telling you to rest.

    And you needed it. The relief was so great that you could hardly move. Your body seemed to stick. Your head was swarming with cosmic thoughts - but no worries. Just pure relief and bliss- something you had brought upon one another. It was mutualistic, the way you empowered one another, the way that you healed one another.

    After cleaning himself off, Thor sat you up against the pillow and dressed you quietly and calmly. Even his light touches felt orgasmic against your skin, and that didn't necessarily mean sexually. You felt some form of bliss just upon looking at him. This sense of knowing, that even being an empath couldn't give you. You were made for him, just as he was made for you. Your meeting was a flicker of fate. There would be more to come.

    You lay together in the hazy sun, admiring each other, arms and legs still intertwined.

     "Let's take a bath together. It's big enough for the both of us," you suggested, and he nodded with a smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

    "Anything for you my love," he replied.

    "Then let's leave. With my sisters. Let us leave Sakaar, and fight for your Asgard."

Nothing you said had ever felt so right. After all, it was what you wanted.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Sweater Weather

I enjoy the headcanon of Doofus Rick having a variety of sweaters. And after looking at stock photos, I was inspired to write this fic. Hope you guys like it.

In this fic Ricks sweater causes some conflict.

____________

In the great vastness of space, one could learn the true meaning of loneliness. For miles upon miles, floating upon nothing, you could say it was like sailing across the sea. Yet, unlike the salt or crashing waves of the ocean, you two would navigate across star systems or avoid asteroid fields, while at the same time enjoy the peace which comes from being somewhere uncongested. However, as fascinating as it was to go on intergalactic, space adventures, one of the things you didn't enjoy was the extreme temperature changes; most of the time, you'd stay in the ship or stay home if a planet's climate was too cold for your taste, but on this occasion, Rick needed an extra pair of hands when you two stopped on Mars after spending most of the day at the Jerryboree.

After Zeta-7 had traded a few items of his own to obtain what he came for at a reduced price, you two ran as fast as you could back towards the ship, but by the time the ship was out of the Martian orbit, you were chilled to the bone. Rubbing your arms, you shivered. "I wonder if I'll ever get used to this."

Your breath came out like a cloud of smoke and the cold that had seemed mild at first had numbed your face and extremities. Rick turned up the heat, as well as turned on the seat warmers and offered you a freeze-dried Phytonian branch worm, but you passed on the offer. You knew it would have warned you up straight away, but the last time you tried one of those things, you had a stomach ache for three days. Concerned, he placed the ship on autopilot and did his best to search around in the back seat for anything you could use to warm up, but then as though it struck him on the head he groaned. "Darn it, I-I forgot that I removed the spare blanket to wash it."

"Where is it now?"

"I-I left it in the dryer."

You thought of telling him that it wasn't his fault he forgot it since you had distracted him this morning with a video about ninja cats, but it wouldn't have helped the situation. "Ricky," you tried to ease him with a weak smile but your teeth chattered. "it's not a big deal. Besides, we're not that far from home."

However, he wasn't convinced. You weren't as experienced when it came to space travel, but you knew well enough of the possible dangers associated with extreme body temperature shifts. The chill you had spread deep into your bones until you thought you'd rattle if shaken; a lick of fear traveling down your spine but otherwise you didn't feel too bad. Nonetheless, Rick was concerned for your well-being, and knowing you two were hundreds of thousands of miles away from your dimension's version of Earth, he made a decisive decision and started removing articles of his own clothing. "Whoa, what are you doing?"

With a blush, he handed you not only his knitted Jerry sweater but also his labcoat; leaving him in a thin t-shirt which had a snoopy patch on the right shoulder; how cute. "I hope it'll s-suffice until we get home."

"But what about you? What are you going to wear?"

Flashing you a stern look which left little room for argument, you slipped on his sweater and lab coat, and was delighted to feel a little more like yourself and relaxed by its scent; it was his essence; that of vanilla, of his home, and something you couldn't quite think of; chemicals perhaps. "Hmm, your clothes are a lot more comfortable than I expected them to be. How um…..how do I look?"

Turning down the lights and switching back to manual, he nodded. "It suits you m-mi corazón."

You admired its softness and passed your hand over the tight, twisted knit. It was a lovely shade of light sage green, and had a picture of a smiling Jerry holding a titanic ship model; you thought it was sweet that it was a picture of his friend. So many things this man-made or owned had a purpose or a story; this piece was most likely made to brighten up the day that the Jerrys in his care were having. Your Rick really was a good man; better yet because he saw the value in regular folk who probably didn't see it in themselves. "I like your clothes, Rick," you commented; your heart warmed by his goodness. "they seem to carry bits of you in them."

"Th-that could be said about any piece of clothing that's been worn. They carry bits of our DNA." he stated matter of factly.

"Eh….that's... I mean I get that, but that's not where I was going with this. I meant that they're soft and warm like you Ricky. You enjoy dressing comfortably, don't you? You own a variety of sweaters."

"Wh-who doesn't? I've sort of been dressing th-the same way for the last twenty or so years but when I met you, I had more opportunities to dress up. However, the older I get, the more often I'm in need of something a-a bit warmer and gentler on my skin. Actually, some of my clothes are locked to my particular genetic signature so that they'll or adjust according to the weather or climate. That way, I'll have less t-to carry on certain excursions."

"Incredible, that'll certainly come in handy, but can I ask you something?"

"Y-yes?"

"I know you're focused on driving," you started, wondering if your assumptions were correct. "but is there a reason why you haven't looked me in the eyes since we left Mars, or am I just thinking too much?"

He visibly stiffened, but he still didn't face you. Rick seemed troubled, for he tightened his grip on the wheel. Maybe this hadn't been the best time to ask, but what else could you have done? If you didn't ask, how else would you have known? Still, if you had waited, you would've noticed the red light blinking on the control panel sooner. It was a caution light, but you weren't so concerned, but you should've been.

Rick had opened his mouth to answer, with a faraway look in his eyes, but in the blink of an eye he made a sharp left turn around some space junk; jostling you two as well as the cargo. That was another thing you hated about space was Earth's contribution to its pollution. Unknowingly, you two had deviated from the usual course by a few miles, leading you two into a dangerous situation. Whether it was the fault of his navigation equipment or his lack of focus you didn't know, but it took a couple of minutes of evading space junk before you two could breathe a sigh of relief. And at the first opportunity, he switched the ship back to autopilot. "I'm s-sorry about that. I'm usually a better driver." he started, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced out the window in search of an answer in the emptiness of space. You couldn't see anything except for a few stars and the Earth straight ahead, but you had a feeling that where he was looking was somewhere you couldn't see. When he was ready, he turned around in his seat to glance at you, but then quickly turned back to face the steering wheel. How odd. "T-t-to answer your question," he stammered. "y-you're not thinking too much. I've just been distracted."

"Oh, okay."

"Are y-you alright? Nothing hurts does it?"

"I mean, other than feeling wide awake now, no harm was done I guess, but what happened? It isn't like you to let your mind wander while we're out here. Rick, would you like me to take over the wheel so you can straighten out your thoughts?"

"No, it's not - I can do it. I got this."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm, as long as I-I focus on the wheel."

He hadn't really answered your original question, but since you guys nearly avoided death, it probably wasn't a good time.

________

He parked the ship in his garage, and since it wasn't that late, you two walked over to your home. Rick hadn't said much since earlier, but you figured he'd let you know what was bothering him later. As soon as you crossed the threshold of your home, you started a pot of coffee for Rick to drink when it was ready. Then, you got a blanket from the closet and offered it to him just in case he was cold, but he didn't care for one. He was still in a mood, and you wondered if the reason you'd upset him was that you were still wearing his sweater. "You probably want this back right?"

Slipping out of his sweater and labcoat, you felt the temperature difference immediately and took up the blanket you had taken out and wrapped it around yourself. "Thanks for letting me borrow them. I'll be sure to pack something with me next time."

"I'm n-not sure if that's such a-a good idea." he said with seriousness.

"What do you mean?"

The lines around his eyes deepened, as well as the creases of his forehead, and there was a pensive cloudiness of his usually electric blues. Frustrated, he bit down on his lip almost hard enough to make it bleed. "B-because it's distracting."

"What?"

He continued. "I-I should've brought you home first or gotten the parts a different time."

"But I thought you wanted help." you sniffled.

"Y-you don't understand."

"What's there to understand?" you retorted; sinking into the couch as tears stung the back of your eyes, and threatened to come out. "You...you don't want me to help you anymore? I thought we were a team."

Your saddened state shifted his sour mood, and he apologized. "Gosh, please don't cry mi corazón, I-I didn't mean it."

"But you sai-"

"I'm not upset at you," he reassured you. "I'm disappointed in myself for allowing this to happen. I've become complacent and I-I should've been prepared. You could've gotten sick, hurt, or worse just because I got distracted. Next time I'll bring you your own sweater and snacks or whatever you want."

"Is it because you don't want me wearing yours? Did I ruin it or something?"

"No, it's because," he swallowed, unsure how to broach the subject. "cuando lo usas, es… es apretado."

What? You understood the part where he said you used it, but not the rest. Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you asked Google what all of that just meant, but the answer you got didn't help. "Rick, should I be offended?"

"I-I hope not. I promise it's not what you're thinking."

"Then what is it? I'm not getting any clear answers here."

"I um - I'm sorry if I offended you. It's not what I intended to do. I know what I'm about t-to tell you sounds silly since I had hoped I'd outgrow this, but I still feel shy around you."

This much you did know. He was overly conscious of himself, his actions, and how he might disappoint or be lacking, but most of all was hateful of his own inadequacies. Yet, for where he found fault, you found virtue and you would remind him of that, but in this case, you simply needed to listen. "That's okay, I already knew that."

"I don't feel like that all the time, but today I got embarrassed all of a sudden. I-I don't know what happened. Y-you were wearing my clothes and I saw your silhouette in the starlight and I got nervous."

Huh? That's what was bothering him?

"Why?"

"It um - it made me wonder what it'd be like if we lived together and…oh, it's embarrassing."

The hand which he had resting on the couch gripped the fabric tightly, and he was mortified because he had been distracted by you; which under normal circumstances he'd be able to remain calm. Covering his hand with yours, you gave him a squeeze."No, I would like to hear what you were thinking about very much."

Lacing his fingers with yours, you two sat there for a matter of minutes as he gathered his thoughts together. When he calmed a little, he confessed. "I thought about what it'd be like t-to wake up right next t-to you and not be alone anymore. I-I think about it a lot."

"Oh." That hadn't been what you expected. However, was it really so strange? He had intended to propose months ago, but ever since the moment had been spoiled he hadn't attempted to try again; if it had gone well, you two might've been married by now. Though, who was to say he didn't dream of it? Of what he'd always wanted, of a family or of the life in which he needed? Perhaps gentle encouragement wouldn't hurt.

"You know," you responded with a serious, but gentle candor. "you're not the only one who thinks about us living together. I'm very happy here and I love what we do together. And although we've had times where we respected one another's space, I don't mind if that changes. However, there are things that aren't so simple. For example, if I would've known that I could borrow your clothes whenever I liked I would've done so more often. Though, only if you hadn't been concerned about me getting accidentally poisoned by chemicals or radiation. Remember that time you literally fought with the laundry?"

"I do remember," he answered wistfully. "it's what prompted me t-to teach you how to use the freeze ray and laser gun correctly."

"I think the longer we're together, the more our lives will intertwine. Meaning, the more we move forward, the more training I'm going to need to fit into this lifestyle of ours. I think I'm going to need a portable scanner that'll allow me to check your clothes before I think of putting them on."

With serious, but tender eyes, he studied you. Then, he picked up his sweater which sat between you two and wondered. "Y-you want to wear my clothes? A great deal of them have seen better days. Are y-you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," you brightened. "because I love the way your clothes smell. If you were away, it'd make me think of you and it...I don't know, makes us seem more domestic. Is that along the lines of what you were thinking?"

"Y-yeah."

"Cool. Glad to know we're on the same page."

Relieved, he pressed a kiss to your temple and seemed ready for that cup of coffee. And as you stood, ready to head to the kitchen to prepare it for him, you mentioned. "And by the way, I gotta tell you something important."

"Gee, what is that?"

Striking a pose, you made him chuckle; that was a good sign. "That it's totally cool to be into me and check me out. I don't mind, and it makes me happy that I know what it takes to catch your eye. However, there's an exception: when we're driving around in space, where anything could kill us, we gotta keep our eyes on the space around us unless on autopilot. Only then," you winked. "might it be okay to be a little distracted."

Fin

[imaginedisish]

Fakin’ It (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: SORRY FOR THE DELAY...nothing else was posted, and this got posted so late only because this imagine may or may not be like...3,000+ words..... oops. Anyway, y’all asked for fluff, here it is. Also, this is somewhat based on the Simon and Garfunkel song, Fakin’ It. Okay, it’s 1:57am, I have to be up at 6...goodnight everyone :) and enjoy :) (also, I say this in the story, but you and Five are around 18/19 in this fic)

Summary: You and Five have obvious chemistry, but you’re both oblivious to the fact that you’re in love with each other. It takes a life threatening fight with The Handler and The Commission to make Five realize he needs to tell you how he really feels.

Warnings: Language, angst, killing, guns, killing with guns???, FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!

Word Count: 3,678 TOO LONG AH. but too bad bc i was inspired asf.

A warm breeze swirls around you, capturing you in the tight embrace of the sweet summer air. Birds sing happily throughout the courtyard, gossiping to each other as they carefully watch your chess game. Maybe they were pondering your next move, or maybe they had recognized the obvious feelings you had for the midnight-brown haired boy sitting in front of you, and felt the need to chirp loudly on and on about it. 

His eyes catch each individual ray of light that extended itself down to the courtyard, the rays transforming into sparkles, glimmering in his ocean eyes. You knew there was no chance of winning this game, you were far too distracted by the way Five casually basked in the sun. 

You move your king up a spot, hoping for a chance to possibly take the game once and for all. To your dismay, a smirk slowly but surely spreads across Five’s face. He stares down at the board picks up his black queen from her spot. Your eyes widen. You saw his perfect move. It was like witchcraft. 

“Check mate,” Five says, his queen knocking over your final king, his piercing blue eyes peering up into yours. “Should’ve kept that king in the back row there,” He states matter of factly, pointing to your now fallen king. Five’s smirk widens as he crosses his right ankle over his left knee, his arms folding nonchalantly against his chest. 

Diego or Luther would have reacted by throwing the board across the room in a fit of anger. Allison would have scoffed, secretly upset by her brother’s win. Klaus would’ve won by default, simply through the method of pestering Five with far too many questions, driving Five to the brink of insanity. But you? You weren’t bothered by the loss at all. You didn’t care what you were doing with Five, as long as you got to spend time with him. 

He could beat you at chess every day for the rest of your life, and it wouldn’t matter to you, all because it was him, and only him that you were sitting here with.

“Maybe I let you win,” you joke, shooting a smile in Five’s direction. For the record, you most definitely did not let him win. Chess was in no way, shape or form your strong suit. Five on the other hand, was a master. 

Five giggles a bit, his smirk turning into a wide smile, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks. “Oh really now?” He questions, arching his eyebrows as he leans back in the black, wrought iron garden chair he was sitting in. “I beg to differ.”

Then, Five pushes himself out of his chair, and with an abrupt flash of bright blue light, he had disappeared. You felt your heart involuntarily sink to the bottom of your chest. Where did he go? Why did he leave? You think to yourself, a small frown making its way across your face.

“Surprise!” You hear a voice shout from behind you as two hands grab onto your shoulders forcefully. You let out a screech, freaked out by the unexpected “surprise”. You instantly whip your head around. 

There was Five, laughing so hard he was doubled over, his hands on his knees, his bangs bouncing against his forehead. His laughter only grew by the second, changing into what sounded like a hyaena cackling. You try your very best to suppress the smile that was slowly stretching across your face, not wanting Five to know you’re entertained by his hijinks. 

“You scared the shit out of me!” You try to shout, but it comes out as more of a heavy laugh. You jokingly punch Five in the shoulder.

He pretends to wince, and grabs at the “wounded” area in response. “I didn’t know you were so violent, (Y/N),” Five says, his jaw dropping as he acts as though he’s in pain. “I guess I’ll just have to get my revenge!” Five leaps towards you, picking you up, lifting you high enough that your stomach is pressing against his shoulder, and your upper body drapes against his back. 

“Put me down!” You laugh loudly, lightly drumming your fists rhythmically against Five’s back. 

“No way,” He chuckles, walking around the courtyard now. “This is payback.” You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling widely, his eyebrows arched up, his ego shining through his blue eyes. 

“Well, what’s going on here?” A new voice chimes in from the opposite side of the courtyard. Five quickly turns around, and within seconds you’re put back down on the ground. You turn around as well, to see the face of the familiar voice. 

Merely feet away stood Klaus, decked out in a flowy, navy blue skirt that you instantly recognized was your own. Klaus, however, some how pulled it off way better than you ever could have. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Five says, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he lifts his chin up a bit, almost to assert dominance over his brother. The word nothing repeats in your head over and over again. The moment you and Five had just shared did not feel like nothing to you. It felt like a million butterflies flying around in your stomach. It felt like your heart had made a new home in your throat. The feeling was intense, and it hurt a bit to hear Five call what he felt in that moment, “nothing.” 

Klaus looks to you, his black-lined eyes searching yours for some sort of explanation as to what was happening, but you give none. You look to Five, who’s eyes are menacingly fixed on Klaus, and then down to the ground. 

You hear Klaus hum a bit, almost as if he’s studying the situation in his head, taking mental notes as he stares at you and Five. “Well,” Klaus says finally, “I’d like to talk to (Y/N),” Klaus pauses a second, “Alone, brother, if you wouldn’t mind.” Klaus finishes, holding up his right hand in a fist. He opens up his palm towards Five, revealing his message: “Goodbye”. 

Five scoffs. “Fine then,” He rolls his eyes to Klaus before turning to you. “I’ll be in the library when you’re done talking to the ouija board, okay?” You nod, and Five smiles. He turns around and starts to walk away. 

“I find that extremely offensive, dear brother. Especially after all I’ve done for you. World peace? Snow Globe? Remember?” Klaus shouts sarcastically at Five. 

Five doesn’t bother to turn around. Instead, he simply flips Klaus off, and slips through one of the French doors that lead back into the Academy. You can’t help but let out a small giggle at Five’s response. 

“Alright, enough of the secret chess games! Tell me what’s going on between you and the resident asswipe!” Klaus sings, a wide, toothy smile spreading across his face. You shake your head in reply. 

“There’s nothing going on, Klaus,” You sigh, walking back over to where you and Five had been playing your game. You pull out the garden chair you had been sitting on from under the table, and plop yourself down. “I thought…maybe…” You trail off, looking down at the chess board. “No, never mind. There is no maybe. It’s a no, the biggest no on the planet.”

Klaus pulls out the chair across from you, and sits down. “I really don’t think that’s the case here, (Y/N),” Klaus says, shaking his head in disagreement. “Five doesn’t act like that with just anyone. I’ve known him for years, and I can tell you’re special to him. You’ve been special to him from the very minute we all met you.” 

You smile a bit, thinking back to the day when you met the Hargreeves. It was a crisp fall day, and you sat in a booth at your favorite diner. Five, Klaus and Diego walked in, and Five had immediately caught your eye. There was just something so special about him. 

However, things seemingly took a turn for the worse when the Commission appeared at the diner. What the room didn’t know was that you were a super, just like the Hargreeves were. You stood atop the counter you had been eating at, and began to lift certain pieces of furniture in the room with your mind. The Commission stood shocked, shaking in their boots, especially since you were able to disarm them as they stood in awe of your power. 

You and the three Hargreeves brothers destroyed the Commission members with your powers, and the few who survived fled for their lives. 

One thing confused the boys, however. It was the fact that you were 18, just like Five. You explained to them that you weren’t one of the 43 births, you were one of a kind. With this, your friendship with the Hargreeves family quickly grew. They took you in, helping you learn to control your abilities. You learned about them as well, and how Five and his family saved the world from the apocalypse. 

Five told you everything about him within the first few days of your meeting. After traveling back to the present following saving the world, his body aged an extra five years, turning him from 13 to 18. Of course, he was really much older on the inside, but that didn’t bother you. You two became extremely close, running off from time to time to be alone with each other, just to vent and talk about things.

But god, had you come to love that boy. Those eyes, his sarcasm, his wit, his-

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)!” Klaus calls out, waving his left palm in your face, and you’re forced to come back to reality. “What the hell was that?” He laughs. 

“Sorry, I got lost in thought,” You say softly, smiling in Klaus’s direction. “But I just don’t know about this, Klaus. Five hasn’t ever told me that he has feelings for-,”

Klaus cuts you off. “Five doesn’t talk about feelings. ‘Feelings’, is not a word in the Five Hargreeves dictionary. You have to talk to the dumb kid yourself.” Klaus leans back in his chair, resting his hands on the back of his head. 

“I really rather not get my heart broken, Klaus,” You say, hiding the pain you had already been feeling with a small laugh. 

Klaus sighs, contemplating his next words. “Well, at the end of the day it’s your choice, but telling him how you feel would definitely be the best one,” Klaus says, pushing out his chair and standing up. He steps a bit closer to you, extending his right hand to your left shoulder. “Trust me, I think you’d be surprised with his response. Think it over, okay? Ben just said he agrees with me. Ben, of all people, wants you to do this, so it must really be destiny.” 

You nod, “Fine, I’ll think it over.” Klaus smiles, nodding right back to you. He walks towards one of the sets of French doors, and steps back inside the Academy. 

You look down at the chess game, studying the pieces carefully. 

“Playing by yourself there?” You hear a familiar woman’s voice question from behind you. You knew that voice far too well, and you were terrified to turn around and see her face. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask harshly, refusing to greet the woman properly. However, unfortunately for you, she intrudes your space, sitting down in the garden chair Five, and then Klaus had once sat in. 

“That’s no way to talk to The Handler, darling,” She coos, patting the top of your head lightly. You finally look up at her, her grey hair presiding atop her head in a clean bun. A devious smile stretches across her face, warning all those who see her, that she is most certainly up to no good. 

“I asked you a fucking question.” Your voice is shaky and filled with anger now, since you had begun to put things together. She was most likely here to go after Five for altering the timeline. He must’ve messed with it one too many times. You push yourself out of your chair, jumping back a bit. “Why are you here? Answer me!” You command. 

The Handler laughs. “I will say, (Y/N), your instincts are quite good. I noticed that the minute I met you. When was that? A year ago I believe. The diner, don’t you remember?” She continues the conversation as if there’s no gun in her hand, no real reason to visit the Hargreeves household.

“Get on with it,” You say angrily. 

“Well, Five needs to be punished for his…” she trails off, tapping her index finger against her chin as she searches for the right words. “well to be quite honest, for his insanely dangerous and terrible offenses against The Commission, and the universe.” 

You step towards her, making fists with your hands. “I swear, if you lay one finger on him, I’m taking you down.” Your voice is menacing and filled with intent. 

“Wait, you really think…oh my goodness you’re an absolute riot!” The Handler shouts as she begins to cackle. “Oh dear, we aren’t going to physically hurt Number Five, we’re going to scar him emotionally,” She pauses, extending her hand to your forearm, “by killing you.” 

Your jaw drops, and you pull away from The Handler’s touch. You sprint towards the nearest set of French doors, and you make your way inside the mansion. 

“Five!” You scream, running as fast as you can down the hallway and into the library. 

“No need to scream, I’m right here,” Five says, putting down the book he was reading, and standing up from the couch. He studies your face, easily reading the fear in your eyes. He then notices that you’re trembling. “Is everything okay? What happened?” Five questions, rushing over to you, grabbing your hands in his. 

“Th-the H-Handler is outside, F-Five,” You stutter, struggling to get your words out. “A-and she says she’s g-going t-to k-kill me.” Five immediately lets go of your hands, and begins to rush towards the door. 

Suddenly, two gunmen approach the door from the outside, blocking Five from leaving the mansion. You hear the sound high heels clicking echo through the library.

“Hello there, Five, long time no see!” The Handler exclaims. Five rolls his eyes. 

“You aren’t going to hurt her, I won’t let it happen,” Five says, taking a step towards the Handler as he points back to you. 

“Oh trust me, Five, I know. That’s why I’ve brought hired help with me,” She says, snapping her fingers. “Oh boys, come on out!” The Handler calls, and suddenly the room is filled with The Commission’s worst level of gunmen. 

Before you could even comprehend the situation, Five grabs your hand, sprinting as he pulls you across the library. 

“Open fire! But spare the boy! His punishment is going to be much worse than the girls!” The Handler screams, the fake sweetness in her voice replaced with something evil, something malignant. 

Gun shots echo off the walls of the Academy as Five swings open a door, revealing a walk in closet filled with coats. He pushes you inside, and follows after you, softly closing the door shut. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” You ask, your eyes searching Five’s for some sort of solution. He rubs his face anxiously, pacing frantically around the small space. 

Then, he stops in his tracks, and turns towards you. “I don’t know, but I know that I am not going to let them do anything to you. I wouldn’t be able to survive without you.” Five takes a step towards you. He looks down at the ground, and back up towards you. “There are so many things I need to say, but I just don’t know how to tell you, or how much time we have…” Five trails off, his eyes becoming glossy. 

“W-what are you talking about?” You ask, confused as to what Five means. 

He takes your hands in his. “If we don’t make it out of this, or if I don’t make it out of this, I need you to know h-how m-much you mean to me,” Five says, swallowing harshly. “You’re just, so special, so witty, so beautiful.” 

Your heart beats out of your chest. 

Five takes a deep breath, “Fuck, I hate this shit…feelings…” He trails off nervously. “Goddammit, I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I have been for a while. I-I just needed you to know that, if I, well if I die, and I just-,” 

You cut Five as your lips come crashing down on his. The kiss is slow and soft, and you silently wished to yourself, as you smile against Five’s lips, that it never had to end. Yet, you knew what had to be done. You knew it was you who had to take a stand against the gunmen, and not Five. You pull yourself away from Five, feeling empty now that you two have parted. 

“I love you, Five,” You say, tears filling your eyes. You take a few steps backwards, reaching for the doorknob. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that. I’m sorry if I don’t come back. Just know how much you mean to me,” You choke, opening the door knob and running out of the room, and back towards the library. 

“NO!” Five screams, sprinting behind you, trying his best to catch up. But, it’s no use as you find your way into the library, surrounded by the gunmen.

All at once, the gunmen take their aim. You shut your eyes, and lift your hands to the side as the sound of a million guns firing rings out throughout the Academy. You exert all of the force and energy you have inside of you out towards the bullets flying through the air. 

You hear an intense ringing in your ears, and immense pain in your head. It felt like the walls were closing in, like everything was coming crashing down around you. You scream in agony, not sure what it was that you were feeling. 

And then, almost instantly, things go back to normal.

After a few seconds of feeling absolutely nothing, you open your eyes. Around you, suspended in air, were the bullets shut by the gunmen, each bullet flipped around to be aimed towards each shooter. You managed to pull their guns from their hands as well. 

More importantly, to your surprise, time had stopped, and everything had froze. 

That’s new, You think to yourself. 

You begin to tremble in place, sweat dripping down your forehead as you start to struggle to control your powers. You recognize you have no choice but to let go of the bullets. It was either kill, or be killed. 

Instinctively, you release your control, and the bullets go flying back to the gunmen, and time starts up again. The gunmen fall to the ground. 

You did it. Fucking hell, I actually did it. 

And then, you feel yourself becoming woozy, your knees growing weak. You feel yourself starting to collapse from all the energy you had used.

Suddenly, your eyes shut, and the world goes black. 

“(Y/N)? Wake up! Come on, stay with me! I can’t lose you, please wake up!” You hear Five shout, his voice extremely muffled. Everything around you feels like it’s spinning. You needed to open your eyes, you needed to see that everything was fine.

“Five, take a step back. She needs some air,” Klaus interjects, and Five presumably stays exactly where he is. 

Your eyes slowly begin to open again. Five was hovering over you, his fingers gently combing through your hair. “Is everything okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

“Well,” Five pauses, smiling a bit as he looks around the room. “I suppose things are okay now,” He says calmly, helping you to sit up further. You let out a small laugh. 

“Alright,” You say, trying to stand up. You stumble a bit, practically falling over completely, but Five is there to catch you. He brings you over to the couch, and helps you sit down. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Five asks, shyly reaching for your hands. “How exactly did you do…well…all this?” 

“I’m not sure,” You say honestly, looking deeply into Five’s eyes. “But I do remember what you said in the closet, before I did all this.” You smile widely. 

“I meant what I said, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’ve been faking it, you know? Trying to suppress my feelings, hiding them from you, but it was useless,” Five explains. He takes a deep breath. “This sounds disgustingly cliche, and I hate that, but I really am in love with you, (Y/N).”

Just like before, Five’s words felt like a million butterflies flying around your stomach. They felt like your heart had travelled all the way to your throat. The feeling was intense, but this time it didn’t hurt. There was no pain. There was no more “faking it” as Five had put it. 

“Thank god! Finally! I’ve known this entire time. You two are so amazingly obviously to your surroundings!” Klaus excitedly exclaims, popping up from behind the couch. 

“Shut it, dickhead!” Five yells. You can’t help but let out a laugh. 

You inch your face closer to Five’s, and you surprise him as your lips come in contact with his, distracting him from Klaus’s intrusion. You feel Five smile against your lips, which makes your heart melt.

No more faking it, You think to yourself. No more danger. 

You pull apart from the dark haired, blue eyed boy in front of you. 

“And I’m in love with you, Five,” You say softly. He grins widely, and leans in to kiss you again.