#ive written many first meetings but none of them has Clicked for me. i need a good inciting incident

[kikuism]

the reason the kaname doc is taking forever is 1) i don't know if i want the story to be lush and meandering or fast and punchy and 1) i don't know if kaname is an unstoppable force or immovable object

[burnedbyshoto]

Four Times Dabi Wanted You; The One Time He Got You

Kinktober Day 2 ~ kink: sexual frustration

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cussing

word count: 6,514

a/n: day twoooo!!!!!! this one is by far my fav... again its only the second one Ive written so....yeAH LMAO!!!!!!! I am so hot for dabi its not even funny anymore!!! please enjoy >:)

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Four

Dabi pants as he pulls the lip of his water bottle away from him. He wipes his hand against his mouth. Cooling down his burning skin and drying his mouth. With the league’s increasing popularity, he had to start training with the others. Defeat was no longer allowed by Shigaraki, and defeat was not something they wished for.

Dabi's quirk was powerful, there was no denying that! The issue arose with the way it was burning him out from the inside out. So there was only so much he could do without turning into a crisp.

Dabi didn't mind that much as long as he could continue training with you. His eyes locked on you from a distance.

You pulled your arms over your head, and your head is rolling in circles. You’re cooling down.

Five weeks ago you had shown up, a new recruit found by none other than Sako. You had seemed innocent enough, someone Dabi definitely would have never recruited himself. You were so benign seeming, too bland. You had a vivacious smile and stargazing expression. Those traits further solidified the idea you were in over your head. That was until he observed you in action.

Your quirk was horrifying, to say the least. Called Fission and Fusion, you were able to split living cells apart and put them together. It was terrifying the way you had sent Spinners' arms and legs flying away. The single-action sent entire league ready to both to unite you onto their lineup, and of course, kill you. Your laughter was sweet, your head bowing in apology as you retrieved Spinner's limbs. You reattached it with a smile, soon pointing out the lack of blood everywhere.

There was also no denying that you were attractive, hell, the entire league had a thing for you. Dabi, however, was the most adamant in denying his attraction to you. Even as most of their feelings for you faded, Dabi’s remained strong. As if it was there with a vengeance. He obsessed over you but never once let you in on that secret.

The smug bastard, Sato, was the League’s hero--oh the irony. All because he found a recruit they could use as a healer and a fighter. It was soon discovered that there was a major limitation to your quirk. First, you couldn’t use it on yourself, and second, burns weren’t something you could quite fix.

For the most part, your quirk didn’t help much with Dabi’s overexertion of his own quirk. You would, of course, try your best. Your fingers trailing his purple scars as your fingertip glowed. Dabi always felt a bit better after those touches, but it didn’t ever stop the burning sensation under his skin. He was grateful, it still helped.

His eyes continued to gaze at your closed eyes. Your arms circling in front of you, and Dabi watched as your breasts squeeze because of those actions. He watches the sweat from your face roll down your neck and into your cleavage. The trail of sweat disappears, and he takes a few slow blinks. It was almost like it was teasing him, and he blinked again. He feels a strange arousal at the sight of your glistening cleavage. Shaking it off, his eyes travel back up to your face.

You were looking at him, an amused grin on your face as you saunter over.

“You need some help there?” You ask, a smirk on your face as Dabi shrugs his shoulders.

“Go wild.” He replies sticking out his arm for you. Dabi won't give you the satisfaction of your perverted question. You plop down on the floor beside him, your warm fingers touching his burnt skin.

You trail your fingers up and down his smoke smelling arms, and Dabi relishes in the warmth of your hands.

“What were you staring at earlier?” You tease as you grab his right arm. Although nowhere near as used as his left arm, his right arm was equal in burns.

Dabi shrugs, leaning onto his left arm, his eyes flicker over to the view he has of your cleavage. “I had zoned out.”

You clicked your tongue, but you drop it as your fingers heal over the few cuts he has on his chest.

“You’ve been improving though,” Dabi states, catching you off guard by the looks of it. “You’ve improved a lot over the last five weeks.”

A laugh vibrates through your throat, as you pull away, your hands pressing onto your lap. “I did go from sorta being able to kick your ass, to completely kicking your ass.” You agree and the smile on your face has never once withering.

“You only won the first time because I was caught off guard,” Dabi retorts. His blue eyes rolling as he runs a hand through his sweaty locks.

“You’re not the type to underestimate anyone, Dabi!” You cackle and Dabi once again looks you over. Were you always this damn hot?

“I wasn’t underestimating you,” Dabi disagrees, a smirk coming to his face. Dabi stares at you as he now craves a new expression on your face. He stares at you with hooded eyes and your smile waivers. “Do you want to know the truth?”

There’s a pregnant pause, but you soon nod, your eyes sealing over with the decision.

“It’s because you’re hot to look at,” Dabi admits. A victorious smirk comes over his features at the blush that stains your cheeks. Your mouth opens to respond, but Dabi’s closing in on you for some reason. His eyes hooded, and you find yourself compelled by some outside force as you try to meet him halfway.

Something knocks into you at full force, and you’re on the ground as Toga straddles you grinning atop of your waist.

“Y/l/n-chan!” Toga giggles as she hides her face behind the sleeves of her schoolgirl uniform. “I’ve been waiting for you to finish with Dabi for so long now! I have so many cute people I need to show you!”

Dabi exhales as he watches the two of you discuss the plans you had in store. Dabi can only watch as you flash an apologetic smile and leave.

He watches you run away with Toga, a bright smile back on your face, and an unknown feeling sits heavy in his gut.

Thinking about it, Dabi ponders as he tries to figure out what he is feeling right now. It takes a moment, but as he thinks back to the way your fingers touch his arm. The way he had tried to kiss you made his stomach squeeze. Oh, no.

Dabi wanted you.

This day was not the last one like this to happen, nor was it the first. Only now it happened to be the first time he had noticed how fucking hot you were.

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Three

~ Two Months Later ~

Recruiting was the best and worst thing Dabi did for the league.

He wasn’t going to lie. There was something so glorious and wonderful about killing these men. Men who thought they were better than everyone else. He loved the way they would scream for mercy while dying in front of him.

What he didn’t like were the initial conversations. The begrudged talks he had to have before he decided to kill them. Only so that he could tell Shigaraki that he did his job “correct” and perfect. Yet lately, it seemed that no one believed Dabi when he said he talked to the groups of potential followers. They weren’t wrong to believe that, but it still annoyed Dabi to see that you were waiting for him this morning.

There you stood with your given upgrades to your costume. You played a game on your phone as Dabi walked down the hallway. Your eyes locked on his, and there was a smile on your face. Dabi hated you, or so that’s what he kept telling himself. He hated your smile especially because it made his stomach flip, and there was no reason for that. He walked right past you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and groaned under his breath when you followed him out.

So Dabi now stood by the entrance of an alleyway, and you were three steps to his right.

Your damn outfit was attention capturing. The fitted suit highlighted every single damn curve you had. You had garnered the attention of the masses of people waiting for the two of you, so Dabi wanted to kill them. Who the fuck did they think they were staring at his girl--no, you.

The look on your face was one of complacency. You flirted back with every single catcall, your eyes holding a mysterious glint as you did so. Hell, Dabi watched on as you stood next to one of the men, your lips by his ear, and his entire face flushed red. The man went to grab your waist to pull you closer, but you were three steps ahead. You were already walking back towards Dabi.

There was no doubt in Dabi’s mind that none of them deserved to join. They had an interest in you, not the group's movement! So when you pressed a hand to his shoulder, Dabi feared the worst as he bent down for you.

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear stirred something from within him. The hot flow of air further increasing his heightened need for you. But it was the words that left your lips that sealed the last nail in his coffin.

“Kill them all.”

Dabi smirked his eyes locking on your bright eyes. The brightness was sadistic, very hidden under the brightness of your energy. He growled lowly, his lust increasing by tenfold, and all while staring into your eyes, he shot his left hand out.

Blue flames illuminated the alleyway in a blink of an eye. The shrieks and screams made the two of you gaze at the burning bodies in silence.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Dabi says after the last shrieks end. You glance up at him, a giggle leaving your lips.

“Because I’m super innocent?” You ask, your bottom lip captured between your teeth. Dabi wants nothing more than to slam his mouth on yours and bite down on that lip. To hear your pant his name while the bodies crumbled into dust beside you. “I’m not as innocent as you think me to be.”

The tone seems innocent enough, but the look on your face makes Dabi stop a groan from leaving his mouth. It’s sinister, yet overwhelming and hot, and he feels himself growing in his pants. So, he takes a step towards you, and he delights in the fact you stand your ground. “I would agree but you’re as innocent as I know you to be.” Dabi counters.

A lazy grin stapled onto his face. Your eyes swimming with a bunch of emotions Dabi can’t pinpoint. “You’re a great fighter, don’t get me wrong.” He takes another step, his eyes now blazing into yours. A triumphant smirk lacing his face as you step back. “But, you don’t seem like a killer.”

Another step backward. “After all, princess, you did command me to kill them all. You could’ve taken them without a sweat.”

He has you pressed against the alleyway walls. The cold brick digging into your backside, as you stare at Dabi, your mouth opened ever so slightly.

It seems, though, you may have guessed exactly what Dabi was feeling because your eyes sparkle. A smile graces your face against as you look at him through your heavy lashes. “I just think it’s hot when a man does my job for me.”

Dabi chuckles, his hands pressing on the sides of your head. “I think I can deal with that.” He whispers, leaning into your face wanting nothing more than to make you his right here, right now.

Your eyes don’t close even as he draws nearer, the look of defiance making his cock twitch in anticipation. But a phone rings in his pocket right before he can press his mouth to yours.

Dabi groans, the spell over the two of you broken as he takes out his phone. Putting it to his ear.

“What?” He almost growls.

“Did you find anyone? I sent y/n with you so that there could be one potential coming back.” Shigaraki’s voice questions, his tone annoyed and hopeful.

“They were all terrible, y/n thought so, too.” Dabi sighs rubbing his face, and he glances over at you, who merely shrugs.

Now Dabi had a boner to deal with, and a certain girl would not be readily available to help him.

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Two

~ One Week Later ~

Dabi walked to the bathroom. He frowned when he figured out that it was not free, and he trained his ears a bit. The shower was on. Sighing, he turned and walked to the much further bathroom in their house.

He peed and went down to the living room. The living room is small, with only a couch and a few individual chairs. The floor was also more comfortable than some of these chairs! In fact, there were more people on that floor than in a seat. Everyone had gathered tonight because they decided they all wanted to “bond.” So Toga and you had suggested a movie night, and much to Dabi’s annoyance everyone agreed. He sat down on the couch, grateful that everyone else was on the floor or on chairs. Dabi scanned the room, looking to see who wasn’t there.

Everyone was there except--

“Where’s Y/n?” Sako asked, his eyes darting around. Dabi rolled his eyes as he slouched on the couch. Of course, it was you in the shower.

“In the shower!” Toga chirped. “She came back all bloody and cute, but she wanted to get it all off…”

“Ew blood is disgusting!” Twice yelled, “I LOVE IT!”

Dabi groaned as everyone began bickering. They argued if the blood of one’s enemies on you was hot. Dabi had to agree though, it was hot. He didn't join in on the conversation though.

“Sorry!” You chirped from the entranceway, and everyone cheered at finally being able to get the movie on the roll. Dabi felt the couch shift from beside him, and you hopped onto the stiff cushion beside him.

Dabi glances over at you and immediately regretted doing so. You were wearing an oversized sweater that fell to your mid-thigh. Dabi could not keep his eyes away from you, his eyes trailing down your shapely legs. Your animate arms moved as you explained what had happened. But Dabi wasn’t quite paying attention to what you were saying. He only knew that he was damn positive he could smell your citrus and berry shampoo from where he sat. It was not his favorite smell, but on you, it was quick to arouse him.

His eyes fell over the swell of your breast, and he glanced at the logo. He froze. The blood that was rushing through his body frozen as he realized who’s sweatshirt that was.

It was fucking Sako’s sweatshirt! Dabi felt his upper lip curl into a snarl as he shifted back towards the television. Now Dabi was uncaring for the conversation. As the movie finally began, the conversations stopped. Everyone invested in the scenes unfolding before their eyes. Toga had for dumb reason brought back the Lego Movie, and so that was what they were watching.

Why the fuck did you have Sako’s shit? Dabi’s thoughts trailed as he glanced over at you, and you were whispering to Shigaraki.

Rolling his eyes, he thought of you in his own clothes. He was definitely going to burn that sweatshirt off your body once he had you under his body. You would look so pretty with your mouth around his cock. Stunning when your back will arch off the bed. Dabi could see himself pounding into you until you couldn’t do anything but scream his name. Beautiful as you were on all fours, you back arched as he took you from behind, his name a prayer on your tongue.

Dabi inhaled sharply as you brush your hair to the side, and the waft of aroma from your hair hit him at full force. His pants felt tight as he sat there, trying his best not to grab you at this very moment and make you his. He would not care if the others looked or not! Hell, Dabi figured it would be better for them to look as he drilled into you. It would mean no one could question who you belonged to. You belonged to him.

Dabi stilled as you almost appeared at his side. Your hand on his shoulder as you pressed your mouth by his ear, “I wanted to let you know that I can handle myself just fine.”

It takes everything within Dabi to not turn you on your backside and drill you into the couch. Your words are teasing and taunting him. Instead, Dabi grips his thighs and he nods. “Is that what you were doing?”

“That among a few other things.” Your tone is teasing as you shift back to your original position, and Dabi stares at you. It was as if you were doing this on purpose.

The way you had dressed up? You knew that he was possessive of the things he wanted, and to be wearing a sweatshirt he didn’t know you had until now? The outfit was an entire tease. The way that he could only see your hands, neck, and legs. It was as if you wanted to rile him up. Especially with you tossing your hair every three seconds. It was getting harder and harder to ignore you.

So Dabi sat there, his nostrils flaring as the movie continued on. He couldn’t hear the movie anymore. Dabi was hyperaware of the delicious giggles that left your lips. Giggles that paralleled whenever something funny happened in the film. His ears picking up on your voice whenever you talked with Shigaraki. It was pissing him off.

The movie wrapped up without a hitch, and everyone quickly retreated back to their rooms. That is except Dabi and you. Dabi was trying to conceal his hard-on. He did anything to make sure you wouldn’t see because he wasn’t going to give you the benefit of a victory over him. You were cleaning up the few messes people had left behind. You hummed to yourself as you cleaned up the few pieces of popcorn that had hit the floor. Brushing past Dabi with an apology, you bent down in front of him. The action revealed a pair of navy blue booty shorts. Shorts that sent Dabi over the edge in the aspect of his mental strength.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you walked to the kitchen. You tossed the trash away with a satisfied nod. You finished cleaning up, and you were now ready for bed.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Dabi’s voice rustles against your neck, and you still. His chest pressed against your shoulders. You can feel his aroused dick pressed against your lower back, and a grin overcomes your features.

You delight in the way his fingers seize your waist, and you can’t keep yourself from rolling your hips. Your ass dragging pleasingly against his crotch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about?” You innocuously state, your hands gripping his pants to keep Dabi close.

“Now, now, love.” Dabi presses his lips to your neck. You groan slightly as the cool metal of his piercings conflict with your warm skin. “I know you’re not an idiot… don’t play dumb.”

You tilt your head to the side, giving him more room on your skin, and you once more roll your hips. He hisses softly against your neck. You laugh as the adrenaline courses through your veins making you giddy. This was something you wanted since day one after all. “I’m no idiot,” You agree, your hand trailing from his legs to clutch his black locks in your fingers. “I just can’t put together what I did to get myself into this situation.”

There’s an almost territorial grown from Dabi, and you've spun around. Your back is now pressed against the counter. You sigh as his warm hands slip underneath the sweatshirt. His fingers pausing at the waistband. “You wear this fucking sweatshirt. You talk to everyone but me all night long. You flip your hair in my direction as if I’m not already hard enough. And then you bend down right in front of me as if I hadn’t mused claiming you on that couch during the movie?”

You let out a moan, his words overwhelming you as he nips at your throat. Unable to keep yourself stagnant anymore, you clutch his face and bring his face to yours.

“Hey-- oh shit! Was I interrupting something?!” Spinners' face is blushing, and the two of you pull apart. Distance put between the two of you as you both stiffen.

“Nothing at all.” Dabi’s voice is too strained, and you watch as he storms off, his fists clenched at his side.

“It’s fine,” You say again with a laugh, Spinners face was almost beet red after all. “He was, what is it… checking up on me.”

“Are you… are you sure?” Spinner chokes his hand covering his eyes, and you walk over and press a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t worry, honey!” You laugh as you pull away. “Nothing was happening!”

You cackle at his uncomfortable status and leave with a skip in your step. Oh yeah, Dabi was just about to be yours.

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One

~ The Following Day ~

Dabi was trying not to stare at you.

You were laying on your stomach on the opposite end of his bed. Your ankles crossed as you read the book in your hands.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him, all he knew is that since yesterday, you had been cold. Then again, you never seemed to be in his room ever. You wore a white tank top that showed off your stomach. Paired with black shorts that seemed to be the tiniest bit too tight. It was, to put it simply, too alluring for him. The outfit made Dabi want nothing more than to burn your clothes off and drill into you.

His eyes concentrated on you as you rolled over onto your back. Your hair fanning out around you in a way that Dabi could now envision himself between your legs. Your face flushed, screaming his name. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep himself from thinking about it any further. There was no stopping his thoughts when you shifted your weight. Your back arching as you stretched. A low moan resonating from your mouth as Dabi wheezes slightly.

Your eyes flicker over to him, and a confused look falls over your face as you scrunch your eyebrows. “You okay?” You ask placing the book to the bed.

“Yeah,” Dabi says an easy lie, his hands running through his hair. “Are you?”

“Never been better!” You respond sitting up, and you fix your hair so that it lays on your shoulders. “I do have some questions though?”

Dabi quirks an eyebrow as he nods, letting you know that he’s listening.

“It’s about yesterday,” You breeze, adjusting your top, and his eyes flicker down to the swell of your breasts. Dabi feels his mouth running dry, but he nods his head. “I wanted to know how you felt…”

There’s a questionable tone to your voice, but your eyes glimmer. It's that same glimmer from the meeting. It reminds him of a sadistic smile. Even so, Dabi shifts again, “About… about what?”

“The movie, silly!” You say as you fall onto your hands, and Dabi rolls his eyes. Of fucking course.

“It was stupid.”

You tut softly as you shrug, “We’re all entitled to an opinion, even if your opinion is dumb and stupid.”

“Shut up, you’re being annoying.”

“I’m only curious!” You grin and take your book in your hand. “My hands are cold…” You murmur looking at the book. Your eyes snapped up to Dabi, and he felt frozen under your gaze.

“Can I stick them down your pants?”

Dabi licks his lips, a smirk coming over his face as he sits up completely now. “No,” Dabi says with a mocking look.

The look on your face incites something within Dabi. The look is territorial, it's sultry, and it stirs something within him.

“Your belt looks really tight on you…” You lament, and Dabi watches with widening eyes as you’re on all fours now. His eyes struggling to keep themselves from falling to your displayed cleavage. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip, “Let me loosen it for you?”

You’re crawling slowly towards Dabi, and he forgets how to speak as your fingers come to graze at his ankles. Dabi’s breathing staggers as you crawl onto his lap, your hips straddling his own. He feels as if he’s choking when you press your breasts flat against his chest, your hot breath hitting his ear. “Can I confess something?” You whisper into his ear.

Dabi exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he nods his head. You’re completely and utterly overwhelming him.

“In my head, we’re already having sex, so my opinion is we should just get it on already.” You confess as your lips press against his neck.

Dabi struggles to breathe as you pull away, your eyes locking on his. “Can I kiss you?” You ask your face leaning in titillating close. “I really want to kiss you.”

Dabi forgets how to say yes as he feels your lips ghost against his own, and his eyes fall closed. He’s waiting for you to press yourself against him completely.

“Aw, you guys are so cute!” A voice interrupts the two of you, and you screech falling off Dabi. “Ugly and disgusting, please never do it again!”

Twice peered his face into the doorway. A smile is heavy in his tone as he giggled at the two of you blushing and heaving like horny teenagers.

“I’m going to leave…” You whisper the energy between the two of you ruined.

“Y/n!” Dabi calls after you. He's angry with the fact that you were leaving and furious at Twice’s giggling expression.

“Sounds like you’re in trouble!” Twice laughs. “Clean yourself up!”

Dabi groans as he falls back onto his bed, why the fuck could he never do what he wanted with you?

Dabi was through. He was sexually-frustrated and now that he knew you wanted him? He was not going to let you slip away again.

He was going to fuck you by the end of the night.

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One

~ One Hour Later ~

You were in your room. Your hands rummaging through your drawers trying to find a better set of PJs. To be honest, you were sure that you were going to get laid tonight, but Dabi didn’t seem to be all that into it.

After last night, you were sure he would spring at the chance! He had, after all, pressed a raging boner against your back. So, you figured that he would take the opportunity to bed you right then and there. Even when Twice had walked in, you thought he would have fought you to keep you there. That he would clash with Twice for walking in. That he would pin you to the mattress and had his way with your regardless of the fact that you were being watched.

Sighing, you stripped off your clothes. They were especially picked out to stir some sort of reaction from him. It was disappointing that all you got was a blank stare as you slipped under his arm. You slipped on a pair of sweatpants, frowning. You had even worn your favorite pair of black lacy lingerie! But you guessed that there was time for this another day.

You went to grab your shirt that was on your bed, but the door slams open, and you shriek. Your arms moving to cover yourself.

You watch as Dabi closes the door behind him, locking it, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you--mmph?!”

His mouth is on yours the second you blink. The coolness of the staples in his chin press into your own chin and it sends chills down your spine. A gasp leaves your lips as you grip onto his sleeves, your head tilting to give a better angle for the two of you. His arms shift, and he grasps your ass tightly. You tear your lips away from his, panting heavily as he picks you up.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Dabi growls into your neck. His hair tickles your cheek, and his smoky aroma fills your senses. You laugh carelessly. You shiver at the feeling of his cold staples pressing into your warm skin, but still, you crave more.

“I’ve been teasing you for months now,” You confess as he tosses you on the bed, his eyes scouring your body. “You’re just an idiot who needed me on your lap to solve that out!”

His tongue runs a circle around your neck, and you shudder, “I think you need to shut up.” Dabi warns.

“Make me, pussy!” You counter and Dabi rolls his eyes. His hands seize your bra covered breasts in his hands, and he chuckles lightly at your whimper.

“I had to suffer twice within the past twenty-four hours...” Dabi drawls out his lips peppering scattered kisses along your chest. “I’m going to fuck you until you cum so fucking hard around my dick...”

The promise in his voice sends your heart pounding, and you tremble as you gaze into his vehement eyes.

“You know, typically when someone says ‘make me,’ you’re supposed to--”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Dabi snaps, his lips back on yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your eyes at the pressure.

He crawls on top of you, making you crawl backward, your head bumping the headboard of your bed. Dabi still on top of you as you pant. You sit up, your lips still dancing against his own, your hands locking into his thick hair. His lips are intoxicating. Pressing fully on yours. His hands gripping your waist and make you shudder from the strength of the hold.

Your thrust your hips upward, savoring in the fact that you were able to graze up against his pelvis.

“Stop fucking moving!” Dabi hisses against your lips, and you whine as his teeth bite down on your lower lip. You smile, your eyes watching at his lust-filled eyes. You wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips into his crotch.

You yelp has his hands shove your hips back onto the bed, his mouth pulled back into a snarl, “Don’t fucking test me, baby girl.” He nearly seethes.

“You’re not giving me a reason to not test you!” You groan. You shift restlessly, your arousal getting to you, and yet you were now unable to do anything about it. Dabi’s scarred hand grabs your bra and he chuckles.

“Such a pretty bra,” He utters as your chest heaves. Your mind driving yourself crazy as you longed for him to do something, anything. “Were you wearing it all this time?”

“Nah,” You gasp as his fingers skillfully trace over your hardened nipples. “It was for Sako, I was waiting for him to reply to my ‘are you uP--’!!!” Your banter is harshly stopped as he burns the bra to a crisp. The snarl on his face turning sadistic as you look at him.

Before you could open your mouth to tell him off, the heated cavern of his mouth latches onto your left breast. His tongue lashing out to swipe out your nipples. “Yes,” You crave his touch, even more, and you tug on his on hair. “That feels--aah oh fuck--that feels so good!”

You arch into his mouth, wordless gasps pouring out of your mouth as you clench his thick hair in your hands. His left-hand pinch your free nipple, and you thrash against his hold, his name cried from your lips. His mouth and fingers were unrelenting. His teeth biting down harshly on your perked nipple, and his fingers rolled your other nipple. Pulling on it on occasion until your hips began to buck, desperate for some sort of friction.

His mouth leaves your breast with a fulfilling pop, and you tremble against the mattress. You pant while looking down at your flushed stained breasts. They shone with his saliva, and the cool air intensifying the sensitivity. “You’re pretty when you’re laying underneath me,” Dabi grins, a gleam in his eyes. You gaze at him with heavy-lidded eyes and he looks down, a smirk on his face. “But, you’re terrible at following directions,” Dabi states, victory lacing his eyes as you moan. You’ve never felt needier, and you were hoping he would just get to the point where he was railing you into the mattress.

“Fuck me, please!” You cry as you push his hands down to your needy sex, and you shiver against his fingers.

“I think I’m going to have to teach you a lesson on following rules.” Dabi teases as he slides his hands to your waistband.

“Don’t you dare fucking burn my pants and panties!” You warn as your head tilts backward, Dabi’s mouth pressing open mouth kisses down your neck. The coolness of the staples on his face almost steaming against your scorched skin.

“I’ll get you a new pair.” Dabi snickers as your remaining materials get burned off.

Your eyes widen, words unable to form as he pulls his shirt off his head. The smell of the burning material intermingling with the scent of your arousal, and his own aroma. You sit up and grab his belt, unbuckling it as his thrown shirt reaches the floor. You ignore his movements to get you to lean down as you manage to get his pants down to his knees.

"What are you doing?" Dabi pants. You ignore him as you lick your lips, staring at his awaiting cock.

You grasp his hard dick, and you smirk at his hiss. His dick was large, three large veins bulging out from the side, and your hand almost wrapped around it. You push him onto his ass and lean down, your tongue flicking out to touch the tip of his head. His smell is musty, the pre-cum leaking out of his tip salty and he moans. Your mouth envelopes around him, and he tugs your hair roughly. Your hands run up and down the parts of his cock that weren’t in your mouth. You stared at him, smiling as you slowly took him in until your lips touched the base of his dick. Your head is roughly pulled off, and you don’t know how, but your back's pressed back into the mattress. “I don’t fucking want your damn mouth around me right now,” Dabi grunts, the tip of his cock teasing your own entrance.

“Well fuck me, before I fuck myself and kick you out!” You cry out, your hands grasping onto his shoulders as he grinds further into you.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Dabi admits, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you dig your nails into his hips. “God, you’re fucking wet…”

“Fuck me, already!” You sob and with a satisfied snort, he picks up your leg and rams into you at full length.

Your head throws back, and a soundless scream emerges your lip. Gasps escape your mouth as you clench around his cock. Your breathing unleveled as you adjusted to his size. His damn girth was too much for you to handle, but his hips snapped back and slammed back into you.

“Dabi!” You shriek as your nails scrape down his back. His face buried into your neck, and the hot puffs of air send goosebumps down your body. You’re heaving as his speed increases steadily, your body not entirely adjusted. Despite the pain, you start rolling your hips against his. His hips are merciless, slamming into you over and over. The pained look on your face quickly dissolving into pleasure.

Sharp pants escape his mouth as he places his hands onto the pillow by your head. Your legs wrapping against his hips as you meet his with every thrust. Your arousal intensifies as a burning pressure erupts within you. Your head falling backward as you lacked the energy to keep your head up. “Look at me,” Dabi growls. The pleasure burns through your veins. It almost prohibits you from staring into his cerulean eyes. Your core felt as if it was on fire.

Dabi pushes himself off the mattress, grasping your hips as he continues to slam into you. The new angle is overwhelming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dig into his back. Tingles reaching your toes, and you find yourself curling your toes, as he slams into your g-spot.

“DABI!” You screech as he grunts, he angles himself into you in the same way. Ragged groans tumble out of your voice as he slams into your over, and over, and over. The tip of his dick never once missing. “Harder, please! Fuck!”

You choke as his left-hand clutches your throat, and you arch your back off the mattress again. “Fucking shit, you’re so damn tight.” Dabi gasps as his hips circle and slams back into you. The pressure in your core was only increasing as you felt his cock spasm from within you, and you cry. Your neck pushing up against his hand. “Do you need to come?” He asks, a desperate tone to his voice.

The build-up of the pressure was sending you over the edge, and you shoved his hand off your neck as you sit up. Your arms wrap around his neck, your lips pressing tightly against his own as you come hard around his dick. Ragged moans pour out of your mouth as his hips chase your orgasm, approaching his own.

Your pussy continues to spasm around his thrusting cock, your eyes clenched. Dabi’s mouth presses open kisses against you, and he curses your name. You moan as you feel his seed expelling within you, and he gasps. His hips stutter as they try to finish his final movements. Dabi collapses with you in his arms, the two of you panting for air as you lay there. Sweating, panting and kissing each other softly.

You pull away brushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. “I seriously underestimated you,” You chuckle.

“I wanted to do that since day one…” Dabi sighs as he presses a kiss to your mouth.

“You didn’t have it in you!”

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“And yet,” You shift in his arms burying your nose into the crook of his neck. “You still fucked me.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars LXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m soft and EXCITED cause we’re starting book four next week and you guys have no idea what’s coming -Danny

Words: 1,798

Warnings: None! Tooth rooting fluff

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Book IV

Chapter Twenty-Four: Good Omens.

Dumbledore left when Harry walked out of Lupin's former office, he stopped when he noticed Mel was outside.

"Oh," He said, "I thought you'd be with Ron and Hermione."

"I was talking to Dumbledore," She replied simply. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," He moved to where she was standing. "I talked to him too, when you left the office..."

"You did?"

"I was... I told him that I felt like our mission hadn't made a difference," He explained. "He told me I was wrong... sort of."

"Sort of?" She smiled.

Then Harry told her everything. Including the prophecy Trelawney had told him on their last day of exams. She had to admit, it sounded terrifying, but their teacher was known to be a bit dramatic. Still, the part about the dark lord rising... she didn't like that bit at all.

"What he said about the people that loves us never leaving..." Harry frowned, trying to put his thoughts in order. "They help us when we're in trouble, one way or another... I'm lucky to have you, Ron, and Hermione. Emily, and Sirius... they care and they'd help me if I needed them to... Not everyone is that lucky, though."

"I suppose so," Mel tilted her head, patiently waiting for the rest of whatever he was trying to say.

"Erick," It was the second time he'd mentioned the boy's name and it still sounded completely strange coming out of his mouth. "What you said about his family... he doesn't have many people helping him. I guess... I understand why'd he go out of his way to talk to you... You're brilliant and all..."

"Thanks?"

"What I mean," Harry pressed on, having a hard time expressing himself. "What I want to say is, I think you're a good friend and you're right– I shouldn't judge people without knowing their story first, that's what made me think Sirius was trying to kill me... I'm sorry I reacted that way, my interactions with the Slytherins haven't been nice, but I get that not everyone has to be the same. I trust you–"

Harry's speech was interrupted when Mel threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly (no kisses this time, though- She wasn't going to do the same mistake twice) and apologized profusely.

"I know... Mellow, I can't breathe!" He complained.

"Sorry!" She stepped back. "Sorry..."

"So... I'm your hero now, right?"

"What?" She frowned.

"You said that whoever made the dementors disappear the other night was your new hero, turns out it was me," He smirked.

"I was also there!" She exclaimed. "That was my Patronus too!"

"Well, you can't be your hero!"

"Says who?"

"It doesn't make sense!"

"I say it does. I'm my own hero," She teased. "For all I know, I saved your life this time."

"I've saved your life before," He pouted.

"Now you're just being pretentious..."

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies," Hermione commented once they were settled on the train's compartment.

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!"

"I know, but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again. Besides, I asked Erick and he told me he'd be happy to tell me all about what he studies in class."

"I still can't believe you're friends with him," Ron rolled his eyes. "And I still can't believe you didn't tell us about the time-turner. We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione. "And you know how important it is to keep secrets when you're not the only one involved..."

She looked at Mel, who was looking at Harry, who was looking out the window with a sad expression.

"Oh, cheer up!" said Hermione.

"I'm okay," Harry jumped lightly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too– Mel, Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year..."

"Or ask us more about muggle life, like Erick does," Mel teased.

Ron ignored them.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

Harry did cheer up at that.

"Yeah, I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come... especially after what I did to Aunt Marge..."

"I'd love to see the World Cup!" Mel said excitedly. "I can picture it already, all the wizards from around the world..."

They wasted a whole hour playing and talking when Hermione pointed out to the landscape.

"Harry– What's that thing outside your window?"

It was the smallest owl Mel had ever seen. It dropped a letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming excitedly around the place. Hedwig clicked her beak while Grey and Crookshanks sat up, following the owl with their eyes. Ron caught the owl safely and threw a disapproving look their way.

"It's from Sirius!" Harry said happily.

"What? Read it aloud!"

'Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle.

I don't know whether they're used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.

I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt —

"Ha! See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?– Ouch!"

'Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.

I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you and Mel that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me.

I'll write again soon. Sirius

P.S. Mel, if Remus tells your mother what happened during the school year, will you please send her my regards? I miss her, I'm hoping I'll find a way to communicate with her soon.'

"I absolutely will," Mel smiled widely. "What else did he send, Glasses?"

Harry looked inside the envelope. She saw his eyes grow in surprise and then he was grinning, handing the small piece of parchment to her.

'I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.'

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry.  "Hang on, there's a second P.S."

'I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.'

Ron's eyes widened.

"Keep him?" he repeated.

He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do'you reckon?" Ron asked. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me," said Ron. "He's mine."

"You know," Mel said to the boy once they arrived at the station. "I'm really sorry you can't live with Sirius, but there's a good side!"

"Which is?"

"I'll still be your neighbor!"

"I thought you'd be happy," He teased. "Finally getting rid of me, a well-deserved break."

"I was happy because Sirius cares about you and you would've had a good life... besides, I get to see you in school, which is almost the whole year."

"Well," Harry put an arm around her shoulders. "We'll still have to stand each other for the years to come."

"I think I can live with that," She chuckled.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after they parted.

Mel saw her mother standing a few feet away from the Dursleys and ran to meet her.

"Hello!" She said cheerfully. "Do you think we can stop by that place we like to get lunch? I'm– You know everything, don't you?"

Emily was looking down at her with such a severity that Mel prepared herself for the impact.

"Time-turners, dementors and sneaking out of the castle after curfew," Emily whispered angrily. "Helping a convict escape, attacking a Professor–"

"Snape had it coming!"

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" Emily hissed. "I swear, every time I get a letter I feel like I'm about to hear you murdered a teacher!"

"You're exagerating–"

"Watch me overreact all the way to our house, young lady!" She retorted.

"Very well," Mel sighed. "Can I tell you two things first?"

"What things?"

"I spent a whole year having a normal period -dreadful and gross, not reccomended– but that means I can take the potion now! Second, Padfoot says hi."

Emily's mouth opened and closed, her eyes never leaving her daughter's face.

"How do you–"

"Didn't they tell you the whole story?" Mel asked. "I'll have to do it myself, then..."

"What's that?" They heard Mr. Dursley spat at Harry while they walked past. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another —"

"It's not," Harry smiled brightly. "It's a letter from my godfather."

"Godfather? You haven't got a godfather!"

"Yes, I have– He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though. Keep up with my news... check if I'm happy..."

Mel and Emily shared a look and left quickly, holding back their laughter until they were safe inside their car. There, both of them laughed until their stomachs hurt.

"You know," Her mother said breathlessly. "Prongs would've been so proud of his son..."

"I know," Mel smiled, looking out her window and watching Harry's gleeful face as he walked out of the station with a terrified uncle following close. "We all are..."

Next Part —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797​ @siriuslysirius1107​ @stardusthigh​ @mikariell95​ @omiwashere​ @steve-thotgers​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @tomshollandz​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @reverse-hxlland​ @bloodorangemoonlight​

[chaseestein-archive-blog]

the six stages of falling in love

relationship: jim kirk x reader word count: 2.3k warnings: none tagging: @lancestellations @lesbianrosalie @alexsunmners @pizzaplanethq @enterprisewriting a/n: this is based off of this poem

❤️commission me❤️

read on ao3

i.

The first time he sees you, you’re talking with a few cadets, and he watches diligently. Jim smiles at the way you wave your hand wildly, touching your friends on their shoulders and laugh heartily. (He wishes he could hear it.) With a drink in your hand and a smile playing at your lips which quickly vanishes when you raise the glass to your lips and look down at your drink in disappointment. He doesn’t listen to Bones, he can’t as he watches you move towards the bar from his spot at a high table. Your head is high and weaving through the crowd of drunken cadets that celebrate the beginning of the short two-week break for the holidays and the end of the midterms for most.

You glance to him, locking eyes for just a moment, seeing the flash of blue and blond of the man staring at you and he seems familiar, but all cadets in passing look the same to you in the matching red uniforms. So, you move on, not willing to waste your time staring at a man when you could be doing more with your time, like getting blackout drunk and regretting it in the morning.

“Jim, you look like a fish outta water.”

He turns to face Leonard, lips pressed into an unamused smile. “You can be a real ass, you know that?”

“Says the man who’s been ignoring me because of some pretty thing across the bar caught your eye.”

Jim clicks his tongue, “What makes you think,” he cranes his neck, looking for you in the crowd, “I was staring at someone.”

When he finds that you’ve disappeared amongst the drunk cadets, he feels himself deflate, wanting to get another glance at you, if only for just another moment. But you’re gone, lost in the sea of red and rowdy dancers.

Leonard shrugs and brings the shot glass to his lips and throws his head back. The sound of the glass hitting the wood table brings Jim back with a startle, “I know your tells, Jim, you’re an open book.”

“I think,” he says, picking up the glass and finishes of his whiskey, feeling the slight burn that it leaves in its wake down the back of his throat, something that he desperately needs to ground him back down. “It’s time I go.”

“It’s only ten.”

“And I’m tired, Bones.”

It’s not quite a lie, because he is tired, he truly is. It’s been a very long year, it’s the first time he’s felt in his place, somewhere he is being challenged and his potential being realized by others instead of being brushed off.

When he goes to lie down that night, fingers interlocked and behind his head, all he can see is you, the moment when you held eye contact with him for just that split second, his mind running wild with the memory.

ii.

He doesn’t know why you’re so hesitant in your affections toward him, it’s not like there’s rules. Well, there are, but that doesn’t mean that he cares- he’s never really cared for rules, that’s just part of who he is. This is the U.S.S Enterprise, the best ship in all of Starfleet, and you don’t earn that title by following the rules.

You still scan the room, looking for anything, any sign of another person, even as he says that it’s okay, that the coast is clear. Nobody’s watching and nobody really cares. There’s more scandalous affairs aboard the Enterprise than you and him. But you follow the rules- most of them anyway, the important ones- and it’s hard for you to break one of the upmost rules- one that has been outdated and nearly tossed out the window of most starships. You’re still so careful even when there is no need for it.

Jim doesn’t mind.

He takes them as they come, welcoming each hesitant kiss and touch with a smile and open arms.

Try as hard as he may to convince you that everything is okay, you still need to look, waiting to be caught by someone. Some days, he’s sure that it’s not the crew that you’re looking for when he goes to hold your hand.

“I think I love you,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours, doing your usual glance around the room. The tension in your shoulders slowly melt away when you’re sure that it’s only you and him in the small recreation room, “You don’t have to say it back but, I think that I really love you.”

He watches you, drinks you in like you’re his entire world- you might as well be- and the smile that has left him in a state of euphoria so many times, makes its way to your lips, and dear God, he thinks that smile could light up the entire galaxy.

Jim has spent his fair share of hours, lying in bed and trying to really get a grip on what he feels for you. It’s something that he’s never experienced. Sure, he’s had girlfriends when he was younger, but he’s never felt this towards any of those girls. This is new. A new kind of love. He’s felt platonic and familial love but never romantic love. So maybe this could be the real thing.

He hopes it is. He wants it to be.

iii.

He shifts you in his arms and when he looks down at you and that’s when he realizes how small you look against him. He has hardly ever seen you so shaken, so broken and defeated while you grasp at his shirt, the fabric soaked with tears. Jim tries to comfort you, holding you as tightly as he can, murmuring sweet nothings and reassurances that everything is okay, that everything is fine.

Jim has admired you for so long for carrying this weight on your shoulders, always pushing him to open up to you and talk about everything, but you never doing the same when he tried to. If he was even lucky enough to get you talk to him, it was never as deep as he’d go with you. There was always something holding you back and he wonders if someone did this to you, to make you feel like you couldn’t talk about what you felt or if it was just you.

But that doesn’t matter right now, all he can focus on is you in his arms, not what someone might have done to you.

You still won’t tell him what has you so upset, or maybe you just can’t. He couldn’t get a word out of you and there’s no doubt that you would even be able to so in this state. He waits patiently, trying his hardest to get you to calm down. His fingers dig into the top of your arms, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Starlight, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He hopes that you will take those words to heart, but it’s a longshot, he knows that. You’re crying, and with how upset you are, it won’t be solved with a few words. Jim does his best, even if it might not be enough.

“But you won’t always. You died, you asshole! I saw you with- with a sheet over your head.”

He taps his fingers against your shoulder and looks down at you. He can’t quite look you in the eyes, maybe it’s the guilt. He’s the one that caused this, the red eyes and tear stained cheeks, labored breathing and shaking chest.

“Hey, baby,” he coos, pushing back the feeling of guilt, and brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks and smiles at you, trying to reassure you, “I’m not gonna leave. I’ll always be here. I promise you that.”

You sit up and press your forehead to his, sniffling and trying to calm your breathing. Your hands cover his, hands shaking a bit over his own, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, James.”

iv.

There’s a two-week period for the crew to finally rest after a little over a year in space. Two weeks to rest while the ship is docked in Yorktown for minor repairs and restocking of supplies. It isn’t long in the big picture but for now, it will do. It will do just plenty.

Two weeks at peace, no interruptions, no meeting, no life or death situations, just rest. He usually goes stir-crazy when docked for more than a few days, the thrill of being out in space and discovering new planets calling to him, but being confined with you in the tiny, assigned living space keeps him still and comfortable.

Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine this; a relationship, steady and full of understanding and support. You knew of his ambition and his yearning to lead this life. “Adventure flows through you, James Tiberius Kirk, it’s written in your DNA,” you’d said to him, your head on his chest and fingers dancing along his skin, each touch igniting flames beneath his skin, the heat following the pads of your fingers, “I’ll be with you, no matter what.”

You trace the veins on his arms, from the inside of his elbow down to the tips of his fingers and back up. And when he watched you, something settled in the pit of his stomach that made him smile. Contentedness is something of a luxury in his job and it’s an odd feeling to experience.

He traces over the path that you had painted just the other night on his arm, wishing nothing more than for you to have stayed this last night with him instead of in your own room. You claimed you wouldn’t get any sleep if you stayed with him, giggling like mad when he wrapped his arms around your waist, peppering soft kisses along the column of your neck and up to your temple.

And you were right, pulling away with a smile and grabbing hold of his hands, he would have kept you up all night.

His memories of you is more than enough for him. He’ll see you in the morning; he can wait just a little longer.

v.

There’s a lull in between shifts, where it seems like there’s no one on the Enterprise at all. People are either in their cabins, exhausted from their shifts, or they’re already at their stations. That lull, it doesn’t last long, but you revel in that small amount of time, that quick five minutes alone with him that isn’t in an examination room or his quarters.

You’ve become bolder, having been made more comfortable with the Enterprise and its crew, giving up that little piece of control. He likes to think that he’s a good influence, Leonard thinks otherwise. Especially when he caught the two of you in a very compromising position in an empty exam room. He said he wouldn’t ever be able to unsee it and hit the contraband whiskey hidden in one of his desk drawers.

He feels like he’s on another plane of existence with your hands on his hips and lips attached to his neck. Your hands grasp at his shirt, pushing it up and up and hands tucked beneath the fabric, trailing up and down his sides, scratching down lightly with your nails and making him shiver. You love that, he can tell. He can tell by the way you smile against his neck, how your breathing picks up a little and that you kiss harder, sucking and biting and he’s sure he’s never going to heaven with what goes through his mind and how desperately he fucking wants you.

He’d never expect this from you.

And fuck, when you pull away with a smirk, hands still caught beneath his shirt, right over his chest and push him back. He stumbles in surprise and his knees hit the back of the examination table.

You push him down on the bed with a finger to his sternum. The paper on the bed crackles beneath him when he lies down and he stares at you, eyes wide and expectant when you manage to pull yourself onto his lap.

He’s always been a bit dangerous, hell, he loved that but you, you’re something else right now. You’ll only pull yourself back in when this is done.

His lips burn when you drag your own over his and glide up across his cheek to the shell of his ear. His hands skim over your back and down to your thighs, trying to push the blue dress over your ass.

Over the whispers that you say in his ears, promising what exactly you will do to him and how you’ll do it, neither of you hear the whoosh of the door opening.

“God fucking dammit, Jim!”

vi.

He doesn’t think there is any better feeling than this, nothing could probably ever compare. Not the moment he was made captain, but that could be a very close second.

This has to be a sin because it sure as hell feels like one. Your lips move slowly over his neck, nipping at the skin there, all thoughts and cares thrown out the window as soon as you had pushed him down on the bed, hovering over him, bodies just barely touching.

Cheeks red and uneven breathing, a warmth that consumes him, it’s all welcomed if the cause of it is how you kiss his neck.

Every move is calculated. He knows it in the way you smirk against him, each touch of your hands on him moving confidently and gentle scrapes of your nails across his skin.

He brushes your hair back when you pull back to catch your breath. Jim’s never seen such a beautiful sight in his life. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world and he tries his hardest to burn this into his memory. Your swollen lips and how your hair brushes against your shoulders, how the low lighting of the room reflects of your skin, making you glow, that a halo almost appears around your figure and he’s sure that you must be some kind of angel.

“I love you, Starlight.”

“I know you do.”

[fmdxkit-blog]

setting: august 2006 to present day. warnings: death. word count: 3321 (// icb).

white with hints of grey and purple was all kit saw in his reflection. not too long ago—124 days, to be exact (but who was really counting?), he saw peaches, browns, flecks of pink, amber, blue, yellow. so many colors; he took them for granted, believing they were eternal. now, flooded in the lifeless hue of white (which wasn’t even a bonafide color, as his friend told him), kit felt dead. there was no life around him. the plants sat on the window sill were fake, devoid of mother nature’s gift (or curse).

he pulled a maroon beanie over his head, adding a splash of color to the canvas shade of his skin. the striking contrast brought the magentas out on his cheeks, but kit still looked as sickly as ever. bracing a knit cardigan around his slim, fragile body—his teacher gifted him (out of pity, no less), kit waddled towards the open door of his private hospital room. he asked a nurse to keep it open because he was so tired of hearing nothing but the voices tick away in his head, gnawing, scratching. kit would go mad if the silence persisted.

he stalked the corridor, rolling the IV pole next to him. it was the wilson to his—whatever tom hanks’ name was in that movie he was stranded on an island and his only friend for seven years was a bloodied volleyball. the IV pole was his only friend at the hospital.

kit strolled to where the other children with cancer usually gathered as the nurses tried to serenade them by singing kumbaya, as if that made the cancer nonexistent. he scoffed upon entering the room, immediately regretting the idea of having some sort of human interaction that day. before he could vanish back into the white surroundings, he caught a nurse’s periphery, and she waved him to join. he scanned the room. it was less dead than the rest of the ward. colourful, connected mats shielded the floor as toys laid scattered about: blocks, rag dolls, toy trucks, action figures. the whole shebang. the children were in a circle, surrounding a nurse with a ukulele.

begrudgingly, kit entered the playroom but lingered behind everyone else. he didn’t like drawing too much attention, nor was he in the mood to be singing songs, pretending he wasn’t confined out of his will because of an ailment 21st doctors still couldn’t solve. at eleven, he was already so much of a cynic. most eleven year olds were waiting for hogwarts letters (as if). he was losing his childhood day by day at an alarming rate.

“hey, i’ve never seen you around here.” soft but distinct. the voice crawled into kit’s personal bubble but he turned his head but saw no one. he then glanced down, blinking at a girl in a wheelchair.

“me too,” kit contested, eyeing the stranger. she wore the drab hospital gown and cliched beanie over her head too. it wouldn’t take a brain genius to realize she was a cancer patient just like him. “leukemia?”

“leukemia.” the girl nodded, lips twisted to a subtle pucker. “i’m elena, by the way. nice seeing someone else my age here.”

“kit.”

“kit? like kit-kat but without the kat? is your sister named kat?” elena giggled, tossing jokes as if they were funny. well, they were but kit wasn’t easily humored when his mood was at an all-time low.

“i don’t have a sister. i have a brother and his name is henry,” he answered diplomatically.

“you do know your parents named you after chocolate bars, right?”

kit scowled, annoyed by the wisecracks. “who asked you? why are you even talking to me? we’re not friends.”

elena fiddled with the hem of her blue hospital the gown. “how else do we make friends if we don’t talk, kit-kat?”

“first of all, i don’t want any friends.” kit resented anything or anyone who even vaguely reminded him he had cancer and was practically perched on death’s doormat. befriending a fellow patient was a definite no. “second of all, don’t call me that.” irritated, kit clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and vacated the room. he was done with the crappy music and interrogation—none of which he signed up for, nor appreciated.

“hey, wait!” elena called behind him.

kit tossed her a glare over his shoulders, grimacing as her frail arms spun the large wheels of the wheelchair. “why are you following me? don’t follow me.” when he reached his room, he planned to slam the door in her face but a tire prevented him from doing so.

“i’m sorry i called you kit-kat. i won’t call you that again. i’ve been here for months and i haven’t spoken to anyone my age. i’m tired of listening to toddlers rave about dora the explorer. and frankly, i can’t look at them because i feel so bad. babies shouldn’t have to go through this,” elena emphasized gravelly, voice on the verge of breaking after an emotional and sincere speech.

kit was taken back by the burst of honesty and also by how much he related to her words. they struck a chord, so he opened the door.

“no one deserves to go through this,” he corrected passionately yet grimly, his jaw clenched so tight as his adam’s apple bobbed.

elena mustered a small, relieved smile. “let’s start again.” courteously, she extended a hand. “i’m elena. nice meeting you!”

kit stared at the pink palm, contemplating on accepting the offer of friendship. he had plenty of friends outside of the hospital but no one on the inside. he was so exhausted of pitied looks, maybe having someone on the same boat wouldn’t be a constant remainder of his situation but a person to relate to. to talk to. to understand him and his fears.

he shook elena’s hand, watching her smile overwhelm her freckled face. kit was stunned by the radiance; he was almost persuaded to mirror the expression but slickly caught himself and dropped the handshake a fraction later.

“and i’m kit. nice meeting you too.”

—

propped up by a number of heavy duty pillows, kit stared lifelessly at the television screen. old reruns of sitcoms from before he was born played: a group of elderly women spewing comedic jokes, a nanny with a nasally accent provided laughter, and a prince from bel-air but kit doesn’t bat an eyelash. his expression is forlorn, eyes an empty abyss of dull, mousy brown.

there was a knock on his door but he forewent a reply, wanting to have some alone time. then there was another until the knocking was constant, ringing in his ears. he snapped his head at the door as soon as it opened without a verbal permission of sorts.

“get out,” he hissed, voice eerily too deep for a boy of eleven.

elena stepped in, no longer bound to a clunky wheelchair. she padded to his bed, ignoring his wishes. “i heard you screaming earlier-“

the pink, swollen skin around kit’s eyes tightened, his jaw clenching as venom laced his words. “i was not screaming.”

“crying, then.” elena sat herself on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her thighs as she studied his appearance. there was no pity. just curiosity. “you’re not going home anytime soon, huh?”

kit glanced away, hard expression set on the cracks through the blinds. he saw nothing but pretend to be invested in anything else but the truth. the silence answered her questions and elena nodded knowingly.

“i’m glad you’re here.”

“excuse me?” kit grimaced, half disgusted by her confession and half confused. he returned his glare onto her and she refused to meet it, sight set on the floor.

“i’m glad you’re here. we can keep each other company. if you stay at home, who will be there for you? your parents have work and henry has sch-“<\small>

“your logic makes no sense,” he scowled. how could anyone wish for him to stay in some place he detested with every cell of his existence.

“you’ll get better, kit,” elena said wisely, as if she was certain his fate was guaranteed or written in the morning paper she fancied reading. “i know it. i can feel it. just hold on a little longer. the hospital isn’t so bad. the food, though.” in synchronization, they glanced at the tray of food settled on a bedside table. “that can be better.”

it didn’t know whether to groan or laugh but the most natural of chuckles spilled from his lips when he allowed himself the pleasure of loosening up. he was never so high-strung but the ambience of the hospital changed him. chemotherapy and radiation left him wilted, draining his last bits of energy until he was a blackhole, destructive to only himself. a rose, who was once brilliant red, now decaying with no color to its merit.

“finally,” elena grinned, her freckled cheeks pushing her eyes into merry crescents. “a smile. you look better when you smile.”

“you’ve been reading too many romance novels. you need to lay off.” flushed cheeks and heat prickling the tips of his ears, kit cleared his throat to act unaffected. aloof, even.

“what can i say, they take me away.” shutting her eyes, the sunlight peering through the gaps in the blinds settled on her face. the brown, orange, tan specks on her complexion luminescent, matching the radiance of her fiery, orange hair.

kit felt a strange, foreign beat in his chest. he clasped a hand over his heart, worried of yet another side affect of his treatment: he was exhausted of the migraines, the nausea, the vomiting. all he wanted was peace. but the sensation was different. it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it felt oddly calming while encouraging all at once.

he gulped, flickering his gaze anywhere but not on the trigger of the new anomaly.

—

“woah!” elena gaped in awe at the music video kit showed her on the computer once it came to an inevitable and bitter finish. her eyes were glazed, starry and astonished.

“what did i tell you?” kit stood proudly, hands perched on his hips. “cool, right?”

“very cool,” chuckled elena, scenes of the video zipping through her head in rewind. “i can see you doing that.”

bashfully, kit ran his hands over his beanie, adjusting the elastic hem around his pinkish ears. “you think? i don’t know. i can’t really sing, dance or rap.”

“but you can learn!” elena positively quipped, nothing short of belief etched on her façade. “some people are born great and some are taught greatness.”

“did you get that from a book…” kit laughed, resting his weight on the foot of elena’s bed as he pulled the laptop closer, typing in something else into the search engine.

“nope! i thought of it all on my own.”

“três cheesy,” kit pursed his lips, tossing her a teasing glance, eyebrow arched and disappearing under his favorite maroon beanie.

“oh, you like my cheesy butt!” elena giggled, unknowingly hitting the nail squarely on the head.

if kit wasn’t used to the cheeky lingo, the smile on his face would have faltered and the truth would have been revealed. he couldn’t have that. he watched many shows and learned feelings between good friends ultimately ruined the friendship. no, he would do no such thing.

—

“elena!” kit shouted as soon as he raced into elena’s hospital room. she laid in her bed, head in the clouds per usual. knowing her like the back of his hand (better, even), kit could tell she was restlessly daydreaming by the foggy disposition in her hazel eyes.

“hey, kit,” she greeted less enthusiastically, tired from treatment. warmth still graced her features, pursing her lips to a sincere smile. “you came just in time.”

no longer bound to the four walls of the hospital, kit would drop by weekly to pay elena a visit. he never missed a date; he was always on time. never tardy.

“i have great news to tell you!” the grin on kit’s face was so broad, so spectacular that it threatened the sun’s intensity and power. happiness was alive and well, setting fireworks in every nook and cranny of his body. “i’m cancer free!”

elena couldn’t hide the joy on her face. the tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision. her sobs were incoherent but kit understood every word.

“i’m so happy for you! i knew you could do it! didn’t i tell you you’ll get better?”

kit found a box of tissues stowed away in elena’s hospital bag. he ripped open the seal and plucked a few sheets for her to dry her damp face. the sincerity of her reaction touched kit immensely. he felt like bursting into tears too but refrained from doing so.

“yeah, you did.” he grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers. “and you’ll get better too. and when you do, we’ll go to korea and you can cheer me on at my audition!”

elena grinned flawlessly, flooding kit with an emotion he didn’t know existed prior. “i’ll be your first and biggest fan!”

—

“are you sure we won’t get in trouble for this?” the squeaky wheel of the wheelchair and the pads of kit’s steps are the only sounds they hear in the midst of their privy conversation.

“certain,” kit fibbed. a little while lie never hurt anyone. partially, it was honest. she wouldn’t get in trouble; but he would. 

he pushed the rooftop door open with his back, wheeling elena out delicately. the wind blew through them. that winter night was courteous. not too cold. kit’s winter coat around elena kept her cozy.

“wow,” elena marvelled, eyes everywhere on the starry sky. the white, silver specks glistened. “the view is better up here.”

“beats that crappy room you’re in,” kit retorted, rolling her close enough to the edge to see the roads and the few cars driving down them, speeding wistfully into the darkness.

“it’s not crappy,” defended elena. she loved that room of hers. practically, it was home. she spent more time there than anywhere else. kit hated that.

“nothing beats the outside.” he extended his arms, gesturing at what the world outside a pokey hospital had to offer. “the fresh air. the stars.” kit inhaled deeply, soaking in the chilly breeze before coughing, throat and mouth torrid.

elena shifted her gaze from the twinkling canvas to him, lips forming the fondest of smiles. “you never liked the hospital.”

“why would i?” kit let his arms fall, swinging them by his side. “it’s shit.”

“saved your life, though.”

“and took away many others.”

shaking her head in defeat, elena knew there was no reasoning with kit. he was too stubborn. an argument wasn’t worth it.

“thank you bringing me here. it’s beautiful.” elena craned her neck, admiring the natural wonders of the universe before being enclosed away again.

kit nodded, admiration clear in his crystal eyes. “anything for you.”

—

kit tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, mindlessly waiting for the rings to cease and a familiar voice to pick up. the only voice kit wanted to hear after a gruelling day of exam reviews. he spun a basketball in his hand, pacing the empty space in front of his bed to pass the time. he was growing progressively restless, hating to stand idle with nothing to do but breathe and exist. he was tired of that mundane lifestyle.

“hey, kit-kat,” echoed elena’s groggy voice.

“hey, were you sleeping? i’m sorry i woke you.” looking at the time on his digital alarm clock, kit mentally shot himself for calling right after her chemotherapy treatment. he should have been more aware of how fatigued elena would be. “i can call back if-“

elena’s heartwarming giggles stopped him, as well as paused his pulse for the most fleeting of moments. time stood still and kit could almost see her, despite the roads between them. he envisioned her lying in her bed, facing the sun that poured through her window (she never liked having her curtains shut). the golden yellow rays dancing across her peaceful face; freckles intricate and hazel eyes shining.

“no, i’m good,” she said but yawned at the end. “so, how was your official last day of school before exams?”

“hated it,” kit sang, tossing the basketball up into the air, then caught it for a repeat. “but once i finish my exam tomorrow, i’ll come visit!”

the first year of high school took a toll on kit’s routine vsitations. club activities prevented him from seeing elena on the usual day—friday, so he went whenever available. the dates were scattered and dwindled into monthly subscriptions. kit hated it. he was going to korea soon and despite planning for elena to come along, the universe had other things in mind for her. ill-fated things.

“i’ll ask for extra jello for you,” elena added, knowing how much kit loved the snack since their lunch-dates in the past.

kit snorted, dropping his weight and bouncing on his mattress, discarding the basketball to properly hold his phone with a secure grip. “i have something in mind for my audition. i want you to hear it before anyone else.”

“ooo!” elena squealed, energy returning to her voice. she’s grown to sound so calm but it was obvious it wasn’t intentional. she was tired. “i can’t wait for this VIP showing of your audition. i feel so lucky!”

“you are lucky,” kit confirmed, foolishly smiling from ear to ear as he thought, i’m luckier. he never told elena how he felt but he had an inkling she knew and returned them. for now, that was enough for him. he could wait for her. she had more important matters to prioritize: getting better, beating cancer. not a walk in the park but kit was there and would always be there for her, supporting her, cheering her on. the day she would be cancer free would be the happiest day of his life, greatly surpassing the day he found out he was miraculously healed.

the time caught his peripheral and kit knew his mum would be calling him down to dinner soon—too soon. “hey, elena, i gotta go-“

“tell your mum, dad and henry i said hi, okay?” 

there was never dread in elena’s voice. only kindness and understanding. she matured wonderfully. well beyond her years.

“i will. i’ll see you tomorrow. goodnight,” kit said quietly, hope wedged between each word, glueing the sentence together.

when all were fast asleep, dreaming lucidly of endless possibilities, kit received a text. the notification fell on deaf ears for kit was lost in the slumber. he saw elena and approached her but she only receded, waving sorrowfully.

kit woke up. tears stained his face. then he checked his phone. 

thank you, kit.

he learned later that morning elena passed away. she went in her sleep. peacefully. without turbulence. no pain. no struggle. she went easily. almost willingly too.

years later, kit continued to ache. some days were agonizing; he heard her laughter in the backstage dressing rooms of music programs, in the audience at a variety appearance, during daytime strolls, in conversations he heard when passed, in his mind when he laid awake in the middle of the night; everywhere except… the club, the bar, anywhere extreme: the top of a building, the edge of a bridge, in conversations with strangers. in those instances, those mere lapses in time, kit forgot, burying the pain under disguises of temporary adrenaline and joy.

but when he did reminisce, the pain and loss was fresh, as if elena left him yesterday and not seven years ago. whoever said time heals all wounds was a liar. a fraud. time had done nothing to his wounds. they festered. they still bled. 

kit bled. 

every day. 

for the love who left him.