#mans out here taking shots the size of half the bottle

[hentired]

Americans if you think we got our shit sorted with metric, don't worry. I recently had a discussion with my uncle who was convinced 4cl is a "ridiculous" capacity for a shot glass and that it should "clearly be 40cl".

[cxtori]

Satoru Gojo ✭ Kiss Me Back

wc: basically 5k… it wasn’t meant to be lmao

summary: based off of this thought i posted a while ago

genre: angst, fluff, drunk “confession” but it gets misunderstood, friends to lovers, silly drunk Gojo

warnings: n/a

tori’s note: I finished this fic after having it in my drafts for almost a year. I kinda strayed from how my original prompt went lol. Idk how I feel about the second half of this, I’m not a huge fan of it but y’know, it be what it be. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Gojo doesn’t drink often. In fact, it’s more accurate to say he never drinks. He hates alcohol. The way it tastes, the way it burns, and especially how quickly it affects his system.

He’s always been a lightweight, it only taking a few shots before he was intoxicated. But for some reason, Shoko’s teasing pressure to get him to drink got to him a lot more tonight than usual. 

It was supposed to be only one shot, then just one more. But now, here he is, a couple hours later and 6 shots down, drunk and stumbling, leaning against you for support.

You grunt as you struggle to keep the tall man vertical and walk him down the street to your car. 

“You are amazing, Y/n,” Gojo slurs, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck. You huff and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that 3 times already,” you laugh lightly. Gojo trips over his own foot, causing you to stumble and almost fall. Thankfully, you catch yourself and keep the two of you from crashing into the concrete. 

“Jeez, Toru! Are you serious?” You ask, unbelieving that he was so intoxicated that he really couldn’t walk straight. Gojo only moans miserably in response. “We’re almost there,” you sigh.

You knew how much he hated the repercussions of drinking and tried to stop him before it was too late. But he seemed to be feeling a little self-destructive tonight, so your warnings fell on deaf ears, much to your annoyance. Even so, you still felt empathetic enough to take him home yourself, turning down Nanami’s kind offer to do so.

After another block of walking and stumbling, you finally make it to your car, opening the passenger side and awkwardly shuffling around as you try to help Gojo into the seat. It felt like he was purposefully doing everything he could to make this simple task as complicated as possible. Which, honestly, you wouldn’t put past him. 

You eventually get him and his lanky limbs into the vehicle and hold back a laugh when he groans and dramatically drapes himself over your center console, arms spilling into the driver’s seat. You walk around to the other side of the car, moving his arms carefully before sitting down and pushing him to lean against the window. 

“Okay, tough guy. You still have the water Nanami gave you?” You ask. Gojo clumsily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the water bottle he somehow managed to fit in there. Damn men’s pocket sizes.

“Good, I want it empty by the time I make it to your place,” you state, turning on the car and pulling into the street.

“The whole thing?” Gojo whines. You laugh breathily, finding amusement in his drunk demeanor.

“Yes, the whole thing. Gotta stay hydrated so drink up!” You encourage. 

The white-haired man mutters a complaint as he cracks open the bottle, and you watch dumbfounded as he drains it in seconds. 

“I didn’t mean drink it all at once…” you say. Gojo shrugs and sinks further into his seat. 

You drive in silence for a few minutes, the pale, orange street lights whizzing by and the soft, white noise of the tires rolling on the pavement making the ride a peaceful, comforting experience. At least it would be if Gojo wasn’t staring holes into the side of your face. 

In his drunkenness, he’d somehow managed to misplace his glasses and blindfold, much to your dismay. You adore those brilliant blue eyes, but damn, if they weren’t intimidating as hell when they were staring you down. You do your best to ignore it, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead of you. 

You feel your heart skip a beat when a cold, calloused finger presses gently against your temple before tracing your hairline, sweeping your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty,” Gojo whispers, his words barely audible. Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. 

“O-oh, umm… I- th-thank you,” you stutter horribly. Gojo hums softly as though he’s satisfied with your reaction before laughing lightly. His hand leaves your quickly heating face as he turns back to the window, slumping against the cool glass. 

After what couldn’t have possibly even been a minute, you hear the faintest snore come from the man. You poke his arm, expecting some kind of reaction. But nope, he’s out.

You take a deep breath and start blasting the AC. It suddenly feels really stuffy in here.

You soon reach his house and pull into the driveway before parking the car and climbing out. You open the passenger door, being careful to not let Gojo dump out onto the ground. You shake his shoulders, whispering to him that he was home and needed to wake up. After some gentle-turned-vigorous shaking, the man wakes up bleary eyed and a bit confused. 

“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” You tease, taking his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. He grunts, reluctantly swinging his feet out of the car and onto the ground. The moment he stands, he leans back against the car, his eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. 

“Shhhhit, why did I do that?” He slurs, the alcohol still screwing with his brain. At least he’s more coherent than 30 minutes ago. 

“Not to be like that, but I did try to stop you,” you joke.

“Shut up,” he groans. His eyes open and meet with yours, but instead of holding the annoyed glare you were expecting, they were soft, appreciative. His typically pale complexion was still dusted pink, though not nearly as flushed as earlier, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile to accompany it. 

He leans against you, his arms snaking around your waist in a loose hug, and his head resting heavily on your shoulder as he sighs. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Why don’t you thank me when I’ve gotten you inside!” You laugh awkwardly, pushing the large man off of you. 

Gojo pouts, his soft, pink lips protruding in a way that could only be described as borderline sensual. You tear your eyes away from him and link your arm in his to walk him into the house with much less stumbling this time.

You make it inside, Gojo dragging down the hall to his room while you dig in his kitchen cabinets in search of ibuprofen. Once you’ve found what you’re looking for, you grab a glass and fill it with water before making your way to Gojo’s room.

You knock on the door, the sound echoing through the cold, empty hallway. A muffled “come in” reaches your ears and you open the door. 

You step in and your eyes land on a half-naked Gojo sitting on his bed, stopping you in your tracks. He did say to come in, didn’t he?

He looks at you, a questioning expression written on his face. With everything he’s done this evening, it’s beginning to be hard to believe he’s not purposefully trying to fluster you.

You draw in a breath and walk over to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous.

“Here, for the potential hangover,” you say, handing him the pills and water. He takes it gratefully, downing the meds and water quickly. He sets the glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk, and an odd silence follows after. 

“Well, I’m gonna head home now. G’night, Toru,” you say, turning on your heels and heading to the door. Your hand barely touches the doorknob when Gojo says your name.

“Y/n,” he calls quietly. You stop and turn to him with a questioning hum, but he doesn’t give any response back other than a waving hand, signaling for you to come back to him. You shuffle awkwardly to stand in front of him, confused about what he wants. 

He stands up, his chest almost bumping against yours as he does so. You begin to take a step back, but before you can, his hands are on your waist, holding you in place. You look up at him to ask what he’s doing, but the words get stuck in your throat the moment your eyes meet his.

Those bright, cerulean eyes that were so often hidden from the world, were looking at you with such care and fondness that it made your chest tighten. 

Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, his warm, soft lips are pressing tenderly against yours. 

Your tense muscles relax and eyes flutter shut as your lips push back against his. His hands grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him before one lifts the back of your shirt, fingers dragging slowly over your skin. 

You sigh into him, your own hands traveling up his arms, to his neck, eventually finding home in his silky hair. His other hand moves from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss. 

His tongue darts out and sweeps across your lips and the faintest lingering taste of bitter alcohol bites your tastebuds, snapping you back to reality. It’s only then that you remember who you’re kissing, where you are, and how you got there. 

Your eyes fly open and hands move to his chest, pushing him away from you harshly. Gojo loses his balance, landing back into a sitting position on his bed, his once peaceful expression now shocked and confused. 

Your hand covers your mouth, surprised by your own actions. It’s only a second or two that you stay there, staring at each other before you decide that you should definitely leave.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you say, wasting no time in leaving his room and ignoring his calls for you. You jump into your car and start the engine before your door is even closed.

What were you thinking? He’s the drunkest he’s been in ages, how could you let that happen? You curse yourself as you drive home, frustrated that you allowed such a thing when your friend was in such a vulnerable state.

 You make it home and park in the driveway, but you don’t leave. You sit in your car and stare blankly at the steering wheel as the full weight of regret begins to sink in. 

You’ve desperately wanted that man to kiss you for years now. But not like this! Not when he was intoxicated and most likely not thinking straight. You wanted a genuine kiss; one he gave you because he truly wanted to. Not because his drunk-self just wanted attention.

How are you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps after this?

You’ll just have to lie. You’ll tell him that it was just a slip up, that you were caught off guard. That he kissed you and- dammit, you kissed him back! And not only that, you were wrapping your arms around him. You can’t play off your feelings for him when you kissed him like that!

You groan painfully as you open your door and force yourself into your house, trudging your way to your room. You change your clothes and crawl into bed before plugging your phone in. The screen lights up with the red battery, which disappears quickly, revealing a missed call and several texts from Gojo.

I’m sorry Y/n. Can we please talk?

It wasn’t what you think

Y/n?

Hello?

He almost never texts you, let alone several times in a row. But you can’t find it in you to respond. You turn off your phone and stare at your ceiling for what feels like an eternity, the moment replaying in your mind on repeat. 

It wasn’t what you think? What is he assuming you think?

You raise a finger to your mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips on yours as you trace over them. 

It was so warm, so sweet. The way he held you close to him, so strong yet gentle. The way his thumb stroked over your face so tenderly. Maybe… it was real.

No. You can’t allow yourself to believe it was genuine and get your hopes up, you can’t.

You roll over onto your side just as your screen lights up once more. You take a glance at it and find another text from Gojo. 

I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please let me explain.

A new wave of anxiety washes over you when you realize you’ll have to see him tomorrow. You do work at the same school after all. You don’t have a few days to process this or even find a way to respond. 

You wrap tighter into yourself and painful tears fill your eyes, not taking long before they’re streaming down your face and soaking into your pillow. You just want the earth to open and swallow you. 

Your only comfort is in the slim possibility that he was still drunk enough to have a chance of not having clear memories the next day. Maybe he’d wake up, see the messages he’d sent you and not even remember what it was about. 

You know it’s a foolish hope. He wasn’t drunk enough during that kiss to have no recollection of it. Even so, it’s the only thought that calms you down enough to fall asleep. 

Okay, all you have to do is file a couple reports, meet with Ijichi and Nitta, and check in with Shoko on a new corpse. You don’t even have to be on campus the whole day, just do your few tasks and leave. 

You were not going to talk to Gojo today. You’re not sure your heart can handle it right now. You’ve barely even processed what happened last night. It’s like your mind is trying to convince you it was a dream. But the unanswered texts still sitting in your inbox say otherwise. 

You decided you would do your best to avoid the inevitable conversation. You’re sure that when he sees you, he’ll likely confront you about it. But, if you were with others, you knew he’d keep his mouth shut. You can’t hide from him, but you make damn sure he can’t catch you alone.

You know you’ll have to talk about it eventually, just not today. And maybe not tomorrow. Or the day after that.

You take a deep breath as you walk into the school and head for Yaga’s office. You’re not too worried about bumping into Gojo here as he usually avoids this part of the school simply because he’s afraid of running into Yaga and being asked to do something he doesn’t want to. 

You make it there without incident and knock on Yaga’s door before entering. Thankfully, your meeting doesn’t last long as you just have to turn in your reports and give him a quick rundown of your past week’s assignments.

Next was finding Ijichi and Nitta. Which meant going to the more common areas of the school. Which meant risking running into Gojo.

At this point, you were just hoping he decided to go MIA today as he typically did. Or maybe he’d be too hung over to even bother getting out of bed. Whatever the case may be, you just hoped he wouldn’t be behind the door to which you are about to enter.

You turn the doorknob quietly and poke your head in, finding no one but Ijichi sitting at a desk looking over a stack of papers, and you feel relieved. You step inside and Ijichi looks up, a small smile appearing once he sees it’s you.

“Ahh, Y/n. You’re a bit early,” he greets kindly. 

“Haha, yeah. My meeting with Yaga didn’t take as long as expected,” you laugh softly as you walk over to the desk and take a seat across from the man. “Where’s Nitta?”

“She’s currently out with the first years. They were sent to investigate the disturbance you reported a few days ago. Turns out it was just a few Grade 3 curses roaming around.” Ijichi replies.

He shuffles the papers spread out on the desk into a few separate piles before picking up each one, shaking them into neat stacks and paper clipping them together.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” you say with a smile. “So, you said you and Nitta needed something?”

“Oh, yes. We wanted your opinion on-”

“Gooood morning!” A familiar voice calls happily as the door swings open. You hunch over in your chair and glue your eyes to the papers in front of you, not daring to look at the man. You didn’t think you would run into him this soon.

“Oh, goodmorning, Gojo,” Ijichi says.

“Ijichi,” Gojo greets and nods to his co-worker.

He turns to you, your eyes still studying the reports laying in front of you. It was obvious you weren’t reading them though, considering they were upside down to you. “Y/n,” he says quietly.

You still refuse to look at him, mumbling a barely audible “good morning” in return.

Ijichi, sensing some tension, clears his throat and returns to the matter that brought you here in the first place. He only had a few questions, wanting your opinion on which recent cases should be assigned to which students. It wasn’t long before you had fulfilled your need and could leave.

You say your goodbyes, stand from the desk and make your way to the door, still having not spared Gojo, who was leaning against one of the couches, even a glance.

Despite hiding his eyes behind that dark blindfold of his, you could tell he’d been staring at you the whole time. You could practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin. But, just as you expected, he didn’t dare bring up anything about the previous night with Ijichi in the room.

You walk out the door, thankfully leaving Gojo behind it. But you weren’t sure how long he’d stay there. You make your way quickly through the halls as you head towards the morgue. You open the door and step inside, the cold air making your body shake with a chill. 

You walk through, but find no sign of Shoko. Deciding that she must be in the office, you turn and start making your way over, it being just a couple doors down the hall. 

You step outside of the morgue and about jump out of your skin when you’re met with blinding white hair. Gojo. Of course. You should’ve known he would catch up to you. 

You stand there for a moment, him standing in the doorway and therefore blocking your exit. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, not really, only giving him quick glances. It must be so easy for him to make “eye contact” when he doesn’t really have to.

“Can we talk?” He says, his voice taking on an unusually shaky and serious tone, and you suppress a sigh. Any hope you had of him not remembering last night shattered with those three words.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quietly, desperately wanting to avoid the impending conversation. 

“Y/n,” he says, his large hand reaching carefully for your arm. You move quickly, avoiding his grasp.

“I don’t want to talk,” you say and push past him, making it through the doorway. You speed walk down the hallway to the morgue office, thankful that it’s just a few doors down. Gojo begins to say something but before he can, you’re knocking on the door, shutting him up quickly.

Shoko opens the door only a moment after you’ve knocked, silently stepping aside to let you in once she sees it’s you. Her neutral expression breaks a bit when she sees who’s behind you.

“Gojo, wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she says, referring to the rough condition he was in last night.

“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” He chuckles. He looks at you as he says this and you feel your face grow warm. Shoko walks over to her desk and shuffles through the various items in search of something.

“How are you feeling? You haven’t had that many drinks in a long time,” She asks curiously.

“I feel great actually. Y/n is a pretty good caretaker,” he says, once again looking over at you. “She’s the reason I’m not hungover.”

Yep, you certainly were. Maybe you should’ve skipped the water and ibuprofen. But that was before what happened. Past you had no idea that future you would be cursing that decision.

“He wasn’t too much trouble was he? Gojo’s always annoying when he’s drunk.” Like he’s not annoying when he isn’t drunk.

“He was fine,” you say plainly, wanting to move on from the topic.

“Fine is one way to put it,” Gojo says, an obnoxiously flirty smirk on his face. What happened to the serious and borderline nervous Gojo you had just a moment ago? Bring him back please.

“Maybe I should’ve let Nanami take you when he’d offered,” you mutter. Shoko turns back around to you, confused by the comments being made.

“Is that really what you would’ve wanted?” Gojo asks. 

“If it means we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, then yes.”

Shoko looks between the two of you, reading the looks on your faces and expertly deciphering that this was not a conversation she needed (or wanted) to be a part of.

“I’m not getting involved in this,” Shoko mutters as she collects her things and quickly leaves the room, abandoning you in this anxiety-inducing situation. “We can meet later, Y/n.”

“Ah! Wait, Shoko!” You call, but she ignores you and walks out the door. Well, this certainly isn’t what you wanted to happen. Now you had no excuse to leave and apparently didn’t have anyone to have your back. You knew Shoko saw your plea for help in your eyes and she actively ignored it. But, it is Shoko. She always avoids getting involved in things that don’t concern her.

The silence that follows Shoko’s leaving is so incredibly deafening and you hope the ground will open up beneath you. You debate leaving, but you know that Gojo will just follow you. There was no escaping it now. Dammit, and you were so close to getting out without speaking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the desk, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Y/n,” Gojo speaks softly. You refuse to look at him. You can’t. You don’t know what will happen if you do. “Y/n.” He steps closer to you and you sink further into yourself, feeling your throat tighten. “Let me explai-”

“What did you mean?” You close your eyes, finding yourself talking before you can even comprehend the words leaving your mouth.

“What?” Gojo says, confused. You sigh, annoyed with yourself now for having said anything.

“Your text. You said it wasn’t what I thought it was. What did you mean?” Gojo looks at you. Well, you assume he’s looking at you. He could be looking at the wall behind you for all you knew.

“I…” Gojo starts but doesn’t finish. He sighs quietly and leans against the chair in front of you. He doesn’t attempt to speak again for a long moment and you begin to wonder if he even plans to. And you’re right, he doesn’t speak. But instead, his hand reaches for the dark blindfold hiding his eyes, and he pulls it down around his neck, his snow white hair falling into his face.

You tear your eyes away as soon as he does, not able to bear even the thought of looking at him directly in those blue irises. Luckily, you’re not tempted to as he keeps his head down, his hair shielding his eyes from your view.

“I remember everything from last night,” the man says finally. You feel your heart sink. You knew he remembered, but for some reason, hearing him say so only made your anxiety worsen. “You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye last night,” he says with a mild, teasing tone, though it was made with minimal effort, the tension in the room making it hard to joke playfully.

Your arms tighten around you and your throat burns, your eyes remaining focused on everything but him. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be leaving in such a hurry either,” you say, risking your voice breaking into tears. Gojo chuckles.

“I thought you’d stay for a bit longer after the way you were kissing me,” He jokes, and this time it has his usual lightheartedness to it. Despite that, you feel your blood run hot through your body and for a moment you forget that you’re avoiding looking at him. Your eyes whip over to see him already looking at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Wha- you kissed me!” You whisper yell, afraid that someone outside may hear you. You can’t believe him. HE made a move on YOU, and yet he wants to talk about the way you were kissing HIM?

“Buuut, you kissed me back!” He says accusingly but airily. You close your mouth at this. He’s right, you did. And this is just what you were afraid of, him realizing that you kissing him back meant you actually enjoyed it if only a little. You couldn’t hide it.

“And I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You turn your gaze away just in time to miss the way Gojo’s face twitches and his smile drops. Before you can’t stop yourself, you continue to speak, the coil in your throat snapping and the tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me to begin with. But please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. I know you were drunk and it was a mistake just… Please, don’t tell me that.” 

The silence that follows your statement is so quiet that you can hear Gojo’s uneven breaths alongside your own. You feel the urge to run, to walk out the doors and never turn back. To find a hole somewhere to bury yourself in, never to resurface.

“You think I made a mistake?” Gojo’s words barely reach your ears, his voice so soft you almost have to strain to hear it. He looks at you, completely dejected. “Even if I did feel that way, do you think I’d come here to mock you for it? Do you think I’d be that cruel?” The hurt in his voice is so obvious that you can feel it yourself.

“I… I don’t know.” Truthfully, you did know. You knew he wouldn’t do something like that. He may be annoying, but he’s not cruel. It was out of your own fear of the outcome that you were avoiding this conversation. But then, two words in his statement stand out to you. 

Even if. 

Meaning even if it was a mistake. Meaning he didn’t think it was?

The tears welling in your eyes begin to fall when you dare to look up at him, his own already on you. But you don’t look away this time.

“Would you have kissed me if you were sober?” You ask quietly. Gojo’s shoulders slump and his face grows longer at your words. He takes a cautious step towards you, testing to see if you’ll back away. And you don’t.

“Y/n, I didn’t kiss you because I was drunk,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. He takes another step forward, this time reaching out a hand to place on your arm, and you don’t pull away.

“That’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t what you thought. I knew you figured it was an alcohol-influenced choice. And while the alcohol admittedly may have had something to do with it, that wasn’t why I did it.” Your vision blurs as you begin to cry, your tears feeling like rivers of fire as they flow down your cheeks.

“I did it because I wanted to, Y/n,” he admits. He lifts a hand to your face, wiping your tears as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.  “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice. And one I don’t regret.”

You close your eyes, not being able to see with them open anyway. His other hand moves from your arm to swipe at your tears, both hands now cupping your face tenderly.

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble. You raise your hands to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your thumbs stroking over the back of his hands. You open your eyes, your vision clear enough to see him looking at you fondly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His soft lips that, in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking about all morning.

Your gaze must have lingered on his mouth for a moment too long as his smile widens. He comes closer to you, his head towering over yours and his hands guide your face to continue looking at him.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. But.” He leans his face to yours, his warm breath against your lips. “I would like to kiss you again. And I hope you won’t run away this time.” His voice lilts in that familiar, teasing tone and your heart twists.

“I won’t,” you say with a breathless laugh. 

His large hands continue to hold your head as he moves forward, wasting no time in putting his lips against yours in a passionate but tender kiss.

And this time, you let yourself kiss him back.

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated

[dtrghost]

please.....one shot of flirty ghost with fem!reader...

flirty ghost... 😫

thank you for the request!!

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x bartender fem!reader

synopsis: Price invites the team out to a night at a renowned club in London after a job well done. Team 141 watches in surprise as Simon flirts with the hot bartender ;). I made simon rich, because I find rich guys hot, so yeah. a bit sub!ghost because he'd do anything for a girl like you.

warnings: allusions to smut (dirty ghost), flirty (probably ooc) ghost, alcohol, pining, hints at sex and arousal, etc.

part 2

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

(gif's not mine)

The strong reek of alcohol brought a sigh of relief to the team, watching a variety of people mingle and chat as they maneuvered through the crowd. Team 141 had a rough month filled with death, pain, and shitty drinks which consisted of mostly tap water or anything else they could find that wouldn't kill them. So as a treat for their success, their Captain suggested a night out in London, more specifically in a bar that he had visited with Laswell and some colleagues in the past.

"Alright gentlemen. This isn't your average pub so, behave will ya. I'm not draggin' your arses outta here tonight." He spoke, adjusting his button up shirt with a look shot at Johnny who gave him a mock offended look. Simon rolled his eyes, looking around and ignoring the weird glances at him for the mask he wore. He didn't see the point. He'd much rather drink whiskey on his couch with a shit black and white film rather than waste his money on unnecessarily expensive drinks that'll taste just the same.

But he was there, and he was dying for the liquid gold of a nice drink after the hell he endured for the last month. He strayed from the group, making his way to the bar and taking a seat. His eyes scanned over the brands on display behind the counter.

"Fuckin' hell." He muttered to himself, catching the attention of the bartender who just chuckled. A shiver ran up his spine from the sound as a woman appeared in front of him.

"Take it this is your first time, haven't seen you around before." You started, his eyes widening slightly at you. Your voice was smooth, he thought. Your American accent differed from the various European ones that flooded the room around him.

You took his appearance in with a slight raise of your eyebrow. He wore a black button up that hugged his muscular and beefy frame, the fabric straining as his arms tensed. You noticed the dog tags that hung out as he leaned on the counter, his face entirely covered by the skull mask he wore.

"Yeah, first time." You hummed, gesturing back to the bottles behind you. You glanced behind him, watching as other men that you recognized as regulars seemed to divert their usual tactics away from you tonight, focusing on other women around who'd leave them high and dry all the same. It didn't surprise you, the sheer size of the man in front of you was enough to intimidate anyone. Nobody sat next to him, his presence practically demanding his own space as others squeezed in between people two seats away on both sides to avoid being next to him.

"What can I get for you..." You trailed off, gesturing for a name to put to his masked face. He was usually cautious about who he gave his name to, years of paranoia to thank for that. But this was just one night, and he'd like never see you again.

Damn it to hell.

"Simon. Simon Riley. I'll take the Macallan, the bottle and a glass with no ice." Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, looking at him a bit unsure about how much military made in general. You only had one bottle of Macallan whiskey that night, and it was not cheap.

"Uhh.. that's Macallan No.6. £6,000."

"I know my whiskey love. If you will. You can close my tab too, s'all I want." He slid you his card, and you huffed, grabbing the full bottle and ringing him up. You half expected his card to decline, and when it didn't you were still impressed, sliding the bottle to him with his requested cup.

"Thanks sweetheart. What brings an American girl like yourself to downtown London?" He pondered, relishing the sound of your resonant laugh and the flow of your movements as you took cups and passed refills to other customers.

"I attend the University of London for biomedical engineering." You listened to his low whistle as he took a sip of his drink, sighing in relief at the burning sensation sliding down his throat. You caught sight of his plump, soft lips before he pulled his mask down again, only adding to your attraction to him.

"Pretty and smart. Lucky lad whoever he is." This wasn't your first rodeo, and it wasn't the first time someone attempted to smooth talk you while you worked, but for a voice like his you were more than happy to entertain. You liked his deep baritones, the rasp that accompanied certain words, and how delicious his accent was.

"As if. Nobody's hit the standard for that yet." He hummed approvingly. He liked women who wouldn't settle for anything less than what they wanted, and it made you that much more attractive to him, and made him want you to himself even more, though he was sure he wasn't the only one that wanted that too.

"I never got your name love." You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat as you forced your heart to stop skipping beats from the pet name. It's not like it was the first time someone called you that, you'd heard it at least 20 times since you opened, but from his lips, his voice gracing your ears, you wish he'd call you that every day. You put on your game face, willing yourself to not be so easy.

"Well, you haven't done anything to earn it so, no dice." He almost groaned, loving the sultry, unimpressed eyes that gazed into his with an aura of confidence that would crush any mediocre man that dared to try his luck with you.

"Name your price, I like a good challenge anyway." He listened to your 'hm', your hands meeting as you twisted your rings around your fingers in thought. He took a second to truly capture your image. The simple yet elegant black blazer that, even though buttoned, revealed a deep V down your chest with a nice view of your cleavage in the center. You'd been there since your freshman year, the owner liked you, the customers liked you, so you got away with a lot, including small breaks in dress code.

You looked expensive, you smelled expensive, and fuck was it the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He loved the light reflecting off the jewelry that decorated your skin, from the multiple piercings on your ears to the thick, steel bands that wrapped around your fingers. You were beautiful, brilliant, and he knew he'd be willing to do anything for another night with you.

"Since you've been nice to me tonight, I'll make it a bit easier. Come back tomorrow with a planned date, dinner preferably. Keep it simple and classy. This is a test, I have expectations that I'm not going to inform you of but they all fall under typical date etiquette. Fail to meet any of them and well, no name for you." For any other woman he'd think they were being outrageous, a full date without knowing their name? Like hell he'd do something like that. But for you? To hear your voice, to be graced with your presence, to know your name, fuck he'd take you on as many dates as you want.

"Deal pretty girl, you'll have the best night of your life." He shifted in his seat at the way your chin jutted upwards for a moment, snickering with a pleased look before you went back to your job. He watched you the entire time, switching from whiskey to water after unconsciously refilling his glass with the bottle in his hand which he ended up moving to the unoccupied seat next to him. He wanted to sober up enough so he wouldn't forget tonight, so he wouldn't forget you.

"Looks like your buddies are cheering you on over there." You noted with a small smile, gesturing to the group of guys wiggling their eyebrows at him with quiet cheers and fists in the air.

"Fuckin' hell."

"Hey it's cute. I'm assuming you're not the flirty type with them huh." You teased. He watched as you popped a quick ice cube in your mouth, sighing in relief as the bar slowly emptied, leaving just the two of them and his team a few seats down. He had to stop himself from thinking about how it'd feel with your tongue and ice against his hot, throbbing cock. How pretty you'd look on your knees, water and spit running down the sides of your mouth as you struggled to take all of his length. He rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before glancing back at them.

"Definitely not. Those fuckers never know when to lay off." You laughed quietly, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as you looked down. He couldn't help himself, reaching over and lifting your head up by your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your smooth skin. You looked surprised by his gesture, the look of self-assurance in his advances clear in his amber eyes as they lazily peered into yours.

"Don't hide that beautiful smile of yours lovie. Wanna see it as much as I can before I leave." You couldn't help the wide grin that spread across your lips, watching his eyes crease which signaled that he was a smily as you were.

"Yeah? And when do I get to see yours huh? I'm oh so curious to know what the dark and edgy skull face looks like under the mask."

"I guess you'll just have to find out after our dinner won't you sweetheart."

"Oi! Ghost ain't layin' it on too much there is he lass?" Soap interrupted, nearly shouting from his place at the bar and directing the attention of the last few people who stuck around to him.

"That's enough from you sergeant." Ghost spat, downing the rest of his water with a glare sent his way. Johnny shrunk slightly from the heat of the look, drinking the rest of his beer as Price chuckled at the both of them.

"Sergeant huh. What're you then? Seems like you give orders often. My kinda guy." You flirted, taking his glass away and putting them with the rest.

"Lieutenant. If you like orders I'm more than willing to give some to you." The wink he sent you made you brain dead enough to stumble, him quickly to stead you with his hands reaching to catch your arms as you steadied yourself against the bar counter. You huffed and stood up straight, adjusting your outfit.

"Game on playboy." You grumbled, eyes flickering to his smug ones as the team made their way over.

"Making a girl fall Ghost? Not very nice of you." Price countered, giving his subordinate a disapproving shake of his head as Simon rolled his eyes.

"I know right. Careful Casper, might get it with one of your friends instead of you don't play nice." You glanced at Johnny and Kyle who were then turning red at your look, proving that they were just as attracted to you as he was.

"If you're looking for an.... unsatisfied night then by all means, have your way with em. Especially that one." He jabbed his finger at Johnny who was too out of it to comprehend what he'd just said about him, Kyle following the same road as they leaned on each other for support. You hummed, grabbing his face with your hand under his chin and pulling his closer to you, much to everyone's surprise as his eyes blew open.

"And you're confident you can.. 'satisfy" me Simon?" You pressed, your grip on his face tightening. He didn't respond, he couldn't, the look in your eyes pulled him in. The challenge and condescending tone, the lust. The daring nature of you was captivating, it took his breath away. It made his brain go numb in the moment, much like you expected it to.

"I guess we'll see then huh, pretty boy." With that you pushed his head to the side, and he felt his bulge pressing against his pants as he took a deep breath in, recovering from the blow to his ego and the wave of arousal traveling down to his painfully hard dick.

"Bar's closed. I'll see you tomorrow Simon. Make sure you can actually get it up, I'd hate to be disappointed." He scoffed, gaining his sense of dominance and confidence back before standing up with his bottle and revealing the height that added on to his monstrous size. Your breath hitched as he leaned over the counter, the smell of whiskey and expensive cologne invading your senses as his breath fanned over your skin from his mask.

"I wouldn't worry about me love. Might wanna call off from work after what I do to you." You couldn't help but press your legs together a bit at the clench of your pussy at his words, feeling yourself grow wet from his voice as you clasped your hands behind your back. You both glanced down at your action, the tension almost too much for you to handle, letting out a breath you were holding as he leaned back and away from you.

"I'm counting on it. I need a few days off anyway." You responded as nonchalant as you could, though you could see the smirk behind his mask at the small shake in your voice.

"I'll be back tomorrow pretty girl. Be a good girl for me and get ready."

...

Son of a bitch.

And that's it!! I wanna be a hot bartender and flirt with a hot military guy with a deep voice and British accent... anyway. Thank you for the request!! It was a joy to write it!!

@kaicubus

[vampzity]

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧

Pairing: nonidol! Mingi x f! reader

Genre: fluff (PURELYYY), valentine’s day, pet names (princess, shorty), mini idol au, amusement park au, one shot, fear of heights

Synopsis: As usual, you and Mingi always spend your Valentine’s Day doing something new every year. It was practically a tradition for your 5-year relationship. Ultimately, you two decided to go to the Valentine’s Fair that happens every year in Seoul. It was overall a good time; food, games, rollercoasters and so much more. Little did you know a shinier prize would be on the list.

Now Playing: Love Story - P1Harmony

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This is a relatively shorter one shot, so I’m sorry in advance but I hope you enjoy!

San's Pt. Masterlist Wooyoung's Pt.

“Mingi!! Mingi!!! Come here and do this game for me!!”

Mingi turned around to face you, a bag of food in one hand while 3 stuffed animals rested in his other. He looked tired and out of breath as he hurried over to you, struggling to keep up.

He found you standing in front of a ring toss game, practically jumping up and down as you beamed at the huge pink teddy bear on the wall. You turned to look at Mingi, whose eyes faced the plushie while practically shocked at the size of it. Mingi stood at 6’2, making him a relatively tall guy. However, the size of that bear looked about half of his. He gulped nervously and met your eyes hesitantly.

“Shorty, are you sure you want that one? My hands are pretty full here.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his full arms, shaking from fatigue.

You returned a pout to him, looking back over to the gigantic teddy that hung. Silence filled the space between you two for a split second until Mingi sighed and turned so that his side could face you. A smile beamed on you as you clasped your hands together.

“Omg really??!! Thank you Min!!” you exclaimed joyfully.

“Yea, yea. Take the wallet before I change my mind, please.” Mingi rolled his eyes, allowing you to take the wallet from the pocket of his jeans. And that you did.

You took out a 5-dollar bill and handed it to the tenant, explaining that you wanted five rounds just to be safe. The young man nodded, handing you the rings and setting the timer at the stand. You looked at Mingi, both of you sharing a reassuring nod. The game began and you threw ring tosses towards one bottle, in hopes of it being easy. However, you were quickly humbled to see that it wasn’t as easy as you thought

Four rounds went by and the giant bear still had yet to be in your hands, making you question your existence. You stood there with a blank expression on your face, not sure if you should continue the game with a 50/50 chance of winning.

You sulked a bit as the tenant handed you the last bit of rings. You didn’t feel even the slightest amount of confidence that you’d win. You looked at Mingi, who gave you a small reassuring smile. He nodded, placing the prizes on the floor and handing you the bag of food to hold. He took the rings from your hands and pet your head softly, switching spots with you at the stand.

“Watch and learn little one.”

He threw each ring onto a singular bottle, getting 3 on one and 3 on another perfectly. There was no hesitation in his throwing and he didn’t even seem the slightest bit worried about losing. You stood there in awe, practically jaw-dropped at how effortlessly Mingi won for you. He grabbed the large bear from the tenant as everyone around him clapped, making him confused as to what all the commotion was about.

“I mean it’s just a game.. I don’t see why everyone’s clapping?” he mumbled.

He handed you the huge bear and then picked up the ones he placed down as well as the bag of food he handed you. As he began walking away from the stand, you stood there in awe still as to how he was unfazed. He continued to walk, not even looking back at you to know you weren’t following him.

“You gonna keep standing there looking pretty, princess? Or are we gonna go to the Ferris wheel?”

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you ran to him with the bear. You walked beside him, your heart filling with joy and love as you recalled how sweetl Mingi was to you.

You’ve been dating him for almost 5 years coming next month and it’s safe to say that it was the best decision you have made in a long time. You two were practically trainee sweethearts, if that’s a thing. You had met him as trainees at KQ Entertainment through Yunho, and have been close ever since. Even though you are just a backup dancer for Ateez, you still enjoy seeing Mingi perform as he does with you.

And that’s exactly how he fell in love with you.

From countless nights of practicing and nights of you perfecting his dancing skills for performances, he grew very fond of you. How kind you were, how thoughtful, and willing to put everything on the line just to help him out. How you’d constantly reassure and remind him to eat and rest on hard days or times when he practiced too hard. He appreciated it all and he still did when you two started dating, it never changed even a bit.

“Mings?”

The tall boy looked down at you, eyes soft as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your face flushed pink when your eyes met, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Thank you for today, it means a lot that you step out of your way for me.” Your voice grew quiet as you began to feel shy, quickly looking away from Mingi.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, his teeth showing in his smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, Shorty. I do this because I love you and because your happiness matters to me.” He leaned down and placed a small kiss on your forehead, giving you a slight sensation of butterflies in your stomach.

“You deserve this, I couldn’t begin to explain how nothing I do compares to what you’ve done for me.”

You smiled, your hugging on the bear tightening some. You looked up at the giant Ferris wheel that glowed full of colors ahead of the two of you.

“Thank you, Mings. It means a lot.” You grabbed onto his hand, holding the bag of food together with him. His grip squeezed yours softly as he began to walk towards the ride.

You felt a small amount of worry in you, as Ferris Wheels weren’t always your thing. Sure you loved rollercoasters, you even loved the thrill of it all, but you weren’t too keen about this ride. The uncontrollable rocking of the cart, even the long wait time in the air as the tenants had to take each individual on and off the cart one at a time. It made you a bit uneasy.

As you finally made it to the line, the nervousness you felt began to worsen seeing how short the line was. You so greatly hoped the line was long enough for Mingi to change his mind or even for you to calm your nerves. However with a line this short, it was guaranteed that you two would be next to board. You let go of Mingi’s hand, looking up at how high the Ferris Wheel sat.

Mingi looked over at you, realizing you let go of his hand which is something you normally didn’t do. You always wanted to hold him whatever the chances were, so it was a surprise to him.

“Something wrong, Princess?”

Your eyes darted away from the ride, looking over at Mingi who was concentrating on your feelings. You looked down and held your bear tightly, not exactly sure how to say what you were feeling. However, him being your boyfriend for almost 5 years, Mingi could read you like a book. He already knew and didn’t need you to say anything for him to.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. I’ll be across from you the entire time so you won’t be alone.”

He cupped your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. He grabbed onto your hand again as the line continued to move up, making you two next on board.

He set the bag of food and prices aside, then grabbed the teddy bear from you to place nearby. As he walked back over to you, he intertwined his hand with yours, slowly walking you over to the carriage.

He let you in first, soon following behind you and taking a seat across from you. You both fastened your seatbelt as the tenant closed the door. You looked at your feet, not even daring to look around you as you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. The cart began to move, making your body tense up and your eyes widen. You weren’t even focused on Mingi, all you wanted to do was get off.

“Hey,” Mingi leaned over and placed his hand against your knee, squeezing it softly.

You remained with your head down, although your eyes were now focused on Mingi’s hand. He caressed your knee softly with his thumb.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. Look at me.” he encouraged you, soon getting up from his seat and sitting next to you. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it slowly to meet his eyes, but they quickly darted to the sight around you. You realized how high you were in the air and began to panic. You felt your breath become short as your heart beat out of your chest. You weren’t sure of what to do, you felt trapped and as if you had nowhere to go.

Mingi placed both of his hands on your cheeks, pulling you to face him and only him. Your eyes quickly locked as you zoned out of your fears. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead with the hopes of calming you down.

“Breathe, Shorty. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You exhaled softly, nodding to Mingi’s words as you closed your eyes. He smiled at you, soon intertwining his right hand with your left hand. The cart was silent for a bit as the ride continued to move, making you squeeze onto Mingi’s hand for some comfort. You felt Mingi move a bit as he held your hand, making you question what exactly he was doing.

“Mingi, please don’t move. The cart will move with you,” you mumbled, not even daring to open your eyes.

He let go of your hand, giving you a small nervous feeling in your stomach. You still refused to open your eyes, even if you were curious as to why he let go of your hand. However, your safety was more important to you at that moment.

“You might wanna open your eyes for this one, Princess.”

You shook your head no in refusal, closing your arms with it. If it was your fear that Mingi was trying to help you get over, a simple line like that was not going to help anything. Mingi sighed softly, taking your hand in his as he kissed it one time. It remained held in his hand until a small faint red painted your face.

“Please, for me?”

Your heart clenched at hearing how soft his voice was to you. Even though Mingi had a deep voice, he was always sure to soften it for you so it didn’t come off as too aggressive. You felt your face flush pink as you sighed, lifting your head. You opened your eyes and quickly widened them at the sight in front of you.

Mingi stood in front of you, kneeling on one leg as he held a dark blue velvet box in his hands. It was opened toward you as he smiled at you. In the box was a shiny gold ring. A small pear-cut diamond sat pretty in the middle of its holding, followed by smaller diamonds lining the sides of the ring. Gold bands circled the outer layers of the ring to make an infinity sign. It sparkled in the moonlight, allowing Mingi to see the sparkle in your eyes.

You felt tears start to swell in your eyes as they locked with Mingi’s, who continued to beam a smile at you.

“Y/n, my sweet sweet love. We’ve been together for as long as I can recall. Wouldn’t you say it’s time to make it official?”

You were at a loss for words. Your face was completely red at his words. The nervousness you once felt, the fear that took hold of your body has now left. Peace filled within you as love gradually filled your heart. Was this his plan all along? How did this go unnoticed by you? Something this big, especially when any gift Mingi gets you is very easy for you to figure out. Was it because you never mentioned the idea of marriage to him? That he never glanced at jewelry stores? Did the boys know of this plan?

“Mingi—” you started.

He held up a finger, shaking his head at you to stop talking. You blinked your eyes in confusion as he cleared his throat.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Silence filled between you two as your mind went blank at his question. The tears that swelled in your eyes began to fall as you brought your hands to your face. Even if you were at a loss for words, your body language was enough to tell Mingi your answer.

You nodded quickly as you began to cry. You held out your hand for him to grab so that the ring could be slipped onto your finger. He pulled you into a tight hug, soon letting go to kiss you. He held his hands around your waist as your hands cupped his cheeks. The kiss was passionate, unlike any you two have shared before. Your lips intertwined softly against each other as you felt the heat of each other’s bodies. Pulling away from the kiss, you two locked eyes. He gave you a small smile with a tilt of his head.

“Thank you, Mingi. I couldn’t tell you how grateful I am and have been to have you.”

You saw his cheeks glow red at your sentence, shyly looking away from you. You kissed his cheek softly as you held onto his hands.

“You deserve it, Princess. Anything for you.”

divider creds: @cafekitsune

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! It was so hard to keep the idea for this a secret from a lot of you hehe. Wooyoung is next :3 (as a Woo bias I’m so excited for this one)

taglist: @skzline @evidive @kittykat-25 @amuromio @xoxkii @losrpark @classyrbf @sundaybossanova @owmoiralover @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog @honeyhwaaa @mingisbbokari @scarfac3

*comment to be apart of future taglists!*

[desswright29]

UMAMA

Word Count: 4.1k

Contains: PURE FLUFF!!

“Shiiitt” Shuri groaned half awake, only  because a little foot had connected with her rib cage. “That’s what you get for letting him sleep with us last night. ‘It’S CoOl  ZaH! YouR mOmS trIpPing YoU cAn StAy.” Your groggy voice came from the other side of the bed. “It’s a king sized bed I figured there was plenty of space.” She pouted. “Yea. You didn’t foresee him being horizontal by morning huh?” Shuri chuckled turning onto her back running a hand over her face. “No. I didn’t actually.”

“Mmhmm” You throw the covers off of your body, sitting up on the side of the bed to stretch. “Is it already time for you to get up. It’s still dark out?” Her eyes adjusting to the dark room. “Yes baby it’s 5 am.” You stand to your feet and yawn making your way to the bathroom. “What does Zah do when you have to leave this early and I’m not here?”

“I drop him off at moms and she takes him to school.”  Shuri let out a yawn herself. Stretching before getting out of the bed heading into the bathroom right behind you. “Damn, you have my Zah man up this early?” She turned on the water in the sink to brush her teeth as you prepared your shower.

“Not much of a choice Shuri.”

“Why doesn’t your mom just move in to help?”

“Because I’ll be damned.” Shuri let out a small chuckle. “You know you don’t hav-“

“You don’t have to work Intombi entle, move to Wakanda with me and all you have to do is thatha lo mtya ubukhulu. (Take this strap thickness)” squinting your eyes, biting your lip and rubbing your hands together, you give your best Shuri impression. Shuri raised her brow the brushing of her teeth slowing. “Is that supposed to be me?” She said her voice muffled by her toothbrush. “That’s all you baby girl and you know it. That’s why you’re trying not to laugh.” You say removing your clothes. Shuri finally let go of her laugh. “That was pretty good sthandwa. Your Xhosa is getting exceptional.” 

She spat and rinsed her mouth as you got ready to step into the shower, when suddenly you were pulled back by strong arms. A small shriek left your mouth as Shuri kissed her way down your back making you Shiver. “Baby I have to shower so I can gooo.” You chastise. “I know *kiss* I know. Just let me get full before you leave.” She placed another kiss at the center of your back and you let out a moan. Before you could reply a sharp pain shot through your ass. “Shuri what the fuck!” She’d bitten you and was latching on. “Girl let go of my ass. You’re gonna make me wake up Zah.”  She released your bottom but not before giving your bite mark a huge suck to sooth it. “I couldn’t help it. Just look at that shit.”

“Only you would brush your teeth and then bite and suck dirty ass” Shuri scrunched her face in faux confusion. “Was it dirty? Let me smell.” 

“Shuri get the fuck away from me. It’s too early for this shit.” You laugh and she joins. “I could smell it over by the sink anyway.” You throw a shampoo bottle at her as she ran out of the bathroom just in time to not get hit. “Veeeery slow sthandwa. We gotta work on that.” She spoke low from the other side of the door. She looked over at the bed and Zah was still sound asleep. Comforter bunched up around him his head now at the end of the bed. She chuckled shaking her head as she headed down stairs to make you some breakfast.

“Damn it smells good in here baby!” You walked in the kitchen to find Shuri putting the final touches on your plate of food. With her purple and black “Chef Panther” apron on and a dish towel tossed over her shoulder. Seeing her like this always gave you butterflies. How in the hell did you get so lucky.  

“Have a seat sthandwa sam. I made a lovely breakfast for a lovely lady. Some French toast with pumpkin spice whipped cream, made with Ezekiel bread I already know how you are. Turkey bacon and hashbrowns. And I’m finishing up your energy te-“ Shuri stopped in her tracks when she turned around and got a glimpse of your attire for the day. You’d decided to rock a grey power suit with a matching trench and you looked scrumptious! “Well Damn daddy, I didn’t know it was your turn to be daddy today?” Shuri sat your plate down at the bar before walking up to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Ooouu. Daddy huh? I might like that. Don’t mess around and let me get used to it.” You say seductively.

“If you’re gonna keep dressing like this you might as well cause this suit is bringing out the woman in me.” She purred. You threw your head back in a laugh. “Well you got it down pact. Look at you barefoot and in the kitchen.” You reached around her body to smack and squeeze her ass. “Staying in a woman’s place.”  You bite your lip giving her low seductive eyes. “Oh shit! You gon be my sugar daddy!” She said in her best American accent. She stuck her tongue between her teeth and moved imaginary hair behind her ear. You burst out laughing. “Girl move!” She laughed removing herself from you allowing you to sit down and eat. She sat with you as you ate and had a cup of tea.

“Ok babe. Now seriously. Remember school starts at 8am so you and Zah need to be out of here no later than 7:15 which means you need to be getting him up in the next 15 minutes!” You say while finishing up your plate and standing up to rinse it off. 

“Moooommy, mooommy, mooommy…” She says sarcastically and you give her your best mommy stare down. “I knoooow the schedule. You went over this thousands of times last night. I’m a genius babe I think I can handle Zah for a day.” You put on your gloves. “I know, I know. I just want to make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself with him this morning.” 

Shuri walks up to you, wrapping you up in her arms and pulling your chin up to where your mouths would meet. “I got him babe. He’ll be safe and well taken care of. I know you’re not used to leaving him in just anyone’s hands. But I’m not just anyone. I love him more than I love you.” You immediately pop her in the back of the head already knowing she couldn’t be serious for more than two seconds. “Ow! Don’t be a hater ubusi!” You both laugh. “Thank you baby. Really.” She places a light kiss on your lips. “Its nothing. I got you. The both of you. Now get out of here, so I can wake up Zah. Have an amazing day at work, and when you get home I’ll have dinner ready. We’ll watch some holiday movies, and tonight, I’ll make your body feel brand new. How would you like that?” She says placeing light kisses on your neck and you wrap your arms around her neck and let out a moan. 

“Mmm. I’d like that a lot.” 

“I know.” She said as she nuzzled her nose into your neck. You pulled back “ Ok seriously I gotta go baby. I’ll be here all day with you.” You step out of her arms and grab your purse. “Ok. And I want names for everyone who looks at your titties today.” 

“Shuri be for real for just a minute per day.” She laughs as you head out of the door. “Bye baby! I love you” You toss over your shoulder as you walk out.”

“I love you too mama!”

Shuri entered the room seeing Zah still sound asleep. She sat at the edge of the bed and nudged him lightly in his side. “Zah man. It’s time to get up little guy.” Zah didn’t budge. She pressed at his shoulder shaking a bit harder.“Come on kiddo.” She repeated. Zah groaned holding the covers over his head tighter. “Ooooh no.. nope it’s time to get up! I have to get you out of here on time. So your mom doesn’t trip on me. Work with me kiddo.” She said pulling the cover from over his head. 

“Uuuggghhh! I don’t wanna gooo!” He’d pulled the covers back over his head and his little muffled voice spoke from under the covers.

“Uuuuggghhh! But you have to!” She mocked sarcastically.

“Whyyy?”

“Because your mommy said so. Lets go and I’ll make you pancakes”

“Pancakes?” Zah repeated sitting up. Suddenly interested. “Your pancakes? Not the healthy ones mommy tries to makes me?” Shuri chuckled. “Well your moms not here to cook them. So yes! My pancakes.”

“PANCAKES YAAAAYYY!!” Zah hopped up, throwing his hands in the air and wiggling his little knees as Shuri laughed. She picked him up carrying him at her side like a football. He screamed with laughter as she dropped him off at the bathroom in his room. “Alright do your business. Brush your teeth, wash your face, and PEE!!” Zah giggled. 

“PANCAKES!” Shuri yelled as she sat a tray full of an assortment of her famous pancakes in front of Zah. They both were now fully dressed ready for the day. She’d made regular, chocolate, blueberry, and strawberry. Zah clapped his hands and immediately placed Strawberry and Chocolate onto his plate drowned them in syrup and dove in. Shuri sat to eat the remainder with him. 

“Shuri.” Zah says

“Hm?” She responded mouth full.

“I don’t wanna go to school”

“Zah, I don’t want to hear it. You’re already dressed and ready to go and you have to go learn all that you can so you can come to Wakanda and help me in my lab.”

“But it’s the last day before Thanksgiving break! We’re not learning anything. Just watching a movie. And I’ve already seen Trolls like a bagillion times!” 

Shuri gave an exasperated sigh. “That does sound like a pretty lame day.” 

“I want to hang out with you. It would be a bunch more educational.” Zah looked at Shuri smiling from ear to ear, giving her the cutest puppy dog eyes. 

“Laying it on thick huh?” Shuri smirked

Shuri sat in contemplation. Her hand coming up to rub her chin. After a moment she looked back at Zah. “Ok. You can hang with me.”

“Yeeeeesssssss!!!!” Zah jumped up wrapping his arms around Shuri. “Thank you. You’re the coolest!” 

“Yea yea I know! Calm down, we’ve gotta go over our game plan. Are you listening?” 

“Yes!” Zah yelled. “Oookay!” Shuri says enthusiastically. She points a finger at him. 

“So first off, if your mom calls I’ll point at you. And when I point you freeze. Hold your breath if you have to. But she CAN NOT know that you are with me. Let’s practice. Dance.” 

Zah stands and starts doing his version of the gritty. “Ooouuuu kill ‘em Zah! Go Zah, go Zah.” Shuri hyped and then she pointed.

“Like this.” Zah stood frozen in a running position with his mouth in a bubble. 

“Boom! Juuuuust like that. You’re brilliant!” Shuri gave a slow clap. “Now if your mom asks about your day. It was great school day, you had fun. You ate cookies, and watched trolls. Got it.”

“Got it!”

“Your mom can NEVER know about today.”

Zah shook his head “Never!” Shuri smiled as they did their special handshake. “Partner in crime forever.” 

“Ok kid. How do you feel about a trip to the avengers headquarters?”

“Let’s Gooo!!”

“Shuri look!!” Shuri looked up just in time to see Peter hanging upside down from the ceiling as he held Zah. 

“Really Pete.. Get down!” Shuri scolded.

“Why?  He’s having fun! Kids in a room full of super heroes it’s not like hes gonna get hurt.”

She shook her head turning and continuing her call as Peter began swinging around the building with Zah hanging on having the time of his life. “Becareful!!”

“Whatever Panther!” Shuri rolled her eyes. 

“She’s going to kill you Shuri.” Riri stated. Riri and Shuri were able to remain friends and colleagues after Shuri opened up to her about the way she’d always felt about you. Riri was very supportive of you and Shuri’s relationship and was now in her own happy relationship as well.

“She’ll never know.” Riri smirked on her end of the call. “You think so? Hmm ok.” Shuri smacked her lips. “ Oh ye, of little faith.”

“And oh ye of little knowledge. She’s gonna find out and she’s gonna have your ass for dinner.”

“Ooouu, that sounds like treat.” Shuri smiled

“Ugh! Anywho. I’ll send you the sketches of the updates for my suit. If you can double check those calculations for me.”

“Cool Ri, I got it!”

“Thank you. And good luck.”

“I don’t need luck. I’m too smooth.” 

“Girl bye!”

As if Riri had spoken you into exisistence immediately your picture popped up in holographic form. Shuri’s heart dropped into her stomach, and in an effort to hang up with Ri she answered your call. 

“HEEEEYYY BABYYYYY!!” Shuri said obnoxiously loud in an attempt to get Peters attention so that he could get Zah quiet. You squinted in confusion at Shuri’s unusual amount of enthusiasm. 

“Hey babe! I was just calling to see how Zahir got off to school. He wasn’t too much trouble was he.” 

“Oh no babe! He was a perfect angel!” 

“That’s crazy! He always gives me such a hard time!”

“Well, what can I say sthandwa..” Her eyes followed Peter and Zah praying they stayed off in the distance.

“What’s wrong with you? What are you looking at!” 

“Oh, No-“

At that moment Peter flashed by with Zah’s laughter zooming by. Shuri dropped her wrist waving them down. Her face balled up in frustration. She got their attention and pointed at Zah. Zah loudly whispered. “WE GOTTA FREEZE!” Shuri slapped her hand over her forehead. “Fuck. I’m caught.” She whispered. She lifted her wrist back up to her face and there was a stern look on your face.

“Yes, yes you are caught. But not because Peter just flew by dangling my baby in the air from a web! You’re caught because after an hour of a child being absent the school calls to inform me of my child’s absence!” Shuri looks like deer caught in headlights as Zah gathers Peter and everyone within walking distance telling them to freeze and catch a bubble. Whispered laughs echoed the building as everyone played the game staring at Shuri for the signal to move. 

Shuri just shakes her head rubbing the back of her neck. “Damn.” She said

“Damn is right. I’ll talk to you when I get home.” You hang up in her face. 

“She’s mad as fuck” She whispered

Shuri looks back up and Zah’s face is turning red from him trying to hold his breath. “Holy shit breath!” She says and everyone collectively gasps and burst into laughter. 

“Ooouu you said a no no word.”

“And you know know not to say it. So don’t.” Shuri looked at him sternly. “Come here Zah.” Zah ran over to Shuri as she squatted getting eye level with him. “So mommy know and since we’re already in trouble we might as well have blast before your mom takes me out. Wanna go ride go-karts?!”  

“YES!”

Shuri took Zah to Fast Eddie’s. They rode the ferris wheel, the train, drove go karts, and played laser tag. They ate pizza and cotton candy and played all the arcade games. Shuri won Zah so many prizes they had to put them on a cart for when they left. Right now they were on the last lap of their last round on the go karts and then they were due home. Shuri had called a cleaning company to make sure the house was spotless when you returned home and had Aneeka let them inand ordered lots of flowers, your favorite Crème brûlée donuts, and she still had to make dinner. So it was time to go. 

As Shuri exited the car Zah stayed seated. “Let’s do it one more time!”

“You said that last time Zah. It’s time to go now.” 

“It’s not that long and I promise it’ll be the last time.”

“Zah, get out of the car”

“I don’t want to! One more time!”

“Zah! I said NO!” Zah’s lip began to tremble and he began to thrash his little body around in a temper tantrum. Shuri reached into the car unbuckling Zah, pulling him up by his arms and throwing him over her shoulder. She silently walked out of the building with the screaming boy. 

“My toys! What about my toys?!” When they get to the car Shuri opens the door sitting him in the car and squatting down to his level. 

“You haven’t given me very many reasons to punish you Zah. But, from this day forward you should know that I do not reward bad behavior. 

That little show you put on in there will never go over well with me. So you know longer have the privilege of toys. Now sit back, put on your seatbelt, and be quiet.” She states calm and stern. Zah, shocked that Shuri was actually getting on to him. Sat back and did as he was told with tears in his eyes. Shuri checked his seatbelt and shut the door and hopped into the front seat to began a silent journey home. Her heart hurting and her eyes stinging.

“Shuri.” A small voice came from the backseat as the car stopped at a red light. “Yes?” She answered softly. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“I am dissapointed yes.”

“Do you hate me?” Shuri turned in her seat looking back as a tear dropped from Zah’s eye. 

“No! Absolutely not Zahir. Griot. Initiate automated drive home.” 

“Yes, Panther. Initiating automated drive home.” Shuri removed her seatbelt climbing into the backseat.

She wrapped Zah in a hug kissing the top of his head. “I could never hate you! I do the things that I do for you because you’re such a brilliant well mannered child. I love you very much and I love doing things for you. But obedience and gratefulness will get you far little one. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you and your mother. And neither of you have to act out to get it from me.  Is that understood?” Zah nods against Shuri’s chest lt as the car pulled up to the house. 

“Now when we get inside I need you to go hang out in your room while I cook and do damage control with your mom.” She let him go and smiled and he gave her a smile back.

“Yes ma’am” 

When you got home the smell of a clean home and cooked meal greeted you, along with several assortments of flowers all over the house and soft music playing from the kitchen. You bypassed the kitchen and head right into Zah’s room. He sat peacefully doing a puzzle with “Adventure Time” playing on low on his television. 

“Well hello, my little school skipper.” Zah looked up at you with a bashful look on his face. 

“Mommy please don’t be mad at Shuri. I talked her into it and she just wanted me to have fun!” You walked further into the room losing the door behind you. “Oh, I don’t doubt that one bit. You should be less concerned about Shuri and more concerned about the trouble you’re in.” Zah gave his best sad face.

“I don’t care about those eyes, hand me that tablet and your switch. I’ll give them back when I see fit.” Zah sighed in defeat getting up to collect his favorite items and had them to you.

“Ok. Get yourself prepared for dinner.”

“I already ate and got sent to my room for the night.” You furrow your brows.

“What?”

“I threw a tantrum on the go karts and Shuri made me leave all of the toys there and sent me too my room.” Your heart fluttered a bit immediately concerned for Shuri. 

“Ok. Well do that then. And no youtube.”

“Yes ma’am” He called as you exited the room and headed back down stairs. 

As you made it to the top of the stairs you see Shuri at the bottom waiting for you with a glass of wine and an apologetic face. You give her a steely glare as you descend the stairs.

“Sthandwa sam, Ndiyaxolisa kakhulu (I’m so sorry)”

“Don’t you try to Xhosa your way out of this Udaku.” You say removing the glass of wine from her hands and walking past her into the kitchen as you take a sip. Shuri trailed right behind you. Entering the kitchen you find that 

she has your favorite meal prepared by candelight. You’re favorite delicacy from your favorite bakery displayed beautifully in the center of the table. You remove your jacket and place it on the back of a chair and turn to face her. 

“Shuri what were you thinking!” 

“I wasn’t. I just wanted to have a fun day with just him. We never get to hang out by ourselves. And it was the last day before he was on break! They weren’t doing anything anyway.” She spoke fast as if she was a child in trouble with her mom. 

“Well I see how he got you.” You say picking up your drink, taking another sip and leaning against the counter. Shuri chuckled dropping her head. “As much as I want to chew into you. I hear you’ve learned your lesson.” She looked up at you with a slight smirk, nodding.

“He went crazy on me. I’d never seen him act like that!”

“It hurt your heart to have to punish him didnt it?”

“Tore me up.”  She said with a pained expression. You laugh. 

“Where are the toys?” Shuri feigned confusion.

“Huh?”

“The toys you supposedly left at the arcade?” Shuri had once again been caught. “They’re upstairs in the guest closet.” You cocked your head to the side and the both of you burst into laughter.

“You’re such a softie. He only got like that because of all the sweets I’m sure you allowed him to have as he literally hang from the ceiling.” Shuri’s laughter continued. 

“I’m sorry about that babe, truly.” She said as she walked up to you placing her hands on your lower back and massaging. “I apologize for adding stress to your day and it will never happen again.” Your head fell forward onto her shoulder. 

“Yes you did. But I’ll forgive you because you’re amazing with your hands.” You hummed. “Oh really. I’m good with other things too.” She lifted you up placing you on top of the counter as you squealed. She immediately started kissing on your chest. “Shuri what are you doing?” She took the glass from your hand  and placed it away from you on the counter. “Ending my apology properly.” She began unbuttoning your pants. As she continued kissing you. “Babe Zah.” 

“He’s on punishment he’s not coming down here.” She gave your thigh a couple of taps. “Lift up.” Without hesitation you lift yourself as she slides your pants and underwear down over thighs sliding them off with your heels still in place. She slid you to the edge of the counter and threw your legs over her shoulders wasting no time spreading your lips and tongue kissing your bud. You gasp, slipping your fingers into her curls and arching your back. “Ooohhhh Fuck! Shuriii”

You’d eaten and been eaten, gotten Zah all bathed and were now settling in a bath that your very apologetic girlfriend had made for you. Shuri was upstairs finishing up a bedtime story for Zah.

“Did you get in trouble?” Zah asked Shuri.

“Big trouble! But it was worth it because we had a blast today and I’ve got a feeling I’m in the clear now” She laughed

“Yea today was the best EVER! Can I ask you a question Shuri?”

“Ofcourse kid.”

“You love me and my mommy right?” Shuri smiled. “More than anything in this world.”

“So you’re going to marry her?” He asked inquisitively. Shuri chuckled.

“That’s the plan. Little man.” Zah smiled big. 

“Cool!” Shuri tucked him into his bed. And walked toward the door. “Goodnight,

Zah man.”

“Wait! One more question.”

“What’s up?”

“What do people in Wakanda call their mommies?”

“Umama.”

“Oh ok. Goodnight, Umama.” Shuri’s heart rose into her throat. Her eyes watering. She flicked off the light before her tear fell. 

“Goodnight. unyana wam (my son)”

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

taking transfem stevie at a metal concert into my own hands yall gotta see the potential

also on ao3 here

This isn't Eddie's first rodeo. When he sees the pretty girl standing at the side of the concert, looking out of place in her baby pink sweater and light-wash jeans, he wonders what the hell a girl like this is doing at a metal concert, clutching a bottle of coke and watching the crowd like a hawk. And more importantly, as a red-blooded American male, he wonders what he can do to make her look at him that intensely. 

So he sidles up to her, gives his best winning smile that shows off his dimples, and introduces himself. 

“Hey,” he says. “Hope you don't mind the cliché, but I gotta ask: what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The girl gives him a sideways look. She's got pretty eyes, droopy and a lovely warm brown, and her face seems to go through a wild array of emotions before settling on something lightly amused, huffing out a laugh. 

“Babysitting,” she says. She's got a nice voice too, a little husky but musical. Eddie’d love to hear her sing. “Some kids I used to watch in middle school wanted to come, but their parents wouldn't let them unless I came to make sure they stay out of- what's that thing called where everyone makes a big circle and beats the shit out of each other? The mash pit?”

She says it with an adorable tilt to her head, her shoulder length brown hair bouncing a little as she does, and Eddie swears he falls in love right then. Mash pit. That's hilarious. 

“The mosh pit, yeah, good call. Not the best place for little kiddies.”

The girl snorts. “Not that little. They're seniors in high school, I’m only like five years older than them. Doesn't stop them calling me mom though, little shits.”

Eddie laughs. He likes this girl. “Well, I’m Eddie,” he says, holding out his hand. The girl gives it a slightly bemused look, and shakes it. “Can I get momma bear a drink? Another coke?”

She looks at him for a second, assessing him somehow, then shrugs. “Sure, as long as you promise never to call me that again. I’m Stevie.”

“Stevie,” he says, rolling the name over his tongue. It suits her. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Be right back!”

Stevie blushes a pretty pink as he leaves, practically the same shade as her sweater, and as much as Eddie’d like to stay to see what else he can say to put that colour on her face, he's made a promise. 

He makes his way over to the little bar at the back of the concert and orders a coke for her and a beer for him. As he's waiting for the bartender to pass him the drinks, he hears someone call his name. 

“Henderson!” he yells, immediately pulling the kid into a hug and obligatory noogie. “Been too long man, look at you! Almost human sized!”

It's been three years since he'd last seen any of his little sheepies, since he'd put Hawkins in his rear view mirror and gotten the hell out of dodge. He'd missed them. And Dustin had shot up in those years, as tall as Eddie now. If Eddie's not careful he'll start to tear up. 

“Fuck off man,” Dustin says, goofy grin spread wide across his face. “Come on, you gotta say hi to everyone! Mike and Will are here too- Lucas didn't wanna come he'll be so pissed-”

As Dustin says it, the bartender returns, setting down the beer and the coke. Dustin clocks it immediately, little genius that he is. 

“Oh are you with someone?” he gasps dramatically. “Does Eddie the Banished finally have a girlfriend?”

Eddie rolls his eyes as he grabs the drinks. “No, but I was working on that before I was so rudely accosted by a child-” pause for outrage- “but don't worry man, I'll be right over, it's been way too long, gotta see how my babies have been doing navigating the hell that is high school without me! Just lemme drop her drink off, I don't wanna be rude.”

Dustin nods, following behind Eddie as he weaves through the crowd, talking a mile a minute about Hellfire and all the campaigns they've been running the past few years. Eddie half listens, but honestly kind of tunes him out. The crowd is thick and loud, he's trying not to spill the drinks, and honestly, while he loves the kid, Dustin kind of sucks at re-telling stories. He'll get the rundown from Will later. 

All this means he doesn't notice when Dustin falls silent, just as they reach Stevie. Her eyes are wide as she sees them, blankly taking the coke from Eddie and staring at Dustin with a weirdly panicked look on her face. 

“Sorry, baby, really wanted to get to know you better but I ran into-”

“The girl you were flirting with is Stevie????” Dustin shrieks, and god, Eddie’d forgotten how loud he could get. 

He looks back and forth between the two of them. “You two know each other?”

Stevie sighs, looking up to the sky as if begging god to strike her down. “Yeah, this is one of the kids I’m babysitting.”

Something niggles at the back of Eddie's mind, even as Dustin and Stevie get into a heated back-and-forth about the use of the term ‘babysitting’ which ends up in Stevie getting Dustin in a loving sisterly headlock. Something about how Stevie said she’d babysat the kids since middle school, about how she kind of looks familiar if he tilts his head just right, about how when Eddie first met these kids they'd never shut up about-

“So yeah, sorry about this, and thanks for the coke,” Stevie says, avoiding eye contact even as she maintains her grip on Dustin. He seems to have given up fighting now and has resigned himself to his position tucked up against her side. Eddie's never been more jealous in his life. “Uh, last I saw Mike and Will were over by the stage, if you wanna catch up with-”

“Wait, Harrington?” The cogs in Eddie's brain have finally stopped turning, and arrived at the inevitable conclusion. Because yeah, looking at her again, this girl is definitely Harrington. Same hair, if a little longer, same golden skin spattered with moles, same bedroom eyes. The only major difference is the boobs (and the hips and the thighs and the lip gloss and good god, those boobs- Eddie's gotta stop that train of thought. Dustin’s right there).

Eddie's still pretty sure the reason he failed his second senior year was because of Harrington. He'd just figured out he was bisexual, and as a man with working eyes he'd immediately developed an unhealthy infatuation with the prettiest boy in school. They had like every other class together, and Eddie had not absorbed a single word any of their teachers had said during them. 

At his words, Stevie's face shuts down. She drops Dustin, who immediately places himself between her and Eddie, eyes flitting back and forth between them as he shuffles uncomfortably. 

“Uh, yeah. Well, it's Henderson now, my parents didn't exactly love-” she waves a hand vaguely up and down her body- “this. But Mrs. Henderson took me in, so…”

She's tense, and so is Dustin, and it breaks Eddie’s heart a little bit. He knows it never really came up during Hellfire, although he'd tried his best to let them, Will especially, know that everyone was welcome there, no matter what flavour of freak they were. But Stevie doesn't know that, and Dustin doesn't know it for sure, so he does his best to look non-threatening. 

“That's cool. Not the parents kicking you out thing- that sucks obviously- but I bet Dustin’s psyched you're officially his sister. Kid never shut up about you during school.”

And watching Stevie relax at that, the little smile that paints her lips, it's intoxicating. She's so beautiful when she smiles. Eddie never wants her to stop. 

“Thanks,” she says, quiet. If Eddie wasn't paying probably the most attention he's ever paid in his life to this woman, he might not have caught it over the sound of the music and the crowd. “And hey, I’m sorry about how I was during school, if I ever-”

Eddie waves her off. “Honestly you weren't that bad. It was mostly your friends. And I mean, benefit of hindsight, I can see why you wouldn't wanna speak up, draw attention to yourself.”

“Still,” she says with a little shrug. “Not cool.”

Eddie grins. “And heaven forbid the queen of Hawkins High do anything uncool.”

Stevie laughs, a beautiful bubbling sound that seems to surprise her as much as it does him. “Yeah, I guess.”

And the night goes on. Stevie waves over Mike and Will and they spend the rest of the concert barely listening to the music, just reminiscing and catching up. Eddie insists on buying all of Stevie's cokes and she insists on buying all of his beers. And at the end of the night, Stevie piles the kids into her beemer, the same one she had all of high school, and turns to look at Eddie. She's got that look in her eyes again, sharp, assessing, and Eddie has to fight off a blush. 

“Here,” she says, pulling a pen out of her purse and pulling Eddie's hand close. She writes a number on it. “Call me sometime. And Henderson I guess, we do live together. So you know, don't open up with anything too weird, he could answer.”

“No accidentally flirting with your little brother, got it,” Eddie replies with a giggle. He's so happy he feels high. This is embarrassing, he's pathetic. 

“Good,” she laughs. Gives his hand a little squeeze before she pulls back and gets into her car. 

He watches her go with a little wave, and makes sure she's definitely gone before he does a dumb little jump and punches the air. He looks down at the number on the back of his hand. There's a little heart next to it. He's never washing his hand again. 

[chaosheadspace]

Oooh, jeans swap, please?

As some of you know, I sometimes like to do silly little crack fic ideas on discord that otherwise never see the light of day. This one I wanted to finish. There's a smutty second half missing.

Here, have the first half!

Hob awkwardly stands around in the vicinity of the buffet table. Not because he's feeling uncharacteristically unsociable, oh no. No, earlier this week he'd thought that for his best friend's informal engagement party he'd spring for a new pair of fancy black jeans, to go with his burgundy shirt. Well.

He'd put it off until the morning the day of, this morning to be precise, because life is like that, and maybe Hob is a little bit like that, too.

Point being, he'd hastily bought the first pair that fit, and while they're great jeans, fantastic, really, he hadn't taken the time to sit down in them.

And now it turned out he can't. Because they're too small.

Not obviously so, but his hips feel kind of pinched, and his junk just the wrong way of hugged, and if he tries to lower himself onto a chair—well, let's just say it's better if he doesn't, or Jo finds out just exactly how lucky he's planned to get at her party, and it would probably be the last straw. Hob doesn't want her to take back her offer of him being best man.

So he stands next to the buffet table, hiding the pinch of the trousers that's trying to show on his face behind a bottle of beer.

Then he spots the reason he's wearing a new pair of jeans (and, more importantly, a well trusted pair of lace under them). Dream, the younger brother of the other bride-to-be, perpetually clad in black, his beauty only outshined by his aloofness. Nonetheless, Hob had convinced himself to shoot his shot as soon as he had laid eyes on him a few weeks earlier.

Dream—looks more pinched than usual, his hands fisted in his pockets, hunched and sour. Hob has no time to focus on that however, because Dream is wearing a mesh crop top, and his jeans are very, very low slung; so low his hip bones peek out of the waistband, beckoning Hob to look, to touch, to taste.

No, Hob shakes his head. Asking comes first. Just as he tries to scrape the courage together to sidle over to Dream—because let's face it, normal walking isn't possible right now—Dream fixes him with a determined gaze and suddenly his jeans are the only thing keeping his blood flow even and away from his crotch.

When Dream reaches him, Hob only just remembered how to breathe. Thankfully his search for a cool but appropriate greeting is unnecessary, because Dream speaks first.

“Would you be amenable to accompany me to the bathroom? I have a proposition that I think would be to our mutual satisfaction.”

Hob swallows and then clears his throat in the hopes of finding control over his voice again. Lord knows his eyes and brain are a lost cause.

“I—uhm—yeah? Gladly.”

Dream smirks and tugs him along, and Hob hobbles after him as quickly as he can manage, elated that he will finally get to put his hands down the back of those—wait, these are the same jeans, aren't they, the very same kind, except maybe for the size. Hob instantly promotes them to his number one lucky trousers, despite the abysmal fit.

He's tugged into the bathroom, and then into a stall, and suddenly Dream is so close that Hob can smell his aftershave and that his hair tickles Hob's cheek as he locks the door behind them. The stall is tiny, really, but Hob doesn't mind one bit. It's not like they need much space to do what they came to do here. The closer the better. Hob would have crawled under the buffet table with him if he'd asked.

Dream smiles at him, a tiny, determined thing that makes sparks race up Hob's spine, and starts to unzip his jeans. Hob bites back a whine.

“I could not help but notice that we are wearing the exact same trousers,” Dream says, “and that yours… do not quite fit you as they should.”

This is probably the most lowkey compliment on his arse that Hob had ever gotten in his life but he gladly takes it, especially given their current situation. He hungrily eyes the black boxers that come into view now that the jeans are halfway down.

“So seeing as mine are a little too wide for me, I thought we might swap?”

Hob stills, his hand raised halfway to Dream's face to draw him in for a kiss. Of course. Of course this is something innocuous. Of course Dream doesn't really want him. And Hob's not one to proposition a guy when his literal trousers are down.

He nods, and starts peeling off the denim, at least until he remembers just what he's wearing under it. But he's got no choice, has he? And Dream had started undressing earlier than he had, and now he's waiting for Hob, jeans hanging over his arm, watching.

So Hob doesn't stop, only blushes and averts his gaze as he reveals the red lacey knickers he's wearing underneath. He can't very well tell Dream that he's put them on with him in mind now, can he? But it's enough that Hob himself knows, and being watched as he undresses by the object of his desire bordering of five weeks now really doesn't help.

Hob's hips breathe a sigh of relief as they're freed and he fervently hopes that he won't get a boner. He's decidedly not focusing on Dream's slim legs, no.

When they exchange their trousers Hob is very sure he's only imagining the amused glimmer in Dream's eyes. His hip bones are appropriately covered now, which more than makes up for by how Hob's former jeans hug his backside just right.

He's getting a very good look at it, too, because Dream is leaving without another word. After taking a fortifying breath, Hob exits the bathroom, too, and immediately takes advantage by sitting down on a chair.

He spots Dream talking to his sister, Jo's fiancé, who shoots Hob a look and wiggles her eyebrows.

Hob groans. Great. Now Dream's sister thinks they got it on in the bathroom at her engagement party.

He just wishes it were true.

[aspenwritesstuff]

Part Seven: Just You

🌹 prev 🌹 masterlist 🌹 next (coming soon)

🌹taglist: open! @drhsthl, @propertyoftoru, @pumkiinpasties @raehawthorne

🌹 permanent taglist: @svintsandghosts, @notastraykid

"Felix smiling because of you was quickly becoming one of your favorite things, and when he rushed forward without warning to hug you? You realized his hugs may be one of them, too." "Hugging Felix was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after being out in the cold. Comfortable, easy, soothing."

warnings: cheating mention, mentions of blood and snot, self-doubt, swearing, mention of violence, not a whole lot of warnings for this chapter, really, it's a lot of fluff.

wc: 5582

author's note: hi, hello. I am alive! I'm so, so sorry for how long it's taken me to update this fic. Writing has been hard, the last year has been a hell of a time. but I'm back now, and I hope that it was worth the wait. If you're still here, thank you. I appreciate your patience and love for PMW.

xoxo,

Aspen

As Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender opened his freezer to pull out a frosty bottle of liquor, you felt at peace. Despite the clutter here and there, his apartment managed to radiate the same comfort and warmth as the man himself. 

Following a heartfelt apology for the mess - along with an explanation, despite your insistence that you didn’t mind the few things he’d left out, that he simply wasn’t expecting company - Felix had given you what he referred to as “the grand tour.” 

Felix had given a remarkable amount of attention to detail whilst showing you around, as if you were staying longer than just a night, and made sure to show you where every single thing you could possibly need would be located. He’d even shown you how to operate his game consoles with a reasoning of, “Just in case you’re awake after I am,” and a bright smile.

“You could be a realtor, if you ever get bored of tending bar,” you mused, pulling yourself from the memory of your tour before casting Felix a teasing smile. He chuckled before shaking his head and pouring a shot in two of the glasses you’d made for him.

“I don’t know about that,” he said with a comedic level of wariness, drawing out the words as he tucked away the only unused part of your gift away in the cupboard, “But I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Your gaze was drawn to the pale blue in the midst of clear glass as your gift to Felix bumped against crystal, a tinge of self-consciousness settling in your thoughts at the absolute contrast to the things he’d already owned. He didn’t seem to mind, though, the corners of his lips remaining curved upwards in a content smile as he shut the cupboard. “Here,” Felix’s voice broke through the train of thought you’d been spiraling down, the squeak of ceramic against granite accompanying the sliding of the minty green cup to you.

“Thanks.” You managed, tearing your eyes from one out-of-place little shot glass to another, taking it into both of your hands despite its size. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have a celebratory drink in honor of your victory?” He said with an innocent seriousness, though he couldn’t hold his smirk towards his own joke for long. “Which victory?” You asked in reply, his lightheartedness paired with the way his head cocked to the side like a curious cat while he’d awaited your reply bringing a small smile to your own lips. “Being the number one fake girlfriend, of course!” He said with a blinding smile, holding up his pink shot glass filled with soju as he waited for you to toast with him, “To the best fake girlfriend in the world!” His prideful tone made you laugh quietly as you lifted your own glass to his with a small ‘clink’ that only tiny little ceramic glasses could make, downing your shot before speaking breathlessly through the burn, “You know, you’re not a half bad fake boyfriend either.” Felix absolutely beamed.

“Now you’re just flattering me,” his voice carried his smile, making it unknown whether or not the heat in your chest was the lingering effects of the soju or simply Felix’s warmth.

“You got a split lip for me tonight, I’d say that definitely got you some points,” you corrected him as he filled the glasses once more, sliding yours back over to you. “And you cleaned it up for me, so the score is evened,” he countered, raising a brow as if challenging you to argue. Of course, you did. “You cleaned my mascara up, too.” “Blood is arguably grosser than gray tear tracks,” he said with a tilt of his head, a hint of a smile betraying just how seriously he was trying to convince you he was taking this. “I snotted on your blazer,” you scoffed, “That’s pretty gross.” “I work at a bar, I’ve seen grosser.” “Touche,” you conceded before downing your second shot, pondering for a moment on how the evening had unfolded before speaking, “I’m still sorry, y’know, about–” “Ah-ah!” Felix held up a finger and shook it, his brows shooting up, “No apologizing for something I chose to do.” “But you–” “I said no apologizing!” he repeated firmly, a frown on his normally cheerful face nearly being enough to make you stop.

As powerful as a pouting Lee Felix was, your guilt was stronger. “You wouldn’t have gotten punched if it weren’t for me.” Felix paused at that, his goofy little scowl morphing into a genuine, parted-lips look of surprise and contemplation. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you now. I’d do it again,” he said earnestly, looking right past your eyes and into your soul. He’d been pretending before, but now? Now Felix was actually serious. “Felix…” you began, trailing off as you realized you couldn’t say what you wanted to. Surely Felix would frown for real if you told him that you didn’t think you, yourself, were worth the trouble - and genuinely upsetting Felix sounded like a great way to cry for the third time this evening. “I’m serious!” he insisted, taking his second shot and dutifully pouring you both another, “And, honestly? That guy seemed like a dick. I’d probably have punched him eventually anyway, y’know? So stop blaming yourself for a silly little scrape.” You sputtered out a laugh, having failed to hold it back at the idea of San and Felix somehow meeting without you as a mutual existence in their lives. “You think so?” You asked him, still trying to hold back from simply cackling at the notion. “Oh, for sure. Assholes love going to bars, and I work at one. I’m sure I’d have seen him eventually and he’d have done something that would warrant a punch.” You couldn’t argue that, at least. San did have a penchant for being a dick pretty much anywhere he went. “I don’t see you as the ‘punch-a-random-dude’ kind of person, Felix,” you argued the next best - and valid - thing you could.

“He isn’t a random dude, he’s a prick and he sucks,” Felix said somberly, looking gravely serious as he slid your refilled cup over to you.

The laugh that threatened to escape had now succeeded, making you cover your mouth while it made its way through you and out into the air. Once it had died down, Felix took his shot and sighed, looking a bit conflicted. You wondered what on earth could be so serious in his little sunshine-y head, but you didn’t have to ponder long. “So…who was that guy?” Felix asked quietly, averting his eyes as if afraid the question would be far too much. Normally, he’d be right…but now? You weren’t sure if it was because it was Felix asking, or the way he’d been there for you tonight, or the soju that was now effectively making you relax, but you would tell him. It was weird. Jisung knew about San because he’d been there firsthand, but otherwise you simply opted out of sharing. Of course, there were mutual friends of you and San’s who’d ask you, but you would always abruptly change the subject and then make a point not to see those people again. So, it was weird…

But you wanted to tell him. “That was San,” you answered him in a sigh, lifting your shot to your lips and taking it in one fell swoop - you’d likely need it. “And he is?” Felix prompted you to continue, though not aggressively. He was gentle about it, pulling the information from you like a splinter that might hurt, but needed to come out. He wasn’t being nosy, he wasn’t being impatient. He was being compassionate. 

As if just as much as you wanted to tell him, he wanted to know. Not for gossip, not for himself…but to understand. “He’s my ex,” you answered simply, setting your shot glass down as Felix immediately pulled it close to himself again, waiting to pour until he was sure you’d finished a complete - if not short - sentence. “You dated him?” Felix asked in an almost dumbfounded way, like the idea of San having once been someone you cared about was unreal. “I almost married him,” you corrected, watching as Felix’s eyes widened briefly before he regained his composure. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said quietly, putting the now empty soju bottle next to the sink before moving around the counter to stand next to you rather than across. You appreciated his proximity more than you’d want to admit.

“Dodged a bullet, didn’t I?” you murmured, a dry laugh leaving you as you stared down at the shot of soju, “Or, I guess, the bullet dodged me in favor of a different target.” “No…” Felix whispered, going wide-eyed, “He..?” “Yeah.” Silence ensued for a moment as Felix simply glanced at you, then to the floor, then back to you. “Married her, too, if the ring on his finger was anything to judge by,” you added, figuring if you were going to talk about this? You may as well get it all out. “Only thing that ring is gonna be good for is splitting my lip,” Felix said with a quiet, simmering anger, taking his shot before turning to look at you, “Nothing born of cheating is gonna last. He’ll be alone, and he’ll have no one to blame but himself.” “That’s what I tell myself, too,” you responded in kind, swallowing your soju just as he had moments ago, “But maybe I’m wrong. He’s married, and I don’t even believe in love.” “Because of him?” Felix asked quietly, carefully picking up the shot glasses and setting them near the sink, turning to face you as he leaned back on the counter. “Yeah. Because of him.”

Felix frowned, walking up to you and clapping his hands against your cheeks just hard enough to make you pay attention, though there was no sting. His stare looked intense, though not in the same way it did earlier at the gala. He looked angry then. Now he looked sad. “Don’t you dare give him that power,” Felix said sternly, his voice rumbling in his chest as he continued to hold your face, “He doesn’t deserve to have any influence over you or your life. Ever.” “Felix, it’s not that big of–” you began, wanting to assure him that it wasn’t something that needed tending to - at least not now. “Yes. It is.” He interrupted, lowering his hands and sighing softly, “I hate that he did that to you. I wish I’d punched him harder.” “Felix, really, I’m okay.” “No you’re not.” “I’ll be okay.” “I know.”

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the soft swishing of Felix’s hand through his hair, before he finally spoke. “I’m sorry I got so worked up,” he mumbled, still looking away, “I just…you’re important to me, and he hurt you and messed with your brain and–” “Felix, it’s okay,” it was your turn to interrupt now, and the softness of your own voice surprised you. “Thanks for telling me,” he said quietly, looking over at you with a sheepish little grin, the beginnings of the brightness you knew him for starting to return. “It’d be kind of unfair of me not to,” you conceded rather than accepting his gratitude, doing your best to return what you hoped was a semblance of a smile. “What? Why?” Felix asked, perplexion leading him into that all-too-familiar by now head tilt. “You’re trying to prove me wrong, right?” Felix nodded in response, to which you continued, “Shouldn’t you know why I hold my beliefs?” Felix paused, but then nodded, “I suppose so…but still. You didn’t have to tell me, y’know? But you did.” He was right. You didn’t have to tell Felix about San at all, let alone that you’d almost married him. You didn’t have to tell him that San was now getting to live the life that could’ve been yours if he’d stayed faithful. You didn’t have to, but… “I wanted to,” you said quietly, “I…haven’t really talked about it much.” “Will no one listen?” Felix asked innocently, now intent on understanding as much of you as you’d allow. “It’s not that, plenty of people asked.” “Why me?” That question gave you pause. Why Felix, of all people, to unload - albeit in very little detail - what happened with San to? You knew the answer.

Who else to tell but the man who made you a silly little mug that matters to you more than an award? Who else to tell but the man who left a date with his dream girl just to come find you and make sure you were alright? Who else to tell but the man who carried you to bed when you fell asleep in his truck? Who else to tell but the man who almost punched your best friend, and did punch your ex, simply because he wanted you safe? Felix was warm. He was sunlight, he was joy. He was security, dependable even though he might be a bit goofy at times. Felix was safe.

Who else would you tell if not Lee Felix? That was far too long of an answer to give the eagerly waiting man, however, so you settled for simply saying, “Because you’re you.”

And he smiled.

Felix smiling because of you was quickly becoming one of your favorite things, and when he rushed forward without warning to hug you? You realized his hugs may be one of them, too.

Hugging Felix was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after being out in the cold. Comfortable, easy, soothing.

Felix did not hold you too tightly, just enough to make sure you knew he had you, one of his hands absently rubbing your mid back. He smelled of the peach soju you’d shared earlier and remnants of his cologne, and he was warm. Not in the sense you usually saw him, but genuinely and truly warm. 

“You know what you need?” he posed his question with an eager smile as he pulled back from the hug, though you wished he hadn’t.

You don’t voice that, though, so instead you settled on a query of your own, “What’s that?” 

“Brownies.”

Of all the things to suggest, making brownies at midnight was not on the list of expectations from Felix.

Though at this point, it seemed, Felix had a habit of defying your expectations.

“Hand me the flour?”

You complied, pulling yourself from that train of thought to hand him the large bag of flour, to which he thanked you with that brilliant smile of his.

As you watched Felix expertly fold the batter into itself, you couldn’t help but wonder what else there was to him that you had yet to discover. As much as being taken aback by Felix wasn’t a problem, it also opened the door to an almost unhealthy level of curiosity to who he was when he wasn’t existing in your presence.

A curiosity you couldn’t quite identify the necessity for.

“How long have you been baking for?” you asked, rather than focusing on finding the root of your newfound interest in his life.

Felix paused in his stirring, setting the rubber spatula down to rest against the edge of the bowl as he hummed, answering after a brief moment of contemplation, “A few years, I think?” he began, sounding just as unsure of the answer as you would’ve been, “I started out trying to learn to impress a girl, but turns out she had a boyfriend.” You stifled the urge to roll your eyes; of course he would’ve learned in an attempt to find love. A so very Felix reason to pick up a hobby.

“I liked it, though,” he began, “Baking, that is…not that she had a boyfriend. That’d be weird,” he said with a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked back to the bowl of batter and added in some cocoa powder.

“What makes you like it so much?” you asked him, surprised by the interest you heard behind your own inquiry.

“Well,” he began with another smile as he blended the powder in the bowl, reaching for the chocolate chips to add into the sweet-smelling mixture, “It’s kind of cheesy…” he mumbled, setting the bowl aside to get a pan from beneath the stove.

“Hit me with it,” you said with a small laugh, watching as he poured the rich brown batter into the pan carefully.

“Okay…” he spoke hesitantly, opening the oven and sliding the tray in, “I like having a skill that makes people smile.”

That gave you pause.

While you hadn’t necessarily been wrong about the reason for his initial interest in the hobby being very true-to-form, something about knowing he’d continued because it made people happy struck you, as if there were no other reason that would make as much sense as that one did. Why you hadn’t expected it was beyond you, but you felt a warmth settling in your chest at the thought.

“To make people smile?” you inquired, to which he nodded.

“Yeah. Someone has a bad day? Baked goods. Celebrating? Baked goods. Friends coming over? Baked goods. They’re never really out of place, y’know? And they always make things better.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant but likely not as deeply as he felt it. The look on his face spoke leagues, he looked so proud of being able to do something that brought at least a bit of a bright point to someone’s day.

“That makes sense for you,” you answered him eventually, the corners of your lips turning upwards.

“Does it?” he countered, tilting his head as he picked up a towel to wipe any lingering brownie from his fingertips, “How do you figure?”

“Well, yeah,” you started, the words to say coming from your lips in an unplanned series of compliments that made Felix’s cheeks turn progressively darker shades of pink, “You’re selfless, Felix. You left a date to make sure I was okay, you remembered I like dumb novelty mugs, you’re always smiling and ready to help at a moment’s notice…so, yeah, I think it makes perfect sense that, even with a hobby, you want it to bring brightness into someone else’s life.”

Felix cleared his throat, a grin on his lips that he tried to hide by looking away bashfully, “Wow…I mean, thank you, I…” he trailed off, “I’m really not that great, though, y’know? I’m just…me.”

“Just you was the first person I felt safe sharing my past with San to, remember?” you countered immediately, an ache forming in your gut as you felt the self-deprecating nature of Felix’s comment about himself. You wondered if there were maybe something that had happened to him, just as something had happened to you, to plant such a seed of self doubt in his mind.

You wanted to find whatever it was and pluck it from his little blonde head.

“I guess you’re right…” he said quietly, looking up at you with a lopsided smile.

“No guessing about it, Felix. Just you is pretty great, remember that.” The seriousness with which you spoke those words to Felix surprised you, and apparently him as he paused for a moment with his lips slightly parted.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, still looking every part a flustered boy who hadn’t the slightest clue how to accept a compliment.

“Yeah,” you said back, equal sheepishness in your tone now that exactly what you’d said and how you’d said it registered with you. 

Time passed quietly, though not awkwardly after that conversation. Felix had busied himself by washing the mixing bowls and measuring cups while you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone. A sudden ping almost made you jump, the comfortable silence broken by a pop-up denoting a new message.

Dumb Squirrel: hey, minho and i just got back to our hotel!

Dumb Squirrel: how was the gala?

Dumb Squirrel: did you win?

You couldn’t help but smile, the startling dings becoming less jarring and more comforting as they continued to flood through. 

You: how’s Jeju?

You: I won, yeah.

You: The gala was…something.

Jisung’s reply came almost the second after you’d hit send, rendering switching back to scrolling socials a bit pointless as you tapped the drop-down.

Dumb Squirrel: “something”???

Dumb Squirrel: explain.

You sighed. Explaining this to Jisung may very well be as exhausting if not more than the actual events that had occurred. You could already guess that he’d react poorly, if not violently - not that Jisung could take a punch, let alone throw one. As tempting as lying was, this was your best friend…and you knew he’d find out eventually.

You: well…San was there.

The absolute flurry of texts you were then bombarded with were nothing short of the literary equivalent of a storm.

Dumb Squirrel: WHAT?!

Dumb Squirrel: what the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: W H Y the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: you didn’t call me why?

Dumb Squirrel: are you okay?

Dumb Squirrel: do you need me to come home?

You waited a moment, just to be sure he was done with his rapid-fire questions before responding.

You: I’m okay. He said it was to save me from embarrassment, but I don’t know if I believe that. I didn’t call because I was at the gala and you’re busy. You don’t need to come home.

You: Felix kinda saved me.

Jisung’s next text came in slower, a welcome relief from what was beginning to tempt you to turn off your ringer.

Dumb Squirrel: Felix showed?

Dumb Squirrel: I was hoping he would! thank god he did.That was…puzzling. Why had Jisung assumed Felix would come?

You: Did you have something to do with him showing up?

You: I swear if you gave him a guilt trip…

Dumb Squirrel: No, no, nothing like that. He just asked me what the gala was out of nowhere, so I told him. And he didn’t like that you were alone, and asked me if you’d have liked someone there.

Dumb Squirrel: all I did was tell him that yeah, you probably would.

You frowned, this made no sense…

You: How did he even know to ask about it? I never told him.

Dumb Squirrel: I don’t know, that’s a Felix question.

You: and you had NOTHING to do with it?

Dumb Squirrel: would I lie and pass up on being your knight in shining armor by association?

He had a point. Jisung would never pass up on an opportunity to boast about saving the day for you, even when it was something as simple as bringing you a coffee when you had a deadline coming up…there was no way he’d not admit to sending someone to accompany you at the gala.

“Hey, brownies are coming out!” Felix chimed happily from the kitchen, pink oven mitts on his hands bringing a fond look to your face.

You: Felix made me brownies, gotta go. Have fun with minho!

Dumb Squirrel: You’re still with him???

Dumb Squirrel: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Dumb Squirrel: details????

Dumb Squirrel: bitch????

You ignored the texts with a small exhale of a laugh before leaving your phone on the arm of the couch, joining Felix in the kitchen. 

The smell in the air was heavenly. Cocoa and a hint of coffee filling your lungs, replacing any thought you had other than just how good something with that rich of a smell would taste. Your mouth watered, and it took more effort than you’d care to admit in order to remember what you wanted to ask Felix.

“So, Jisung texted,” you began, hoping to maybe find a smooth way to ask without sounding accusatory. Simply asking straightforwardly how he knew about the gala felt a bit too brash, a bit too harsh for someone like Felix. 

Felix was gentle, so you would be gentle.

“Oh! What’d he have to say?” Felix asked happily while slicing the brownies carefully with a knife, taking a spatula and scooping two out of the pan and onto little plates adorned with pastel flowers along the edges.

“He and Minho are back to their hotel room,” you started, pressing your lips together as you wondered how exactly you’d tackle the elephant in the room that only you could see.

“Oh, that’s right, they’re on vacation, right?” he asked innocently, handing you a plate expectantly.

“Mhm, Jeju,” you said quietly, sitting down at the island counter with your brownie. Why was it so hard to just ask?

“Ooh! Pretty this time of year,” he noted, sitting one seat over from you and setting his own plate down, immediately taking a bite of the brownie with a pleased grumble from deep in his chest, “Try it!” he encouraged, covering his mouth with his hand so as not to show off the mouthful he had.

It was impossible not to, when his eyes sparkled while stared at you. The question could wait.

You lifted the still-warm brownie in your hand, taking a bite from the corner. As soon as it hit your tongue, the perfect mixture of crispy and gooey, you felt your eyes widen with an unintentional exclamation of, “Mmm!” leaving your lips, brows now sky high as you chewed, savoring it for everything it was.

It was more than just a brownie. It was a gift from a boy filled with sunshine - a boy who’d saved you tonight, despite your uncertainty as to how he’d known you’d needed saving in the first place. It was made specifically for you, by a boy who’d learned for someone else entirely.

The boy who liked to bake to make people happier baked these for you, to make you happier.

That was more important right now.

“These are amazing, Felix!” you complimented, lips upturned without you having the intention for them to be, to which he grinned right back.

“Really?” he chirped, straightening up as he accepted the praise, his fluffy hair bouncing around his head as he almost vibrated with the happiness that compliment gave him, “They’re my own recipe, I’m glad you like them!”

“I do!” you nodded before taking another bite, the flavor being perfect - not too sweet, hints of the bitter from the instant coffee powder he’d used in them, “You could sell these!”

Felix shook his head, “They lose their meaning then,” he said earnestly, “It’s not special anymore if just anyone can have them.”

That made your heart lurch in your chest.

You were not just anyone to Lee Felix.

“I guess I see your point,” you managed to speak, rather than pondering exactly what his explanation meant to you. The two of you ate in silence for a while, your brownie being nothing but a few crumbs on a plate when you remembered your original question.

“Felix?”

“Hmm?” he asked, picking up both of your plates and carrying them to the sink.

“How did you know where I was?” you asked him, feeling much more settled now that you’d had a moment of peace with him.

“Oh…” Felix trailed off, a breathless chuckle leaving him as he turned to face you, running a hand through his hair - something you’d learned he did often when nervous, “I think you sent me a picture on accident instead of Jisung.”

“Huh?” you asked him, reaching for your phone only to remember you’d left it on the couch. Felix quickly pulled his own out, saving you the effort, and opening your texts to show you the photo and the text that had mistakenly been sent to him.

He was right in the assumption the photo and message had been meant for Jisung, a dry humor to the ‘pray for me’ you’d attached once you’d arrived to the gala sending off pings in your head as you realized that the message hadn’t, in fact, made it to the intended recipient.

It was an accident, albeit a lucky one.

“And you came..?” you asked him, handing the phone back to him in an almost-daze. 

“Well, yeah. I asked Jisung what it was, and once I found out you were all alone at such an important thing for you, I couldn’t just leave you by yourself,” he mumbled, looking away shyly as if admitting his own kindness were difficult for him.

“But you were out with Ryujin,” you pointed out, though if anyone knew that it was Felix.

“I know…I told her I had an emergency with a friend, though, and she understood,” he said, waving a hand almost as though trying to shoo away your concerns.

“How did you even know it was an emergency? You didn’t even know about San,” you spoke quietly, sounding every bit as confused as you felt.

“I didn’t need to know about him to know that being there for you was important,” he shrugged, still downplaying just how big it had been to you.

“More important than a date with the girl you’re head over heels for?” you asked him, incredulous that - without knowing about the discomfort of an ex being there - Felix still found being there for you to be urgent.

“Sure, why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion as to how that was even a question, “I can reschedule a date, you can’t reschedule an award show.”

He…wasn’t wrong, no…but it felt almost foreign to have the show put on such a high pedestal. You had to beg San, back when you’d actually wanted him there, to come. A man you were supposed to marry basically needed to be dragged to it. And here was Felix…a friend who you’d made in the strangest of circumstances, who’d dropped something he’d wanted for months, unprompted, to support you.

It took everything you had not to cry - and Felix could tell.

“Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?” he asked, hurriedly making his way to your side and putting a hand on your shoulder - a warm, safe, comforting hand. The same hand on the same shoulder he’d comforted you with at the gala…

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” you trailed off, cursing the wetness you felt in your eyes as your cheeks grew hot, shaking your head as it felt like your throat grew tighter.

His hand squeezed your shoulder, but he didn’t speak. You didn’t need to look at him to know he held a furrow between his brows, concern written on every facet of his face.

“I just can’t believe you’d show up for me,” you finished your thought, your voice cracking as you managed to keep the tears from spilling down your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Felix said softly, moving his hand to your back to rub small, soothing circles there.

“Because I’m…me,” you said with a dry laugh, wiping your eyes on the back of your hands - they still smelled like the brownies, and it was strangely comforting.

“None of that,” Felix said with a frown, reaching behind him to grab a paper towel in case you’d need to wipe your eyes or blow your nose, “Just you is pretty great, too, y’know.”

He echoed the sentiment you’d given him earlier, though it felt almost uncanny to have reversed towards you now. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked up at him and nodded with a quiet sniffle.

“Yeah?” you managed to ask, your voice thick with emotion.

“I wouldn’t make you brownies if you weren’t.” His words were like an oath, his face devoid of any hint of humor as he nodded in return.

And you believed him. You believed that somehow, Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender, found just you to be enough. 

Enough to make his special recipe he saved for making others happy for. Enough to leave the girl he was hopelessly in love with alone at a bar. Enough to punch your ex in the face. Enough to carefully clean your face up. Enough to remember you collected, let alone to make a silly novelty mug for. Enough to carry you up to your apartment when you’d fallen asleep. Enough to care about.

Even after the threat of tears were gone for the time being, that thought would stick with you.

You were enough to be cared for, and that thought would surround you just as much as the scent of brownies and Felix’s shampoo as you fell asleep in his bed that night, his light snoring from the couch being the sweetest lullaby.

It was the best night’s sleep you’d had since San left, and the final thoughts in your head were that you certainly hoped Felix knew that he, too, was enough. More than enough. You hoped he knew that everything he’d done for you had given you a deep sense of peace, quieting those voices in the back of your mind that would whisper things into your ears to make you doubt yourself. You hoped he knew that his brownies made you happy. You hoped he knew that you’d always be grateful for just how much he’d done for you - not only in the last twenty-four hours, but since you’d met him.

You were already grateful, too, for the things he had yet to do, because there was no doubt in your mind that there would, in fact, be more he would do for you.

Not that you’d ever ask him. You wouldn’t have to. That was just Lee Felix.

[srorgana1]

Carnal Secrets

Rock Star Kylo Ren x Reader/Knights of Ren

Warnings: Alcohol/Drug use, Sexual Preferences/Fetishes, Explicit Sexual Content

A fun and spicy one shot from the Into the Reverb Universe which can be found here and on A03. Lemme know if you like with a like or kudos. I hope you enjoy 🥰

A huge thanks to my beautiful friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman for dealing with my crazy ideas ❤️❤️

Loud raucous laughter reverberate off the walls and floor to ceiling windows of the hotel suite as you exit your and Kylo’s bedroom. It felt so good to get out of your leather pants and heels, your feet sore and throbbing from dancing around for the last 3 hours. The whole group had tumbled into the suite after a fun night at the Horizons/Rogue/Bitter Harvest show, still hyped up and ready to continue the festivities.

You opt for a pair of sleep shorts and an over-sized KOR shirt. You tie up your hair in a top knot, your face squeaky clean and free of makeup. “C’mon YN! The beer is waiting!” Vic yells to you playfully. 

You roll your eyes as you see all of them lounging on the large sofa and adjacent chairs and loungers. The large coffee table in the middle is covered with various takeout boxes, beer and liquor bottles and the occasional finished roach. 

“Well it sounds like you started without me. You didn't eat all my poppers right?” you say with a smile as you settle in next to a relaxed semi-reclining Kylo. His arm wraps around your side, his thick tattooed fingers tracing light patterns across your covered skin. 

“No promises” he says with a wink, popping one of your mac and cheese bites into his mouth. You glare at him as Kylo sits up and grabs you a cold beer. “You bitch” you snark, taking a sip. “That he is” Poe retorts lazily, giggling to himself as he downs last of his beer.

“Oh fuck you man” Vic says with a laugh. His hair was still wild from the show, sticking up all over. He was still only wearing his hoodie on his upper half, his shirt lost to the madness of the pit. His hooded eyes and flushed cheeks are proof enough that he was already quite inebriated. You were happy to see everyone enjoying themselves, being able to let loose like this. It has far been too long.

Kylo settles back, pulling you closer. You snuggle into his warmth as he turns and kisses the top of your head. “Actually speaking of that” Poe says with a glint in his eye “how's your kinky little Drummer boy?” Vic blushes deeply, taking a swig of his beer. “Oh don't be bashful Viccy” he laughs “I heard you two enough last last tour. You two still into degradation and cock rings?”

Kylo chuckles along with a couple others, watching and enjoying the good hearted ribbing Poe was throwing at Vic. “Hey don't knock it ‘til you try it” Vic retorts with a smile “we just click you know, and it was hands down the best sex I have ever had.” 

Poe’s eyebrows dance playfully as he smiles. “No judging man, just don't peg you as into that.” “If you're so good at reading people Poe, then what’s my kink?” Cardo pipes up, a fresh jay in his hands. Poe smirk turns cunning as his hand rubs his chin like a super villain. 

“Okay, how about this. I’ll take a guess and if I call you out, you gotta drink” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh fuck me” Kurak mumbles under his breath. You stuff the last mac and cheese bite into your mouth, nodding along with the others. 

“Okay…” he slurs, his wicked eyes scanning the room “first one will be easy. Tattoo kink.” Not surprisingly everyone takes a drink. Kylo’s hand moves to your tattooed thigh, squeezing it gently. He was over the moon when you finally got the piece you had been wanting. He helped Finn design it. It revved him up to worship your ink just as much as his did to you. 

You turn to him and give him a quick kiss on his neck, right on one of those beautiful tattooed lines. “Okay, something a bit harder than. How about BDSM?” Poe says with a smirk. “Oh fuck you man” Kurak exclaims loudly. Kylo barks out a loud laugh along with some of the others. You shift and look at him quizzically.

“Oh fuck I forgot about that, good call Poe” Kylo says, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Soo this fucker had never been to a BDSM club and naturally when Poe was in town, that’s where he wanted to go” Kylo says, giving a look between a snickering Poe and a red faced Kurak. You couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the alcohol.  

“Hey, we all know Nyx is the best one within a hundred miles of here. If I’m in LA, I gotta get a fix” Poe says as he leans back on his plush chair. Kylo nods and continues. “So we go out, get trashed and head there and of course it’s a madhouse. Kurak could not stop staring at everything. We finally got to our seats in front of one of the female Doms during her performance. Let’s just say it was a once in a lifetime experience for him.”

A series of laughs bubble up, most loudly by Kurak. “You’re right bro, it was legit the hottest fucking thing I have ever experienced” Kurak says with a sigh “I even ended up buying a membership that very night.” “You did?! That’s hilarious! But fuck yeah I gotta agree with you there” Poe says “I would fucking sub for her and her counterpart any time, anywhere.”

You smile widely, laughing and enjoying the fun. It was good for them to be open with each other like this. The conversation continues as you finish your beer. You place the bottle onto the table and stand to grab another out of the bucket. You squeal when Kylo grabs your hips, pulling you roughly into his lap. He growls into your neck, leaving light kisses as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Fucking love birds I swear. But I think I’m definitely feeling there’s some size kinks around here” Poe says slyly, giving you a wink. You can hear and feel Kylo’s chest shake with his deep chuckle as he wraps around you more. Your eyes flutter shut, absolutely loving when he does this to you. Keeping you safe with his big body, making you feel so small and precious. You feel him nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, leaving a light kiss. “Safe to say that’s a yes” Cardo says dryly, finally lighting the jay and passing it to Vic. Vic shakes his head in agreement, taking a rip.

You open your eyes and promptly take a drink of your beer, feeling embarrassed at your immediate reaction to Kylo in front of everyone. He seems to notice as he keeps you close to him, whispering his love for you into your ear. You turn and give him a soft smile, silently thanking him for his support. 

Poe thankfully changes the subject. “You know what’s always a fav” Poe says, his words slurring more now “hair pulling”. “Fuck yes” you and Vic yell simultaneously, falling into hysterics. You clink your beer with him and take big drinks. You hear Kylo grumble his agreement into your neck. “Drink up Ky, we all know you love it. Her fingers are in your hair all the fucking time” Usher says, rubbing his bald head giving him a laugh.

The game continues on as everyone gets drunker, discussing a myriad of topics. Bondage. Masks. Piercings. Age gap. Breeding. Body parts. Leather. Different situations and scenarios. With lots of laughter and gentle teasing, you learn a lot about the people who you now consider your closest friends.  

Things like that Trudgen was currently dating a transgender female and that Cardo is into cougars and had dated someone twenty years his senior. Usher surprisingly revealed that he was hot for Rae when she was pregnant and low key wants to knock her up so he can see her pregnant again. 

You laugh, wondering in your inebriated mind if that would be happening sooner than later. You know how much Rae thinks of Usher. The man stepped up in place of Kurak and became an excellent father figure to Kayla. Yes, you can definitely see them eventually getting together and having lots and lots of babies.

A very drunk Poe stands and proudly announces he is happily bisexual and really enjoys genital piercings. It was then under some intense jabbing, Kylo warily divulges he used to have one. Poe wiggles his eyebrows playfully at him, saying he would rock it well. Kylo rolls his eyes and promptly shuts him up by throwing one of the pillows at him.

You turn to see Vic’s eyes on you, full of mirth. Fuck. “I’m thinking another thing around here is hands and breath play” he says coyly, passing the jay off. A chorus of responses happens at once. “Fuck yes” Trudgen growls “fucking love when they beg for it.” 

You can feel Kylo smirk where his head is leaning on yours. Your breath hitches when his large tatted hand wraps around your neck. You shiver when he squeezes lightly. “Damn Ky, you bold” Poe laughs, tipping his beer towards him. “Damn right and she loves it” he says lowly, kissing your temple as he releases you. You smirk as you rub your ass against his growing erection behind you, making him groan. 

“Yeah we get it you two are horny little fuck rabbits, don’t need to be rubbing it in us single people’s faces” Kurak says as he takes a bite of pizza. “Takes one to know one” Kylo murmurs, taking a sip of his beer. The group cackles at the sound of Kurak’s choked wheeze. 

You stay in Kylo’s lap for the rest of the night, the group becoming more and more intoxicated. The hype from the show begins to wear off, leaving you to doze off and on. You can tell he doesn’t mind, his fingers gently caressing your curves, lulling tou more to sleep. Around 4am Poe calls it, stumbling towards his room. As the others clean up some, Kylo kisses you awake as he hefts you into his arms. 

“Did you have fun baby girl?” he asks, giving you a soft kiss as he rounds the couch. You hum and nuzzle into him. “Kylo?” you murmur. “Yeah babe?” he responds as he shifts you in his arms so he can open the door. “What piercing did you have?” He stops and stares at you, a slow smirk forming on handsome face.

“Does my baby girl want me to get it redone so she can enjoy it?” he says lowly into your lips. You shrug, returning his light and teasing kisses. “Never experienced that before, could be interesting. But I definitely think you should'' you say, unable to hold in your drunken giggles. “Ugh damn it Y/N, you are legit going to kill me” he whines dramatically, shutting the door behind him.

Come enjoy the whole collection here

[nerdieforpedro]

Scarlet Stains and their Echoes

Part of “Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” Collection

Joel Miller and Celeste (plus size OFC)

This fic and my blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2k

Warnings: PTSD, mention of death, mention of murder, fire use (a type of weapon), very heavy on the angst, one character has a mental breakdown, very bad jokes

Summary: The memories of how she came to Jackson haunt Celeste. Joel takes her out of the rain and enters her home.

Notes: Not sure why I’m writing so much angst as of late. I came home earlier this week and wrote this. 👀 I really meant for this to be fluff and for a challenge I was working on. My bad. 🫣 Celeste’s memories are in italics and her speech is in pink.

There's a little fluff at the end. 🥹

Main Masterlist/ Joel Miller Masterlist/ Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff Collection

“I don’t see why I would listen to you, that last call was bad, and you know it.”

“It was good. You’re the dumbass who went too far out and drew two here. We killed them but now there’s less ammo and we need to figure out how to get rid of the bodies. All for some…never mind.”

“Say it. I know you want to.”

“You doomed us for tail you bastard. If any of the people with us turn-“

“She part of the group now and will pull her weight. We’ll be fine. You’re paranoid as always.”

“I’ve lived this long by being so. You may want to start.”

Exposed feet make their way slowly along the dirt street if that’s what one would call it. “Shaa…Shaa…lala….shaa��” Rocking side to side, the ground sloshes underneath her feet. She stumbles stepping into a deep puddle but laughs as she sees it. Sees all of them.

“I know deep down you’re happy aren’t you? You get to be fucking right again. You always have to be right dammit…”

“This is the worst thing to be right about. There’s nothing to do but try and get out.”

“We traveled with them. Hunted and ate with them, we can’t just-“

“Put up or shut up. This is your mess we have to try and clean up. Supposing all of us aren’t all infected and just slow to turn. You were man enough to chase that ass, you better buck up find that same backbone when you told me I was paranoid.”

“We’re shit out of luck aren’t we?”

“There’s no motor or paddles on this boat and there’s a gaping hole in it. We’ll figure it out or die. Our only options Ron.”

The street is oddly lit from the moonlight peeking in small breaks of the clouds. Despite the flashes of brightness, the sky is still pouring down. Crying with her as she walks, hands waving in circles, holding a small fuchsia primrose. The memories are usually pushed away, in a place that isn’t touched within her. Any skirmishes occurring on patrol with clickers, raiders or smugglers weren’t enough to have those dangerous ruminations return.

The one raider she’d shot because he’d had a gun trained on Joel’s back – he looked like Ron.

All day, since looting their supplies and reporting back, she been able to distract herself from the nagging thought. It ate at her, inch by inch until after getting ready for bed, it struck. Thankfully she lives in a small house alone, so no one heard the wailing that slowed to sobs. Getting up and pacing, nor finally opening that bottle of whiskey Tommy gave her and drinking half of it made her numb. It needed to be gone, the pain, the evocation of these associations.

“You’ve got to use them.”

“I’m going to blow the place to hell if I do that! You idiot!”

“Celeste, I was bit. It’s only a matter of time. I’m sorry I was a horny asshole. Everyone is-“

“There might be some people left, we can save them and get out of here!”

“Put up or shut up Lace. This can’t spread out of here…”

“You’re leaving me with the shit job again Ron, damn.”

“Kinda my thing? My bad.”

“Well, fine. I think I remember how to do it.”

“It’s lighting and tossing some bottles. They’re Molotov cocktails. Turns out fire’s cleansing too.”

“Cleansing and destructive. I’ve got it Ronald.”

“I know you do Celeste.”

Can they be erased? Washed away by the rain? It’s supposed to be cleansing and healing, right? Like that night, it was pouring outside when she sabotaged the building. Raindrops stained her face as she left with the supplies she’d gathered, making her way to Jackson – their group’s goal.

The only one who did. It rained the first night Celeste had arrived at Jackson too. It had long washed away the blood but never the smell. Charred clothes and skin.

“Damn cocktails and a leaky boat.”

Joel didn’t sleep unless exhausted. Elle was over a friend’s house from the makeshift school they had here in Jackson. At least there were some kids her age. Hopefully she minded her language while over there. He sits at his downstairs window, no lights, just nursing the one drink that he told himself he could have tonight. It had been one to his credit. He was hoping the steady heavy rain would have lulled him to sleep, but he’d already been upstairs awake in bed for a few hours. The ceiling would need some reinforcing by his estimate after looking at the thing so long.

Miller thought his drink was too strong, maybe he can’t handle his liquor anymore. His patrol partner was in the street, barefoot with that same flower he’d given her when she found out he had allergies in a damn apocalypse. She is wearing gray shorts and a t-shirt, nothing crazy for sleepwear. It doesn’t suit being out in a downpour at three in the morning. She appears to be talking to someone, but he doesn’t see anyone outside.

“Can’t be any good.” Leaving his drink, slips on his boots and makes his way outside after grabbing a blanket and an umbrella he was able to find on one scouting outing. Calling her name does nothing and even shaking her shoulder didn’t have any effect. Joel doesn’t like it, but he pulls her by the arm back to her home, he’s never been to it but knows what it looks like. Easy to find because the door is open. He closed it when they both were in and left her at the foyer to check the house. No one had come in thankfully, not that he expected anyone to, but it pays to be safe.

“Celeste, Celeste!” He holds her shoulders and continues to call her name. She is shaking but he’s not sure if it’s from being wet, cold or in whatever trance she was in. Joel knows that he is way out of his depth, but he doesn’t think leaving her alone is a good idea. She might end up outside again or do something else, he shudders at the thought.

Joel takes a step back from Celeste. This isn’t the woman he knows, not from patrol. He’d just recently started talking to her, mostly about the weather of what’s going on in Jackson, but it was something instead of their nearly silent patrols save for different commands given when avoiding danger or neutralizing threats. He appreciates that often she didn’t talk unless it was needed. Even her shock at his horrible puns he’d borrowed from Elle had grown on him. Who was this woman in front of him? So haunted with empty eyes filled with sorrow. The flower he’d given her had lost most of its petals and leaves.

“I broke it. I’m sorry. It was important. It meant something. All of it slips through my fingers.” Joel’s never heard her sound so vulnerable. She drops the flower and finally her eyes look like they have some focus. “Joel? What are you doing in my house? I was trying to…to…I’m soaked.” Her head turns toward the window where droplets cascade against the house’s frame and windows. “Did I go outside? Is that why you’re here?” Nodding, Joel lets her work out the rest and scans her living room for a blanket. There’s a small knitted one so he picks that one up off the couch as she follows him over and sits down. Draping it over her shoulders, it dips along her back and covers the tops of her thighs. “Thank you, Joel.”

“I’m your partner. I’ve got you. Just maybe don’t be out in the rain anymore. Ain’t good for ya.” Joel states, making her chuckle. Even now, he could make her laugh. The glimmers of days past are still lingering near the surface. He plops down next to her, his left knee touching her right one.

“I’m not talking about it. I am going to go change and then we’re splitting the last half of my bottle before you go home. As thanks and in case anyone else saw me, I can tell them I was drunk, and I’ll have the hangover to prove it.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh now. He understands the drive to burn, bide and bury the nagging demons that tear at your soul. Through meeting Elle and finding his brother again, it dawned on Joel to try and drown those dark impulses with better experiences.

They’ll never go away, never fully be gone.

“Ya took me away from the one glass I was gonna have so I’m owed.” He crossed his arms with a grin as Celeste went upstairs to take off her wet clothes. She put on her black pain of shorts and sleep t-shirt. She’d have to wash the other one later. Returning with the bottle after washing up, she brought her glass down and got a one for Joel. She returned to her seat next to him, but placed a towel down so her other sleep clothes wouldn’t get wet. “Fill ‘er up.” Miller clapped his hand around his glass as she poured his first and then hers. Once full, they clinked glasses and sipped in silence, he was worried that she might float far away again.

“It wasn’t from the drink. I think. Many other things. I’m not going to again, calm yourself Miller.” Joel sucked his teeth as he took another swallow of whiskey. It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he just knew would promise himself that he wouldn’t be so violent except when required. There’s always a small part of him that points in that direction, he avoids it, but all it takes is one time to fall back into old patterns. Today had been different, after defending themselves against the raiders, she’d been solemn, never happened with any other raiders or smugglers he’d taken down with her.

“Know one of them today? I take it they were important.”

“Didn’t know any of them. He just looked like an old friend. I thought I’d put it behind me Joel.”

“Celeste, none of this is behind any of us. It’s just kinda there and we act like it’s not. Just to function. Tonight was a bad night. We’re all entitled to them. Any adult who’s made it this far ain’t clean at all. We’re all just stained, nothing’s getting washed out. Not even with that stuff that guy used to yell on the TV about late at night.” Both partners laugh to relieve the tension in the air.

“I was with you until you mentioned the Oxy-Clean man Joel. You remember that, but nothing about the Spice Girls, BackStreet Boys, Boys II Men or N’Sync?”

“Not any of the songs you hum when you fill the canteens. Not a one” With his glass tipped all the way up, he finishes it and stands, not moving for a minute to keep his balance. Tommy had given her a strong whiskey.

“Here drinking my liquor and lying to me in my own house. Damn shame.” Putting her hands on her hips and standing next to Joel, she started toward the door, and he followed her this time. “Thanks again Joel. Dry off after you get in.”

With an affirmative grunt and the opening of Celeste’s door, Joel stood in the frame, he raised a hand, but chose to place it on the side of the frame before grasping her shoulder. “Take care Celeste.” Instead of returning the gesture, she placed her hand on top of his.

“Of course. Don’t get sick on my account.” They parted and Joel began a slow jog down the street to his house.

A deeper accord had been reached in their partnership.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

König HC’s ii

part one

Back in black bitches, hello again. CW: I make allusions to shooting an orangutan, but none are actually shot. Is that kind of day here at König Brainrot HQ.

Queer.

His name is Leopold Königsbacher bc I feel Leopold is a horrid name to saddle a gawky weird-ass little kid with, and it doesn’t get much better as an adult. Hates being called Leopold or Leo, someone called him Poldy once and he never talked to that person again, but he depending on the person, he will answer to Lee.

I personally see his face as looking something like Jeremy Allen White’s, but y’know. Significantly more roughed up.

Sub-point: he could honestly be any weird lookin’ white guy with creepy eyes, it doesn’t matter.

Unlike the data mined Ghost face reveal, which I love with all of my heart and keep in a locket on my neck, I can’t accept the data mined König face reveal bc it looks too much like dudes I grew up with. All I can think is, “That man has dip in his lip and a spit bottle in his shirt pocket.” Which is a shame bc it is a good face.

Callsigns as I understand them aren’t really supposed to be related to a person’s actual name, but they can be kind of mocking in nature. So I picture him getting König from his last name was intended for mockery and to degrade him. King of a pile of shit, basically.

Hyper aware of doing anything that could be seen as embarrassing by other people. Movements, weird vocal tics or flubs, how he’s standing, what he’s looking at. Breathing. Avoids doing it if he can, but if that’s impossible, he’ll do them aggressively, bc generally people will avoid someone aggro. When an asshole does something embarrassing assholeishly it becomes scary.

Crooked ears.

Just kinda crashing through life with half-assed ideas instead of plans. He was really banking on becoming a sniper, and that achieving it would suddenly kick some enlightenment and maturity into his ass thereby fixing him. Probably expected that he’d have a house, spouse, and fam by now in the alternate reality where he succeeded. Since he didn’t, he’s just sorta fuckin’ around in a holding pattern as a bachelor in a suburban rental he pays too much for.

Ambivalent towards cats. True neutral. Can take them or leave them.

Fuckin’ loves bears though. Loves a dumbass lookin’ sun bear and will chew your ear off with sun bear atrocity stories.

Also is a rat/ferret/lizard/snake dude. Tell me he has any distinct feelings on feeding pinkies to an albino morph ball python and I will assert that he is thinking, “Food für baby 😊”

Oh my god did everyone else know that emojis could get smalled? Am I the last person to find this out?

I’m giving him this one from me too: he will shoot an orangutan on sight. Hates them. Creep him out hardcore. All other primates are good to go, but orangutans are born destined to rot hell.

Starcraft player, former disgusting League of Legends player. S.T.A.L.K.E.R., Metro, and CS:GO aficionado. VTMB and Fallout 1, 2, and New Vegas lover.

Doesn’t fuck with alcohol or alcoholics, but had/has a binge drinking problem - the duality of man. LOOOOVES uppers though, and doesn’t know that Battle Rage is just Military Meth, he’s somewhat strung out on it when he doesnt take leave as often as he should.

Buys shoes and clothes in bulk when he finds them in his size. Has 3 sets of tennis shoes in the back of his closet and 6 pairs of hiking boots/regular boots for KorTac work.

My lunch is getting cold, love you, bye.

[kingsofeverything]

Hi! Larry on a boat sounds really fun! I could use a good lunchtime read, thanks so much for offering these! We always appreciate all of you authors for sharing your AMAZING stories, but especially now, let’s sprinkle some additional appreciation on top! 🥰

omgggg this is my 3rd try posting this. i checked and it's within the character limit for tumblr, but the app kept shutting down. so now i'm on my laptop. ANYWAY. so this was a wip that i really wanted to make happen, but it hasn't worked out for me. i started it when the pandemic first started. louis is self-isolating on a boat (inspired by someone who did that here!) and i think he's older/silver foxy in this version. there's another (lost) version where they're exes.

thank you! i hope you like it!

“It’s such bullshit, man,” Niall says, pushing the sopping wet mop around on the floor behind the bar. It’s more effort than he usually makes and the smell of bleach is strong. “Can’t believe we still have to work.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got rent due.” Harry downs his shot of tequila and pats his pocket. “Smoke?”

“Weed?” Niall asks, and when Harry nods, Niall does too. “Let me finish my register and shit. Have a beer while you wait.”

Harry winds up having two and a half beers before Niall is finished. They wash their hands in the kitchen, laughing because they’ve both had their hands in and out of bleach water all evening, sanitizing everything in the restaurant. They walk out with another waiter, splitting up in the parking lot. Down the road from the bar where they work are the docks where local fishermen sell their catch, and where many of them keep their boats. Very rarely are there people out there this late at night, even in the peak of summertime. With it being February, and with the plague or whatever, there definitely won’t be anyone around. 

“Think I’m gonna call out tomorrow,” Niall says.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, man. They can’t fire us. Or like, at the very least, they’ll hire us back.” It sounds almost sensible, but then Harry remembers that his electric bill is past due and his roommate paid him in weed again. 

“You make money tonight or something?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes.  

“I did alright. Three hundred.”

“Shit. I need to quit being a waiter and tend bar,” Harry says. He didn’t make a third of that tonight.

Niall parks as close as he can, and they walk to the end of the dock. “Oh, wow. Nice boat.”

“What is that, like… Is that considered a yacht?” Harry asks, squinting into the dark. It does look like one. A small one. It has a sail, so at least it’s a sailboat. Probably. 

Carefully, Harry unfolds the piece of aluminum foil he hid in the dry storage room when he first got to the restaurant that afternoon. The joint is lumpy and loose because he was in a hurry, and already high when he rolled it, but it tears easily, right down the middle. Harry makes sure to pinch the paper tight, and twists the ends of both half-sized joints before handing one to Niall. 

“That boat’s anchoring? Anchored? Whatever. It’s so close, like, why didn’t they dock it?” Harry asks, exhaling through his nose. There’s no science to back it up, but his hypothesis is that he gets a better high that way. “Bet it’d be easy to steal, right? Just, like… Swim out to it, lower the sails, and let the wind take you.”

Niall snorts. And coughs. And coughs again. 

“You better be choking on smoke, man.” Harry digs in his pocket and pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer, holding it up until Niall opens his palm. 

Niall coughs again and laughs his wheezing high-laugh. “Nah, man, I was picturing you stealing a boat.”

“I could do it,” Harry insists. It does seem plausible. Wind. Waves. Sails. The desire to be free. However, there’s also the desire to not get arrested. Or like, die in a boating accident or something. It’s not like he knows how to sail. Still, the drama. It’s appealing. 

“Right,” Niall says. “I don’t even think you could swim out to it. It’s far. And then you’d have to climb on board, lower the sail—”

“Okay, so I probably couldn’t steal it. But I could swim out there. And get on board. There’s like, a ladder. I think. Steps, maybe? It’s not that far.” Maybe it’s the beer and weed, but he’s sure he could do it, and he doesn’t think he’ll drown. “Bet I can swim there and back in like, no time.”

Niall snorts and coughs, standing up from the dock and pointing out at the small yacht. “It’s pretty far out in the inlet. Like, that’s a fucking swim, man.”

“Still think I could do it,” Harry says, pinching the joint and holding it to his lips. 

“Give you half my tips if you do it,” Niall says, and Harry whips his head around. 

“Seriously?” He could really use the money. 

“You’re not gonna fucking drown, are you?”

Harry shrugs. “Probably not.”

“I don’t know, man.” Niall hums quietly, circling his hand in the air, leaving a trail of smoke. “That’s like, one of my biggest fears: dying doing something stupid while high.”

“Legitimate fear. Good one,” Harry says, patting his pockets. Maybe Niall will bet him to do something… easier. “You backing out? ’Cause I’m not.”

“No, no. Hundred fifty,” Niall says, and Harry has to rethink their friendship. “But like, can you take a life jacket?”

Harry scowls. “Where am I supposed to get one of those?”

Niall points at the line of boats along the dock.

“I’m not stealing a life jacket. Just, like… Can you keep up with my shit. Like my wallet and keys?” Harry asks, and Niall nods. 

“Yeah, man,” Niall says. 

“My phone too,” Harry says, handing it over. He kicks off his smelly work shoes and peels off his socks. It’ll be a nice, brisk swim. Probably isn’t even that cold. He walks to the edge of the dock and bends down, dipping his toe into the water. It’s certainly not warm. 

He can do this. He’s a strong swimmer. Was on the swim team when he was… Well, that was a long time ago. And he supposes it wasn’t so much a team as a group of moms trying to get their kids to burn off energy in a pool. Still. He kept the ribbons and participation medals. 

“Okay, give me an hour. If I’m not back, call like, the coast guard or something.” Harry nods once and strips out of his dirty uniform, kicking it into a pile with his socks and shoes. 

“An hour? I can’t sit here for an hour and like, worry about you drowning.”

“It won’t take me that long. Look,” Harry says, pointing a shaking finger at the boat. “It’s not that far. And if I don’t think I can swim back, I’ll… I’ll steal a lifejacket.”

Niall lifts his phone and says, “Okay. I’m going to record this.”

“Use my phone, man.” Harry grabs it from the pile of his things and tosses it to Niall. 

“Yeah, okay. And here…” Niall pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and hands Harry the bet money. 

Harry reaches for his wallet, but stops, standing and tucking the cash into his briefs. They’re tight enough that he doesn’t think he’ll lose the money in the water. He walks back to the end of the dock, and turns to face Niall. 

“Go ahead, Harry.” Niall holds up his phone, wheezing another laugh, and says, “Tell us what you’re about to do.”

“Swim to that boat and back. Niall gave me a hundred and fifty bucks,” Harry pats his dick through his underwear, and Niall snorts.

“He put the money under his dick,” Niall says, turning the phone around to film himself. “Like, he used his dick as a paper weight.”

“This is why we wash our hands, people,” Harry says, cupping himself. “Okay, okay, okay. Here goes!”

Toes curled around the edge of the wooden dock, Harry takes a few deep breaths, trying to gauge the distance to the boat, and then he dives. It’s remarkable what you remember. Swimming, though he hasn’t done it in years, feels similar to riding a bike in that way. Of course, his muscles aren’t used to the workout, and the movements don’t come as fluidly as they once did, but he’s also taller and stronger and, once he gets into a groove with his freestyle stroke, he is one hundred percent certain for the first time that he is not going to die while high and doing something stupid. Not tonight. His mom would be so pissed. 

Still, by the time he’s close enough to the boat to see that there is, in fact, a ladder similar to the ones in the pool he used to swim in, he’s exhausted. He can make it back to the dock, but only after a rest. 

Waves rock the boat, making it harder to hold on to the ladder, but Harry gets his footing and climbs up, water running off of his body onto the boat deck. The air is colder than he remembers, and his nipples pebble instantly. 

One hand on the ladder to steady himself, Harry turns around and waves at Niall. When Niall waves back, Harry gives him two thumbs up, which he hopes are visible on camera, and looks around. 

Turns out that yachts are pretty boring. At least the visible parts. The cold water sobered Harry the second he surfaced and took his first breath, and after swimming for so long, he’s now sober, exhausted, hungry, and shivering. And whatever’s interesting about the boat is probably locked up behind the two small doors that Harry hopes lead to some sort of room below. Though, he supposes there could be an engine or something in there. While he’s on board, he might as well find out. 

Harry reaches for the doors to see if he can feel any handles or latches, though it’s difficult to tell what’s what in the moonlight. The doors swing open towards Harry, and he screams, stumbling backwards into the table that he just carefully avoided banging his hip on, and he falls sideways, crashing into the edge of the cushioned bench, and landing in a twisted tangle of limbs.

Niall coughs, and Harry thinks he might’ve hit his head. 

A scratchy voice asks, “What the fuck?” 

“Niall?” Harry speaks to the stars in the sky, too stunned to move.

“Okay, what the fuck, Niall?” 

Funny. That doesn’t sound like Niall. Harry lets his head loll to the side and squints. 

“No, you’re not Niall,” Harry says decisively.

“No, I’m not Niall. I’m Louis.” The most beautiful man Harry’s ever seen rises up with a glowing golden light, and floats over him. He frowns, which makes Harry sad, and points at Harry, which makes him happy, and says, “You’re Niall.”

“No, I’m Harry.” He’s almost positive. 

“Okay, Harry, then. What the fuck?” Louis coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. “Damn it.”

“Oh… Do you have the plague?” Harry asks. 

“Did you swim out here to ask me that?” 

“Uh… um…” Harry thinks about the truth, while Louis looks him up and down, and wonders what Louis would prefer to hear. Leaning in and holding Harry’s face in his hand, Louis moves Harry’s head side to side, peering intently into his eyes. Harry lets him because it seems like the thing to do, it’s not like he’s busy otherwise. Louis combs his fingers through Harry’s hair, close to his scalp, and Harry stares in wonder at the look of concern on Louis’ face. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Louis tips his head to the side. “Yeah, what?”

“Don’t know,” Harry says. “You touched my face. We’re not supposed to touch our faces and I think that includes, like, other people’s faces.”

“Shit,” Louis says, pulling back and standing up. 

“I’m in my underwear,” Harry says, because he is. He just realized that he’s laying on the deck, he supposes that’s what it’s called, in his tiny pink briefs and nothing else. His tiny pink briefs, a hundred a fifty dollars, and nothing else. 

Louis looks down at Harry’s crotch, nodding to confirm the fact, then looks up, holding his hand over his eyes as if to shade them from the moonlight. He turns back to Harry and asks, “Did you swim out here? There’s a guy on the dock, waving at me.”

“That’s Niall,” Harry says.

“Oh, that’s Niall,” Louis says, waving at Niall. Maybe it’s the moonlight or maybe he hit his head, but it’s the most graceful wave he’s ever seen. Louis scowls down at him. “You swam out here?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, pleased to know the answer.

“Why?” 

Harry remembers that he has a body, that it’s mostly naked, and that Louis is looking at him. He reaches down and cups his cock. “Niall gave me a hundred and fifty dollars.”

“And you’re touching your dick because…”

“Because of the hundred and fifty dollars,” Harry says. Duh. “Duh.”

“Okay,” Louis says, dragging out the sound and scowling at him again. Harry wants to pout, but Louis holds out his hand, as if to help Harry up, so Harry grins at him instead. Lifting his hands in the air, Harry stretches his arms up until Louis grabs him by both wrists, and pulls. Because there isn’t much space, Harry doesn’t get all the way to his feet before Louis runs out of room and can’t back up any farther. But Harry manages to get his ass onto the bench seat, and figures he’s not likely to fall again. 

“Sorry I, um…” Harry rubs the back of his head where he hit it, and there’s a bump, but no blood when he checks his hand. “Sorry. We were just fucking around. Niall bet I couldn’t swim out here. I didn’t know anyone was on the boat.”

“Were you planning to swim back? Or did you think that far ahead?” Louis asks, dropping back down through the door that he came out of before. A moment later, he returns with a stack of folded towels. He drapes a towel over Harry’s head and wraps one around his shoulders. “Dry off. Warm up.”

“Thanks,” Harry says. It’s nice of Louis to be so hospitable. He very carefully bends over where he’s seated and wraps a towel around his hair, then tightens the one on his shoulders. “I can probably swim back in a little while.”

“You really think you can swim back?” 

“No, but I was hoping you’d offer to like, sail me up to the dock.”

“Not tonight,” Louis says. “In the morning. When I can see.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry checks beside him on the bench and, seeing nothing, lays down.

Louis snorts. “Come below deck. You might as well sleep in a bed. You’ve already been exposed.”

“Exposed?” Harry gasps, towel toppling off his head as he clutches his hand to his chest. “You have the plague!” 

“I don’t, but my boss does,” Louis says with a shrug. “So, you could, I guess? This is his boat, so…” 

“Great. Thanks,” Harry says, unwrapping the towel from his hair. 

“You swam out here, man,” Louis says, turning and climbing through the doors. Now that he’s not lying on the floor, Harry can see the steps that lead down into the space under the boat. Below deck or whatever. Louis calls from down there, “You can use my phone.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry tries to focus on the end of the dock and can see Niall still standing there, waiting. Carefully, Harry gets to his feet and makes his way over to the ladder, waving at him. Niall waves back and Harry points towards Louis, who he can see is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Probably worried that Harry will fall again. Harry drapes his towels over his shoulders, carefully climbing down, and Louis appears at the ready, should Harry be unable to handle three measly steps. It’s cute. Louis is cute. “Do you have any Tylenol?”

“I think, yeah. You hit your head, then?” 

Harry nods, and Louis reaches into a cabinet, which turns out to be a refrigerator, opening a bottle of water and handing it to Harry, who takes it, along with two Tylenol. 

“Here,” Louis says, unlocking his phone and placing it in Harry’s open palm. 

The only phone number Harry knows besides his mom’s is his own, which is convenient, since he left his phone with Niall. He climbs back up the step ladder and waves both arms to get Niall’s attention, hoping he’ll put it together and pick up. After his phone rings once, Harry waves again, phone in his hand so that maybe Niall will see it. When Niall jumps and claps, Harry laughs and holds the phone to his ear.

“Harry?” 

“Hey, man. Shit, I’m glad you answered.”

“Yeah, what the fuck is going on? Who’s that dude?”

“Louis,” Harry says, smiling at the sound. “It’s his boat. I fell and hit my head, but I’m okay. But also, I probably shouldn’t swim back. So Louis said he’ll take me in the morning, if you’ll come pick me up, but guess what?”

“What?” Niall obliges.

“I guess he’d quarantined himself out here or something. So I’m going to have to lock myself up in my room. Probably see if I can get tested. Will you bring me food? And maybe like a mask or something for me to wear while we’re in the car together? Oh, man, we share a bathroom…”

“Shit, man. Might as well stay on the boat,” Niall says.

“Well, fuck you too, Niall,” Harry says.

“Just sayin’ you might as well, but whatever. Yeah, I’ll come pick you up, but if you cough on me, I swear, Harry, I—”

“Thanks, man. Love you,” Harry says. “I guess I’ll call you when I’m about to head towards the dock.”

“Okay, Harry. Be careful,” Niall says, and hangs up. Harry waves at him one more time, then climbs back below deck to face a worried Louis.

As Harry takes the last step, he hands Louis his phone, catching his toe and falling into Louis’ chest. He blushes, remembering again that he’s practically naked. “Oops.”

“Hi,” Louis says, steadying him with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Okay?”

“Wait a minute…” Harry narrows his eyes. “Come below deck. Is that some… some euphemism?”

“Euphemism?” Louis laughs, rolling his eyes. “No one’s having sex, Harry. There’s a guest cabin, so you’ll have your own berth.”

“Oh,” Harry says, unable to hide his disappointment. “Okay, thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Louis says, and Harry turns in place, away from the tiny kitchen, which he thinks probably has a specific nautical name, towards the other side of the stepladder. It reminds him of his grandparents’ camper. “Listen, um… Do you want something to sleep in? I have some—”

“Nah, I’m good,” Harry says, crawling onto the thin mattress and looking back over his shoulder. “Usually sleep naked, so I’d just take whatever it is off again.”

“Oh… Okay.” Louis nods, swallowing audibly. 

The bed in the guest cabin is made so neatly that Harry wonders if it’s ever been slept in, blankets tucked in so tight that it’s a bit of a struggle to pull them free, but he gets them loose and crawls underneath completely before wiggling out of his briefs. Sitting up, Harry shakes out his damp underwear and hangs them on a little hook that juts out of the wall, probably for someone’s glasses or hat. 

“Thanks, Louis, for like, not having me arrested.”

Louis laughs quietly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“Also, thank you for letting me sleep here, but not for possibly giving me the plague. I’m not thrilled about that,” Harry says.

Again, Louis shrugs. “Sorry. Goodnight, Harry.”

“’Night, Louis,” Harry says, but he doesn’t lie back down until Louis steps forward and pulls the thin door to the cabin closed. As soon as he does, Harry reaches under the blanket and pulls out a hundred and fifty dollars, tucking the rolled up bills inside the flap of his briefs. Imagine, swimming all that way for a bet, and then losing the money. Especially now that he’s going to have to pay to go to the doctor. 

It’s an odd night’s sleep on the water. Once, when Harry was a teenager, he spent the night on a waterbed, but this is nothing like that. Occasionally, he feels like he’s falling, and wakes up panicking for a few seconds until he remembers where he is. When the sun rises, Harry is finally getting to sleep, so he buries his face in the pillow and ignores it. Louis will wake him up when he’s ready to take him to the dock. 

————

“Harry,” Louis’ urgent voice cuts through his dream. “Did you fuck with the anchor or something last night?”

Rolling onto his back, Harry rubs his eyes. “What? No.”

“You didn’t pull it up or mess with it?”

“No,” Harry says, sitting up. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it must’ve come loose and we drifted or something, ’cause we’re not anchored off the inlet. There’s no dock, but we’re like, close to land, so…”

“Seriously? You don’t know where we are?” Harry asks, throwing back the blankets, and scooting to the end of the bed. 

“Can you?” Louis gestures to Harry’s crotch, and Harry smiles proudly. His dick is one of his favorite body parts; It’s nice when it’s appreciated by others. Still, he pulls on his pink briefs. 

“How can you not know where we are?” Harry stands, adjusting his semi, and Louis scoffs. “I just woke up.”

Louis ignores him and climbs out onto the deck, so Harry follows him up, looking around. The boat is just as close to the shore as it was from the dock, if not closer, and there’s marshland, which is somewhat familiar, but there are no docks or other boats. They must’ve floated into a preserved wildlife area or something. 

“I think we drifted north?” Louis slides aviator sunglasses over his eyes, and says. “My phone died, so I plugged it in. But we can probably check in a minute.”

“Oh,” Harry says, and watches Louis fiddle with something on the pedestal beside the steering wheel or helm or whatever it’s called.

“Shit. Seriously?” Louis smacks his hand against the wheel and slowly lowers his head down until he knocks his forehead on it. “The engine isn’t working.”

“Thought this was a sailboat,” Harry says, looking up at the empty mast. 

“Haha. It is, but boats like this have engines too, and that’s what I used. I don’t know a lot about sailing.”

“Me neither,” Harry says. “I don't know anything about it.”

“Okay, so, it’s fine. My phone’s probably charged enough now,” Louis says, going back below deck. This time Harry doesn’t follow, feeling sure that Louis will bring his phone out for a better signal. 

A few minutes later, Harry climbs down to find Louis sitting on the little sofa. 

“Nothing’s working. None of the outlets. The fridge. Lights. Nothing.”

“What… What do we do?” Harry asks, uselessly flipping a light switch. 

“Would Niall call someone? Like, if you don’t show up or call by a certain time?”

Harry nods. “He’s probably sleeping. Expecting me to call and wake him up.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “Okay, um… We have everything we need, like food and water and necessities. Hopefully Niall will call someone—”

“The Coast Guard,” Harry helpfully supplies. 

“Or anyone. But they’ll come find us.”

“How is nothing working?” Harry asks, following Louis below deck. 

“No clue,” Louis says, lying down on the little sofa. “Maybe we got struck by lightning.”

Staring at him, Harry drops onto the bench across from him. “It didn’t storm. It hasn’t rained at all. How’s that supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I’m not a weatherman.”

“Meteorologist.”

“Dude,” Louis says, turning his head to look right at him. “Shut up.”

Harry shuts up. 

Sweatpants would be nice. It’s not super cold. The weather is nice, actually, with clear skies and sun, and typically Harry’s pro-nudity, but Louis is wearing sweatpants. Dark grey ones. And they look comfy and warm and soft and they drape over Louis’ dick, drawing attention to it in a way that Harry can’t tell the intent. Which is why he wants sweatpants. Then he could lose the pink briefs, which dried stiffly overnight, and without underwear on, he knows he could draw Louis’ attention. 

“Remember when you offered me something to wear?” Harry sucks his lower lip between his teeth, ducking his chin and looking through his lashes. 

“Stop staring,” Louis says, and Harry’s mouth drops open. Not that he was being discreet, but he wasn’t expecting that response. “I have something. Hold on.”

Harry watches while Louis opens the door to his room, frowning at the oddly shaped bed. After a moment, during which only the curve of Louis’ ass is visible to Harry while the rest of him is hidden by the wall, Louis emerges with a wrinkled pair of cut off sweatpants. 

“They’re clean,” Louis says, shaking them out. “I didn’t think I’d be around people. So I just stuffed my clean laundry into a trash bag.”

“Okay, um, thank you,” Harry says, taking the shorts. “I keep my laundry in a basket.”

“I’m sure you do,” Louis says, stepping up into the sunlight. 

As soon as Louis is out of sight, Harry strips out of his briefs, tucking his money into the front, and hiding them under the edge of the mattress. The cut-off shorts are a much lighter grey than the pair of loosely fitting sweatpants Louis is wearing, and when Harry pulls them on, he finds they’re quite snug. He makes sure his dick is displayed in an aesthetically appealing, yet still properly lewd way, and ascends the stairs. 

“In a way, those are worse than your see-through pink bikini,” Louis says when he turns around. Even with his sunglasses on, he squints, and Harry wished he had a pair to protect his eyes. It’s bright out. 

“Those are briefs,” Harry says, looking down at the shadow his soft cock makes. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Piss over the side,” Louis says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “No way the head is working when nothing else is.”

“Gross.”

“Yes. It is,” Louis says. 

Harry holds onto the railing with one hand, standing at the top of the ladder he climbed the night before, and pushed his shorts down with his free hand. It takes him a minute to get past being gun shy, but the wind blows and he pees, laughing at the arc it makes before it hits the water. 

Dick tucked in, Harry carefully sits on the bench and lets himself look. The trees on the bank come right up to the water in places, curving over so that it’d be nearly impenetrable. No telling what’s on the other side either. 

“What if I, um… need to, um…” 

“If you can’t hold it,” Louis starts, pausing and looking at Harry over his sunglasses. “We’d have to… I guess we’d have to… We could inflate the dinghy, paddle it over there.” He points at the nearest bit of sand — a beach, Harry supposes, though it’s not much bigger than the sailboat — and says, “And if you’ve ever been camping…”

“Oh,” Harry says, cheeks turning pink. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, hopefully, Niall will wake up and call someone. Or maybe somebody will see us.”

“Who’s gonna see us? There’s no one around.”

“True. I don’t know… Maybe we should go to the end of the, um… the trees there.” Louis points in the opposite direction, and Harry turns to look, shading his eyes with his hands. It’s not far, but there’s no way Harry would swim it, and he doesn’t know how far he could paddle on an empty stomach. Without coffee. Or a bathroom. 

“Are you serious?” Harry asks instead. “What’s that gonna do?”

Louis lifts the bench across from Harry and says, “Flares. Maybe we’re closer to the inlet than we realize and someone will see.”

“Okay, yeah. That makes sense,” Harry says, imagining hours on the water, paddling and going mere inches. “Do you have a hat or something?”

“Yeah, we’ll be gone a while. Sunscreen’s probably a good idea. Shirts, too.” Louis leads the way below deck. “And coffee.”

They wind up eating cereal, and Harry borrows a white t-shirt, a pair of oversized yellow sunglasses that he doesn’t think belong to Louis, a Louisville snapback that he thinks does, and the rest of a bottle of sunscreen that’s two months past it’s expiration date. It’s enough for his nose. 

Louis climbs down first, into the dinghy, and Harry tosses the paddles to him. It’s reassuring watching him moving gracefully in the little boat, tucking a cooler in the back corner alongside the package of signal flares. Even if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he looks like it, and he thought to bring lunch. He helps Harry from the ladder to the dinghy, pointing to the other side. 

“Sit up there,” Louis says, tapping his paddle on the end of the seat up front. “I’ll steer from the back.”

Using his paddle, Louis pushes the dinghy away from the boat, and they start towards the edge of the trees. At first, they’re out of sync with each other, but they get it after a few minutes, paddling and coasting, paddling and coasting, while Louis keeps them heading in the right direction. It’s exhausting and they’ve barely started. 

“See that beach?” Louis points to a short stretch of sand with a fallen tree in the center. “Stopping there.”

“Okay,” Harry says, paddling as Louis steers them that way. 

They don’t talk much, except for Louis giving instructions occasionally to move them closer to the beach. They get there faster than Harry expected, and it’s much too early for lunch. As they approach the sand, the water clears some, and Harry watches crabs and fish darting away at the sight of the boat. There’s a splash, and Harry looks up to see Louis wading his way around to the front of the boat, holding onto the rope on the side and guiding it in. Harry puts his paddle beside Louis’, tucking the end under the seat so it won’t fall out.

“Sit,” Louis says as he passes Harry, reaching his hand down and circling his fingers around Harry’s ankle. Harry sits. And Louis pulls the boat through the shallow water to the beach. “Okay, you can jump off now. Help me get the boat onto the sand.”

Even in a few inches of water, the boat is wobbly and hard to move around in, but Harry quickly scoots to the side and throws his legs over, sliding down into the cold water and helping haul the boat ashore. They pull it all the way up into the sand, and Louis grabs the oars, tossing one to Harry. He reaches into the cooler and pulls out a roll of toilet paper, wrapping it around his hand and giving the wad of tissue to Harry.

“Take your paddle. You go that way,” Louis says, pointing at Harry, who takes a moment to figure out what’s going on. Louis jerks his thumb in the opposite direction. “I’ll go this way.”

“Okay…” Harry stands there, paddle in one hand, tissue in the other. “How will I know how far to go?”

Louis sighs, looking at the woods around the beach. It’s fairly dense, and neither of them have shoes on. “I’m just going to sing. I’ll sing, you sing, so we can judge how far away from each other we are. We go as far as we can, I guess, and then just… dig a hole. And, you know, bury it.”

“Okey dokey,” Harry says.

“Yeah…” Louis takes his sunglasses off and hangs them from the loose collar of his t-shirt, and says, “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine.”

“Oh!”

“Gotta gotta be down because I want it all,” Louis sings, raising his eyebrows and spinning on his heel. He walks towards the tree line, raising his voice as he goes. “It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?”

“It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss,” Harry sings back, walking the other way. 

Harry stumbles over vines and branches, singing his heart out, turning now and then to look back at the boat. When he can’t see the boat, which doesn’t take long considering how thick the growth is, he stops to listen. He can’t hear Louis, which means Louis hopefully can’t hear him. It is not the most embarrassing bathroom situation Harry’s ever been in, so he takes it all in stride, and he sings his way back to the beach and the boat, where Louis is waiting with hand sanitizer. A king among men.

They push the boat back into the water, climbing in once they’re deep enough, and paddling towards the edge of the trees. When they get there, the sun is high in the sky, and Harry’s arms are no longer his own. They’ve become extensions of his paddle. 

“Let’s get around the end here, then hopefully we’ll know which way to point the flare,” Louis says, paddling harder. Harry follows suit and they pass the last few trees on their left. 

The inlet where he first climbed onto the yacht leads to the ocean. Harry’s been out there before, and just past the trees at the end is a buoy and a marker and past that, you can see up and down the beach. Hotels and large houses that meet the dunes, and dunes that meet the sand. There’s a natural area nearby where trees grow right up to the beach, but on the other side of the much wider dunes there, is a parking lot. 

When they pass the last few trees on their left, they lift their paddles, and Harry looks left, then he looks right, then left again. The way the land curves along the water makes it difficult to see much, but there is no land visible across the water, and it looks like the ocean. He looks again, south he reckons, and turns to Louis. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Jesus,” Louis says, shading his eyes, even with sunglasses and a hat on. “I don’t see anything.”

“How far did we drift in… What? Six hours?” Harry shakes out his arms, then takes off his hat, combing his fingers through his sweaty, dirty hair. It’s so far back to the boat. The inflatable dinghy floats, no longer moving forward into the ocean, water lapping at the sides. Harry checks that his paddle is secure, and jumps overboard. Cold water touches every inch of his skin at once, making him forget which way is up, but he figures it out, kicking to the surface, gasping for air. 

“Harry!” Louis shouts, holding his paddle out for Harry to grab hold. “What the fuck?”

Harry lets go of the paddle and sinks into the water, swimming the rest of the distance to the dinghy. “Sorry. Was just hot and I was pissed off.”

“And wanted to drown yourself?” Louis asks, leaning down to grab hold of Harry’s t-shirt. “I’m gonna count to three, and you kick like you’re swimming hard.”

Harry nods, and Louis hooks his hands underneath both of Harry’s arms and, on the count of three, when Harry kicks his feet, Louis hauls him out of the water. He pulls Harry over the side and into the inflatable boat, rolling out of the way just in time, so that Harry lands beside him and not on top of him. 

“Holy shit,” Harry says, panting. “Sorry.”

“What the fuck?” Louis repeats, leaning over the side, cupping water in his hands, and splashing it on his face. 

“I wanted to go swimming,” Harry explains. 

“So you jumped overboard?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Clearly,” Louis says, sticking his paddle back in the water. “Let’s get back to the boat.”

Rather than try to explain further, Harry saves his energy for paddling. It probably wouldn’t make sense if he said it outloud anyway. The tide is rising as they paddle back, so the current carries them, making the trip easier than the first half. Still, when they reach the boat, and Louis grabs hold of the rope, Harry thinks he might not be able to climb the ladder, his arms are worn out. But Louis climbs up first, and his ass makes it easy for Harry to follow. 

“Now what?” Harry asks, flopping onto the bench as soon as he steps off the ladder. “Wait and hope someone finds us?”

Louis sits across from him, frowning. He takes off his hat and sunglasses, rubbing his eyes and combing his fingers through his messy, sweat damp hair. “I don’t know. I thought we’d see more than… I thought we’d see like, hotels or another boat or something.”

“Me too,” Harry says. Though they couldn’t really see much when they looked south. “Do you think we drifted north or south or like… out to sea?”

“North, man. The current flows north, and once we drifted out of the inlet, we would’ve just gone with it.” 

“I’m hungry,” Harry says, patting his empty stomach. “Time is it?”

“No clue, man. Sometime in the afternoon,” Louis says, pointing to the sun. He stands and waves for Harry to follow. “Come on. We should eat.”

Louis pulls everything out of the little refrigerator and freezer, and while he decides what needs to go, Harry makes them sandwiches. There’s more food than they’ll need, and once Harry’s stomach is full, he’s able to think a little more clearly. 

“So, we wait,” Harry says.

“I’m not paddling anywhere anytime soon,” Louis responds, squeezing his shoulder and shaking out his arms. 

“I don’t want to paddle anywhere ever again. Are you sure you can’t sail the boat?”

“I can sail the boat. I choose not to,” Louis says, climbing out onto the deck.

“What?” 

“I know a little bit,” Louis says when Harry follows. 

Not knowing anything at all about sailing, Harry figures it can’t be that hard. He climbs up on the bench and steps up on top of the boat, carefully walking to the mast and looking at the rolled up sail. “A little bit,” Harry says.

“My boss taught me some, but it makes me nervous, so I don’t do it.”

“It makes you nervous, so you don’t do it?” Harry asks, not quite believing him. “But you could, technically, sail us out of here, and like, just follow the coast until we get back home.”

“That or we could capsize and drown,” Louis says. 

“We have life jackets. We won’t drown.”

“Who’s coming to rescue us then?” 

Harry shrugs. “All I’m saying is I don’t want to be stuck here any longer than I have to.”

“In a hurry to self-isolate in your apartment?” Louis asks. 

“Ugh. I forgot about the plague.”

“Stop calling it that. The plague is a real thing.”

“Whatever. Just because you want to be all alone on a boat doesn’t mean I do.”

“Well, hopefully Niall will pull through, then.” Louis looks up at him and when Harry slaps his hand against the rolled up sail, Louis shakes his head and disappears back below deck. The door to his cabin is closed when Harry follows him to try to continue the conversation, and despite the fact that he can obviously hear Harry, Louis doesn’t respond to anything he says. Eventually, he gives up and goes back up top. They were out in the sun for so long, but his skin isn’t pink at all, so Harry takes off his shirt and rolls up his shorts, laying on the cushioned bench and falling asleep in the late afternoon. 

He wakes up stiff and sore and still tired, blinking up at Louis, who’s standing over him, surrounded by pink and purple light. 

“Ooh, pretty,” Harry says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. The sun is setting behind the trees and he’s awake just in time to watch it. 

Louis sits beside him, resting his arms on the back of the bench. “Forty-eight hours.”

“Huh?”

“I want to wait until it’s been forty-eight hours. Give them a chance to find us,” Louis says, scratching at his beard. He turns slightly, dropping his hands into his lap. “Not tomorrow, but the next morning. If we haven’t been rescued, I’ll try to sail south.”

“Okay, but no capsizing,” Harry says. 

Louis stills, shaking his head. “Have to wait and see.”

———

They are not rescued the following day. And they don’t talk about it. After breakfast, they paddle to the nearest beach and sing “Mr Brightside” at the top of their lungs while tromping through the trees in opposite directions. While Harry is using his paddle to push aside vines and brush on the way back to the beach, he sees something slithering past him in his peripheral vision. He screams, crashing through the trees and doesn’t stop until he’s waist deep in the water. 

From the shore beside the boat, Louis watches him curiously. “What’d you see?”

“Snake, I think!” Harry shivers and wraps his arms around himself. 

“Thought it might’ve been a bear,” Louis says, pushing the boat into the water and hopping on board. “This close to the water, it was probably an alligator or a water moccasin.”

Harry throws himself forward in the water, swimming as fast as he can towards the sound of Louis’ loud cackle. He’s able to push off of the sand and pull himself into the dinghy, though he lands even less gracefully than he did the day before when Louis hauled him out of the ocean. 

“Jesus, fuck. That scared the shit out of me,” Harry says, clambering to sit up. 

“Really?” Louis smirks, passing Harry’s paddle to him. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Poop jokes.”

“Timely poop jokes,” Louis says. “Paddle harder or the snake’ll catch us!”

Harry paddles harder, ignoring Louis’ laughter behind him. “I don’t care if you’re kidding. That was scary.”

“That’s why you have the paddle and your beautiful singing voice,” Louis says. 

“Bear and snake protection?” Harry scowls at Louis over his shoulder. 

“Better than nothing.”

The next morning, when they still have not been rescued, Harry sings so loudly that Louis laughs instead of singing along with him. He bangs his paddle against the trees, and doesn’t see any animals, but Louis manages to scare him anyway once he’s back in the boat and thinks he’s safe. They’re just getting out of the shallows, when Louis smacks his paddle on the surface of the water and yells, “Snake!”

Harry tries his hardest to give him the silent treatment, but Louis seems to enjoy it, humming to himself, and singing quietly while he moves around the boat. And he doesn’t know what he expected the process of getting ready to sail the boat to be like, but it happens much faster than he would’ve thought. There are a lot of ropes, and more than one sail, and many other things that Harry doesn’t know the name or the purpose of, but eventually Louis tells him to raise the anchor. And then he has to show him how to do it. 

The wind catches the sail, and whether or not he knows what he’s doing, Louis smoothly maneuvers them out onto the ocean heading south. It seems easiest to stay out of his way, so Harry does, and water flies past beneath them. They aren’t sailing long before Harry sees his first dolphin. It breaches the surface, swimming alongside the boat and playing in the wake. 

“Where the hell are we?” Harry asks the dolphin. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Louis says. 

“I was talking to the dolphin.”

“Ooh!” Louis looks over that side of the boat, and says, “Oh, wow…” 

Grinning, Harry looks again to find at least six or seven of them playing behind the boat. “So cool. I wonder how long they’ll stay with us.”

Louis shrugs, tightening some rope that Harry would ask the name of, but he doesn’t really care. The wind picks up as they move south, and Harry makes himself wait until he’s absolutely sure they’ve been going the same direction for at least an hour before saying something. 

“When do you think we’ll get there?” Harry asks, kicking his bare feet up onto the metal railing behind the bench and laying down. 

“Where?” Louis asks, frowning at him and sweeping his arm around in a half-circle. “We’re traveling at about five knots. I figure we’ve gone maybe ten or twelve miles.”

“Oh my god, why’s it so slow?” Harry whines, throwing his arm over his eyes. 

“It’s a small sailboat, Harry. Top speed is like, seven knots.”

“What does that mean?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis says, “Not fast enough for you, guaranteed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Craning his neck, Harry scowls at him until he answers. 

“Means you’re a spoiled brat,” Louis snaps. 

“Fuck you too.”

“I really, really don’t think so.”

“Lame,” Harry retorts. “And boring.”

Louis hums, ignoring him. When Harry opens his mouth to ask again because there’s still no sign of another boat or anything, Louis excitedly says, “Oh! You know what we didn’t try?”

“What?” Harry sits up, ready to do whatever it is. 

“You should ask your mom to come get you.”

“Clever,” Harry says, crossing his arms and leaning back to look up at the sky. 

They don’t speak to each other until Louis says, “Come hold us steady for a second.”

“No, no, no.” Harry shakes his head and his finger, just to be sure Louis understands he wants nothing to do with the actual operation of the boat. 

“Fine. Guess I can piss right here,” Louis says, looking pointedly at Harry, who’s sitting fairly close to him. “You’re into watersports, right?”

Harry stares at him, cheeks heating. Belatedly, he rushes out, “No!” 

While Louis snickers, Harry takes the WTFWHEEL and does his best to keep it from spinning out of his hand. As soon as Louis finishes, Harry pees off the back of the boat too. 

“Is the wind picking up?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Do me a favor?”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry says, “Depends.”

“Go below and, in the little cabinet under the bench, is a pair of binoculars.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry agreed, carefully climbing down the few steps. Right where Louis said they would be, Harry finds them, along with a box of books full of maps that he leaves alone. He climbs back on deck and, instead of handing the binoculars to Louis, he holds them to his eyes and adjusts the focus. “How far do these things see?”

“As far as your eyes do,” Louis answers shortly.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You should be able to see something about fifteen miles away like it’s right in front of you,” Louis says, reaching a hand out for the binoculars, but Harry doesn’t give them to him. 

“I can’t see shit.”

“Take the lens caps off.”

“I did. I mean, all I see is water and trees and some clouds.”

“Give them to me,” Louis insists, and Harry does, rolling his eyes as he sits back down on the bench. With his sunglasses perched on top of his head, Louis holds the binoculars to his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“Right? So weird,” Harry says, taking the binoculars back and looking again. The clouds ahead are much darker than the few wisps of white they’ve seen so far. “What do we do?”

Louis shrugs. “All we can do is keep going south. Eventually we’ll get home.”

“Yeah, but what if we don’t?” 

“What?”

“Like, what if this is some parallel universe,” Harry offers, letting his mind wander. “Like an unpopulated world.”

Snorting loudly, Louis shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Harry.”

“Do you think we should be sailing towards those clouds?” 

“I… Should we find a place to anchor? Not like we can check the weather, but the last time I looked, the forecast said the past few days were supposed to be cold and cloudy, not warm and sunny, and there weren’t any storms expected.”

“Dunno. Those look like storm clouds to me,” Harry says, pointing at them. “We could stop here. Maybe it’s going inland, and we can wait for it to pass.”

“Storms usually travel up the coast. We could go west. See if we can go around it. Or go north. Try to find a place to dock that way.”

“Go back the way we came?” Harry pouts. 

“I don't know, Harry! Would you rather go towards the dark, and what are, frankly, ominous clouds? You’re supposed to tie the fucking boat up during a storm, but I don’t see any docks. Do you?”

“Shit. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Harry gets to his feet, looking south through the binoculars and slowly turning east. The clouds—Louis is right, they are ominous looking—seem to go on forever. There’s no going around them. “What’s north of us?”

“No fucking clue, man.” Louis loosens the sail, and goes below deck, returning before Harry can follow with the box of books and maps. He hands the box to Harry, and folds a map out on the table, pointing to the familiar curve of the coast.  “Yeah. See? You swam to the boat here. And the only natural areas around are the few state parks, but even there they have buildings and shit. Like, you can tell people have been there. We’ve traveled for hours, probably close to twenty miles.”

“Wow,” Harry says, maybe he’s dreaming. 

While Louis turns the boat around, Harry sits, flipping through an old book of maps, full of expired coupons for restaurants and attractions. On one page, there’s a large picture of a cartoon owl that says ‘Give A Hoot! Don’t Pollute!’ And Harry frowns. 

“Have you seen any litter?” Harry asks, putting the book back in the box.

Louis looks over the side of the boat, as if fully expecting to see a plastic bottle floating by. Slowly, he says, “No.”

“You know what?” Harry snaps his fingers, and says, “I bet I knocked myself out when I hit my head and this is just a dream or a hallucination or something.”

“Yeah? What about me?” Louis rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the clouds behind them. 

Harry shrugs. “What about you?” 

“Why am I in your hallucination? I’d rather not be, so you could just hallucinate me out?”

“I can try,” Harry says, closing his eyes in concentration. While he’s at it, he pictures himself waking up, but neither thing has happened by the time he opens his eyes again. “Maybe if I go to sleep.”

“You do that. Because I might need your help in a little while, and I’d rather you get some rest.” Louis shoos him towards the doors and Harry goes below, curling up on his bed and falling asleep fast. 

————

“Up! Wake up, Harry!”

Harry sits up, rubbing his eyes and slowly realizing he’s still on the boat. “Still hallucinating.”

“Nope! Get up here and help me figure out what to do,” Louis orders, stepping up on deck before he finishes talking. 

And while it does still feel like it must be a dream or a hallucination, it feels real too. Harry joins Louis up top, looking south, frowning at the clouds in the distance. “Are they closer?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go faster,” Harry says. 

“I can’t go any faster.” Louis hands him the binoculars and says, “We can either keep following the coast and hope the storm turns west. We can find a place to anchor, tie the boat up as well as we can, and ride it out below deck. Or we could head east, out to sea.”

“This is like one of those choose your own adventure books,” Harry says, looking back at the storm. 

“I think our best bet is to keep going for now, and be on the lookout for a safe place to spend the storm.” 

“Then why didn’t you just do that?” 

“Because I didn’t want to just make the decision without talking to you. And I’ll need your help, no matter what we do.”

Harry scoffs, crossing his arms and cocking his hip to the side. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Depends. If we keep going? Use the binoculars to scout ahead for an inlet or somewhere we can tie up the boat,” Louis says, pointing to the binoculars in Harry’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

“Keep going. Obviously,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “We’re more likely to find a dock or something, right?”

“Sure,” Louis replies, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe they’ll find anything. 

Harry ignores him, looking through the binoculars at the coast, searching for someplace to park. Or whatever. They sail for a few hours, finding a few places that look promising until they get close and they don’t seem deep enough for the boat. 

“This sucks,” Harry says, dropping onto the bench. “We’re about to get rained on.”

“We’re about to get caught in a fucking hurricane,” Louis snaps, tightening one of the ropes.

“Are you serious?” Harry turns to look back at the storm. It just looks like a mass of dark grey clouds, but there are sheets of rain visible now. 

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s fucking huge. We have to find a place to hunker down.”

Sputtering a laugh, Harry says, “Hunker down.”

Louis stares at him for a moment, then snatches the binoculars from him, looking ahead between doing whatever else he does to the sails and the steering wheel. It probably has an official nautical name, but Harry doesn’t care enough to ask. Instead, he goes below, crawling into bed again. 

[cpanther]

K&K part 3

Konya stormed into his office. @ watched as he grabbed the coffee pot poured a cup and threw it back without so much as a grain of sugar. When he did it again before pulling out his pack @ knew something had happened. “Care to share?” He asked opening his bottom drawer where he kept the bottle of rye he often cracked open when one of the guys was having a bad day.

“Don’t bother with the glass.” Konya growled storming closer. He held out the mug he still held. “Just pour me a full one.” the rye wasn’t the best but then he didn’t want good tasting anything.

@ did as he was asked watching as Konya lifted it taking a large swallow and choked. “Need to do that a few times?”

“Maybe.” the other growled taking another one. By the time he finished his cigarette and the mug of rye he was able to speak without wanting to rip someones head off. “I just spent the better part of the day at with the police.”

This wasn’t that uncommon. “What about?”

“That fucking bullshit case they wanted us to handle.” He held the mug out. “Fill it again.” As the brown liquid flowed he pressed on. “I can trust what I’m going to say stays here?”

“You know it.” The dark elf half whispered. There was little his people could tell him which would cause him to tell another.

Konya sighed. He quickly outlined what his morning had been like. “Then I went back to the house and waited. Cops took their sweet time like normal. As soon as they ented the garage one of them suggested that the PI did it.”

@ blinked. “Did they? Why reason to think he had?”

“Boss they hadn’t seen the bodies yet. Why would you just to that conclusion?”

A good question. “You said the woman was in the kitchen? He could have seen it.”

“Maybe but I was in lead and we were still in the garage. I asked him why he thought a PI might kill someone. His guess not enough money.”

The other snorted. “They’d rather drop the case if their not paid enough. They don’t kill.” And @ had been around enough PI’s over his life as a bounty hunter to know that. “What do you think?”

“Set up.” It was that easy. “When I pressed him he finally admitted that he didn’t have a good reason but it had to be him, Fornshjiv was a well respected man of the community. He’d hired some new comer, it made sense.”

“Wait…I thought they didn’t know who he’d hired.”

Konya ducked his head. “You nailed it. Before I could ask how he knew who was hired another officer told him to shut it. Went inside, cops took one look and decided that the husband beat her. I pointed out the bruised were too large but they brushed it off said they tended to grow we couldn’t be sure what size hand was used just by the buries.”

That was a flat out lie. “Bullshit. It’s one of the first things they teach in police school.” he growled sounding more like a dragonkin than normal. “Tell me the sheriff arrived and put them all straight.”

“Nope, form there it just got worse. They left one team, or two cops to watch her, the rest went with me to the living room. They said some pretty stupid shit about how he might have surprised an invader or he caught the PI with his wife. One even suggested that the PI shot him adn then Fornshiv roughed his wife up.”

“Shot in him the chest?”

Konya nodded. “Yup, not only is that not a bullet wound but he’d have died pretty quick from the amount of blood on the floor and his clothes.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

True Love’s First Kiss

Alpha!Sam Winchester x omega!plus size reader

Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sam reunites with his first love from before he presented and is faced with the most important decision of his life

A/N: True mates can sense each other’s presence but their rut/heat will only start after their first kiss

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, claiming, smut, fluff, angst, John Winchester is an asshole, true mates, Bobby is alive, Sam POV, swearing, true mates, mentions of death and torture, breeding kink, pregnant reader, pregnancy, abusive parents (John), use of slurs like pussy and slut, consent kink (the best kink), unprotected sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool)

WC: 6.0k

Minors DNI

Sam Winchester has always been a romantic. He wasn’t really one for hookups or one night stands like his brother. He wanted to find his soul mate, his other half, his omega. For a long time, believed that Jess was his. He wanted to claim her but then she died. And as horrible it was to say out loud, or even think about, he didn’t feel his soul tear like other people have who have lost their mates, claimed or not. So somewhere out there was his perfect one. 

The Impala pulled into Bobby’s driveway, Sam immediately stepping out of the car with his duffle bag, sick of Dean’s music and constant stories about the girl he hooked up with the night before. The scream door creaked open. “Bobby! Where are you?” “Kitchen.” He grumbled. ”You got pie for us?” Dean barged in behind Sam, immediately headed to the kitchen and rifling through the cabinets. “Stop stealing my food you idjit! Y/N just bought all that today!” Bobby smacked the back of Dean’s head when it was low enough for him to reach. 

“Y/N? She sounds hot. She your girlfriend?” “She’s my nurse, and you’ll keep your knot away from her!” Dean lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, but why do you need a nurse, you seem to be getting around just fine.” He pointed to the wheelchair that Bobby had been forced back into. “I was shot in the head, dumbass.”

Sam was silent. Y/N. That name sounded really familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. “How are you holding up Bobby? You seem better.” “I’m fine. Y/N has been doing all the heavy lifting for me. She’s been a good friend.” He wheeled into the living room, grabbing a bottle on the way and taking a swig. “You’re starting the drinking early today old man.” “It’s water.”

Both boys stopped in their tracks. “Did you just say water?” “Y/N doesn’t want me drinking alcohol while I recover.” Dean leaned against the doorway, his green eyes narrowed on his adoptive father. “She has to be an alpha considering how well she’s put your balls in a vice.” Bobby sighed. “She’s an omega and you boys will respect her. She’s a hard working girl and she’s the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. She’ll be here again soon so please don’t make her quit.” He made eye contact with Dean the entire time. He threw his hands up. “Alright, fine! But if she comes onto me, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

💝💝💝💝💝

“Bobby! You here?” A melodic voice called through the house. Sam sat up straighter, he recognised the voice, it stirred something deep inside him. “We’re in the living room!” 

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed out, “I thought the name Y/N sounded familiar.” Sam turned in his seat and was met with someone he thought he would never see again. She was even more gorgeous than he remembered, h/c hair thrown out of her face, doe-like e/c eyes that he could get lost in, beautiful curves hidden behind some wrinkled scrubs and a winter coat with a scarf stuffed into the pocket.

“Sam?” Her voice shot through him, his knees felt like they would give up as he stood from the old couch. “Y/N.” She smiled widely, dropping the large canvas bag she was carrying on a side table before embracing the shorter of the brothers who had bolted from the couch to get to her first. “Hi Dean. How have you been?” “How have I been! Look at you, you’re not the nerdy little kid anymore! You’re stunning.” “It’s good to see you haven’t changed that much, Winchester.” Her laugh made Sam’s heart skip a beat. Dean stepped away and her arms opened again, an open invitation which Sam quickly took. 

She fit perfectly into his strong arms. He savoured the way her soft stomach and chest pressed into the hard planes of his own. Fuck, he had forgotten how warm she was. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon that used to be incredibly subtle, now overpowered his senses, making him dizzy. “It’s good to see you guys again. I was wondering whatever happened to you.” She pulled away and Sam nearly whined.

“How do you know each other?” Y/N stepped towards Bobby, giving his cheek a kiss before grabbing her bag and starting to pull out some things. “Y/N there was Sammy’s first girlfriend.” Dean guffawed, Sam smacked the back of his head. “It’s Sam and we were 8, I don’t think it really counts.” He slumped back down in his chair at the sound of her laugh. “Yep, we were going to get married when we were 8 and then we met again when Sam and I were what 13 or 14, right before either of us presented. Then they disappeared and I haven’t heard from them since.” She placed a book on Bobby’s lap before flitting away, picking up trash as she went. 

Dean watched as she walked into the kitchen, attempting to get a look at her ass but was only met with the book perviously on Bobby’s lap slamming into the side of his head. “Hey!” He rubbed his head. “Stop lookin’ at her like that.” Bobby growled. “How long have you been a nurse?” Sam called out. “Few years! But I’ve only been a personal nurse for Bobby when I’m not at the hospital.” “Got a mate?” Dean’s relaxed question made his little brother shoot up, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. He hadn’t seen a claiming mark at her throat while she was still wearing her jacket.

“Nope! Had a boyfriend for a while but he ‘couldn’t handle being with an omega’. He cheated on me with his beta best friend.” She pulled off the black coat and hung it on the hook by the front door, revealing an unmarred throat, Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “So you’ve never had an alpha?” “Boy, stop bein’ rude.” “Don’t worry Bobby, you and I both know that I can take care of myself.” He sighed and she gripped his shoulder fondly, handing him a slice of pie and a few pills, “You boys want any pie? I was just about to start up some dinner but Bobby always likes to have something sweet when he takes his meds.” Dean swung out of his seat and ran to the kitchen, Y/N trailing behind him, laughing loudly.

💝💝💝💝💝

“I should go out and buy you a ring right now! That was heavenly.” The older Winchester leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach. “You better watch out, I might just take you up on that offer. Any man that eats my food that fast must be in love.” Dean smiled dopey at her while Sam’s hands tightened into fists, a low growl forming in his chest. “I would but by the looks of it, Sammy would kill me.” The giant’s face went red. “Shut up Dean.” Y/N opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by her phone ringing. “Excuse me boys, I’ve got to take this.” She placed her hand on Sam’s strong shoulder, rubbing softly. “Y/L/N.” Her voice trailed off as she left.

“Jesus Sam just ask her out already.” “She doesn’t need someone like me in her life. We hunt monsters, Dean. That isn’t a life I can bring a mate and pups into, especially with her.” Sam stood from the table and went to his unofficial room, slamming the door behind him. 

“Why the hell is he so dramatic?” Dean took a pull of his beer. “You’re saying that like you aren’t.” “I’m not!” Bobby raised a brow. “Then why the hell did you propose marriage to that girl after she gave you a burger and pie?” “Cause that’s someone worth marrying!” The older man sighed. “Idjits.”

Sam was staring at the ceiling, his chest tight with the pounding of his heart. He rubbed his eyes furiously, as if that would stop the torrent of tears slipping from them. “Fuck.” 

It had been a rainy day. Sam was standing on the curb outside of the school, the rain washing away his tears. John had gone on another hunt, leaving the boys alone again. Dean made sure Sam got to school but he had skipped out, most likely working his anger out on the motel room. “Are you ok?” A little voice spoke up from beside him. He turned and saw a little girl, just a bit younger than himself. “Are you sad? I don’t like when people are sad.” She shuffled her feet nervously, the bright yellow rain boots she had on squeaking against the pavement. “I, I’m just waiting for my brother to come pick me up. But I think he’s late.” Sam avoided making eye contact with her. “Then I’ll wait with you.” She sat down beside him, holding her umbrella over his head. It was covered in pictures of ducks. 

“Do you like ducks?” She smiled widely, a weird feeling growing in Sam’s stomach, almost like butterflies. “Yeah! I love them! When I grow up, I want to have a farm with tons and tons of them! What’s your favourite animal?” “I like dogs.” A grin was growing on his own face. “That’s so cool! We should have a farm together! We could have 100 dogs and 100 ducks!” “Yeah! We could have a bunch of different types, it would be so cool.” They talked for hours, not even noticing when the rain stopped. 

At some point, she had taken his hand in her own, holding it tightly. “If we have a farm together we should get married.” Sam said firmly, she nodded in agreement. “Yeah! We should get married now!” “How do you get married?” They both paused for a moment before she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, making Sam blush. “There, now we’re married!” “If we’re married, shouldn’t I know your name?” “Oh right! I’m Y/N Y/L/N! It’s nice to meet you!” “I’m Sam Winchester.” He shook her hand and then kissed her own cheek. The smiles stretched wide across both their faces and they sat in silence, watching the sun start to set. 

“Sammy, let’s go!” Dean walked up to the pair, an angry purple bruise forming on his cheek, “Dad’s back.” Sam frowned. “I don’t want to go. I wanna stay here with Y/N.” He scoffed. “Is she your girlfriend?” “Yeah! And we just got married and we’re going to have a farm together with ducks and dogs!” She stood up in front of Sam, as if she were going to protect him. Dean sighed. “We’ll come back tomorrow.” “Promise?” Sam poked his head around Y/N. “Yes I promise.” Y/N hugged Sam tightly, giving him another kiss, before skipping off, leaving her umbrella in Sam’s grasp. They never came back.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” He grumbled. “Hey Sammy, I need to go for my shift at the hospital, I just wanted to say bye.” He stood up from the bed and wrapped her in another hug, making her sigh into his chest. Sam tucked his head into the crook of her neck. “I really did miss you Sam. All these years I wondered where you were, if you were happy. Please don’t leave without saying bye again, I couldn’t stand the heartbreak.” “I promise, I’ll keep in contact this time. I’ve missed you wife.” He chuckled, feeling heat creep up her neck. She held him tighter. “You do have a promise to keep Winchester. I’m still expecting that farm,” She kissed his temple gently, releasing him from her hold, “I have to go now, but Bobby has my number, he’ll give it to you ok.” “Yeah ok. I don’t know when we’re leaving again.” She nodded. “I have a short shift today but please let me know if you do leave before I’m done.”

The night was silent, the only sounds in the house was the occasional grunt from Dean as he tried to get comfy and Bobby’s continuous snores. Sam was gripping Y/N’s scarf and holding it to his face, inhaling the intoxicating scent that haunted him. He fell asleep clutching the fabric tightly with a smile on his face.

💝💝💝💝💝

“Dean, what's the point of my going to school if dad just wants us to hunt.” “Cause he said so Sammy.” “Yeah and you do everything dad says like the good little soldier you are. What about bringing that girl to the room last week while dad was hunting.” Sam was seething. “You’re going to school and that’s final. Suck it up.” Dean stomped his way to the car, Sam following after him but only after he had flipped his brother the bird behind his back.

Sam hated this, hated starting again in a new school. New bullies, new rules he had to follow. There wasn't any chance of him making friends in the short period of time they would be there. He slumped into the first seat he could, trying to make himself as small as possible, which was quite difficult considering his teenage body was starting to grow at an alarming rate. 

“Hey! Are you new?” A girl sat in the seat next to him, placing her bag on the ground. He noted that there was an embroidered duck on the front. “Yeah.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. There was silence for a beat and then a giggle. “Holy crap! Sam!” He looked up and was met with those bright e/c eyes. “Y/N?!” She reached across and pulled him into a hug. “Gosh where have you been! I thought I dreamt you up!” The faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon filled his nostrils. “Travelling, dad can’t stay for too long in one place because of his job.” “I guess we’ll just have to make the most of the time we do have!” The butterflies in Sam’s stomach felt as if they were about to take flight as she smiled at him.

The hunt was taking longer than expected, making both John and Dean antsy. They had stayed far too long in this small town and people were starting to talk. But Sam had never been happier. Him and Y/N spent every day together, exploring the town, sneaking pastries from her parents’ bakery. He constantly had a smile on his face, quite often he had an accompanying flush as well at the sight of her beauty. 

One day, the temperature had been unseasonably warm, so they took Y/N’s bike and rode out to the lake at the edge of town. They spent the whole day in the water and when the sun began to go down, they sat on the grass, holding each other’s hand. 

“You know Sam, you have the most beautiful eyes. They have so many different colours in them, it’s amazing. Your scent is like pine needles and smoke. Like a bonfire on a winter day.” He blushed. “I like your scent too, you smell like cinnamon rolls.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you think you’ll be an alpha? Mum seems to think I’ll be an omega.” Sam put his head on top of Y/N’s. “I think so, Dad and Dean are alphas so it would make sense that I’m one too.” 

“I would like to have a mate like you Sam. You would be the perfect alpha.” He smiled against her hair. “You would be the perfect omega. But why would we look for someone like each other when we could just be with each other?” “But you have to move away soon, I might never see you again!” Her scent had a slightly sour undertone. “We can run away together, be with each other when we present. Then we’ll go find that farm and be happy. Please Y/N, please say yes. I can’t be without you.” He was holding her smaller face in his hands, tears running down both their cheeks. “Where would we go though?” “Anywhere, you’re all I’ll ever need.” She gave a sad smile. “Yeah, let’s do it. Let’s run away Sam.”

She had pulled away from him slightly, their faces still very close together. Sam’s eyes flickered down to her lips and he leaned forward, slowly closing the gap between them.

“Sam!” An angry voice called out through the woods, making them freeze, lips only inches away. Heavy footfalls followed, as they grew closer he shoved the smaller girl behind his back. “Samuel Winchester.” The voice growled out, “You were supposed to be home hours ago, we’ve got to leave. Now.” “No dad, I’m not leaving this time, I’m staying with Y/N.” His voice got deeper, almost bordering on the voice of a full grown alpha. “It wasn’t a question boy.” John wrapped his large hand around Sam’s arm and pulled. 

“Let him go!” Y/N ran towards them, trying to pull Sam from his grip. “You stay the fuck away from my boy.” He pulled a pistol from the waistband of his pants. “No!” Sam screamed, trying to dive forward. The gun fired, pinging off Y/N’s bike, destroying the back tire and indenting the thin metal. Y/N collapsed to the ground, covering her ears from the blast. “Y/N!” His father shoved Sam in the beaten down truck.

The last thing Sam ever saw of her was Y/N reaching out for him as they drove away, tears leaking from her eyes as blood streamed from a cut on her cheek. “Sam!”

“Sam! Wake up!” He shot awake, cold sweat covering his whole body. “Come on dude! We’ve got a case!” “Coming!” He called back, trying to slow his racing heart. That moment had always haunted him for months. He had been so scared that something bad had happened to her after they left. “No son of mine is going to betray the family for pussy, especially for an omega slut.” John had told him that night when Sam screamed at him to go back and find her, to at least bring her home safely. He had refused, they left town within the hour.

The tall man stumbled out of bed, blindly gathering his things and stuffing them into his duffle bag, including Y/N’s scarf. He swung it over his shoulder and marched down the hall, Dean shoving a cup of coffee into his hands. “What’s the case?” 

As Dean threw their bags in the car, Sam approached his father. “Will you apologise to Y/N for us, that we couldn’t see each other again.” “Why don’t you take her number? She does still want to talk to you.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t. It would be better off for her if she stayed away from us, from me. We both know what happened to Jess. I can’t lose anyone else that I love.” Bobby looked at him sadly. “You deserve happiness, Sam.” He hugged the boy tight before shoving him towards the car. “Don’t die on me boys!” “No promises!” Dean yelled back, laughing as they drove away.

💝💝💝💝💝

Sam felt like he was dying. Dean was starting to get concerned about the huge dark circles beneath his eyes and gaunt look of his face. “Alright man what’s going on with you?” The older brother slammed his beer on the table in front of the giant. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Dean scoffed. “Don’t give me that. You’ve looked like shit for weeks now, basically since we left Bobby’s. Was it that hunt?” Sam shook his head. “Honestly man, I don’t know what’s happening. My chest hurts all the time. I can’t bring myself to get out of bed but I feel so tired.” Dean grabbed his jaw, moving it side to side. “I’m calling Castiel, you might’ve gotten hit by that witch.” He reached for his phone and called the angel.

“Sam is perfectly fine. No curses or hexes.” Cas moved his hand away from Sam’s forehead. “Then what’s going on?” “He’s healthy, there is nothing wrong with him. Were you aware he met his true mate?” “What! When?” “I would say eight weeks ago.” “Don’t tell me it was that fucking witch.” Dean sighed.

“Y/N. She’s my true mate. Cas, what will happen if I reject her?” “Both your souls will perish. If you stay away from her for too long, her heart will break and she’ll be sent into a heat that will kill her within a day. Then once she dies, you’ll go feral, also falling into a rut and dying. Neither of your souls will go to heaven.” Dean spoke up then. “You need to go back. You need to find Y/N.” “She wouldn’t understand, Dean! I can’t bring her into this life! I can’t tell her about what we do!”

“You don’t have to tell her. I already have.” Sam turned towards his brother, blank look on his face. “You what.” His voice shook slightly with fury. “I told her when I found her in those woods. I heard what happened with dad. While you two were fighting, I snuck out and found her. I cleaned her up and gave her a ride home. I told her everything. I had to. She’s a smart kid, knew what we did wasn’t legal so she threatened me until I told her what happened to you.” Sam slumped down, running a hand through his hair. “She loves you Sam, she wants what’s best for you and she would let herself die if that meant you could be happy. But I know you love her too. You need her, just like she needs you. We’ve all seen that scarf you stole from her and keep sleeping with” Sam flushed before retorting.

“It’s been months Dean, she probably forgot about me or is pissed off that I didn’t call. Even if I had a chance, do you really think Bobby would let me find her again considering how close they were and how heartbroken I must’ve left her. Besides, I don’t even have her number.” “Yes you do,” Dean pulled out a slip of paper from his wallet, “I found it when I was doing laundry, figured Bobby slipped it into your pocket when we left.” The paper simply said, Call her, you idjit. Sam took it and ran to his room.

He quickly typed in the digits and waited. “Come on, pick up.” The call rang out. He called again and again. He tried Bobby. “Yeah?” “Have you heard from Y/N? She isn’t answering my calls.” “Yah think it’s because she just doesn’t want to talk to you? You left without saying goodbye months ago.” “Dammit Bobby! She’s my true mate! If we stay away too long we’ll both die!” He was silent, then spoke up. “I’ll give you her address but don’t fuck this up.”

Sam had never driven so fast in his life. As he got closer to her, the weight on his heart seemed to lighten. He was his beacon in the dark, the light to guide his way. He wishes he ran away with her that night, he wishes he went back to her instead of going to Stanford. Maybe he could’ve avoided Lucifer, avoided the wrath of his father and brother, avoided all the death and destruction that seemed to follow him, like some kind of perverse shadow.

A pang in his chest broke him out of his trance, it felt like his heart was being ripped apart. His foot hit the floor, a cold sweat breaking out along his brow, he hoped he wasn’t too late.

The smell hit him first, her usual exhilarating scent now saturated with the sour smell of death. Sam acted on instinct, rushing into her room. Y/N was curled up in her nest, whimpering in pain. “Omega.” She stilled. “Alpha?” Her head popped up from behind a mound of blankets. He stepped forward cautiously. “Can I come into your nest little one?” She seemed confused for a moment before nodding and he clambered in. She clung to him.

“What’s happening to me, Sam? It hurts so much.” His hand cradled the back of her head. “We’re mates. I stayed away too long and it’s making you suffer.” She shook her head. “You can’t be, my mate died years ago, I felt it.” “I am your mate, Y/N. And I did die, a few times in fact but I’m alive now.” Her eyes were glassy, a fog settling in behind them. “Kiss me, Sam. Prove it.” He didn’t hesitate for a second.

Their lips fit together perfectly and something slid into place in Sam’s chest. The world seemed so much brighter, his mate’s scent, so much more crisp and clear. They separated, a shy smile coming over Y/N’s face. “I guess you are my soulmate.” Sam laughed loudly, pulling her to his chest and kissing her hair. She sighed against him, shutting her eyes and snuggling closer.

The pair enjoyed the peace. Savouring the feel of each other finally in each other’s arms, finally together. Y/N whined. “Are you ok?” “Yeah I think it’s my heat. But it wasn’t supposed to come for another month.” She rubbed her lower stomach, her eyebrows twisted in confusion. Sam himself was already starting to feel the effects of his rut. “Um well, that’s what happens when true mates accept each other. My rut is about to start too. A-are you ok with this? We don’t need to spend it together, I can leave.” She shook her head. “No, I want to spend my heat with you, alpha.” Sam preened at the use of his title. “Can I mark you, omega? Can I fill you with pups?” She nodded frantically. “I need words ‘mega.”

“Yes! Yes alpha! Wan’ all of it.” Her voice was starting to become slurred, a telltale sign of her heat about to break. Sam kissed her again, pushing her shoulder back so he was able to roll them both over and settle in between her legs. She rolled her hips into his, grinding perfectly against his bulge. Sam growled into her mouth.

“Fuck ‘mega. You’re so sexy, all mine.” His teeth grazed her mating gland. “Alpha please!” “What do you want, Y/N? You have to tell me or you won’t get it.” “Want your knot!” She was grinding furiously now, trying desperately to get friction against her throbbing clit.

Sam smirked. He could feel her heartbeat through her panties. The heat coming from her pussy was intoxicating. “Need to get you ready first.” Her panties were pulled aside and the alpha traced her slit with a single finger, gathering her slick and sticking it in his mouth, moaning at the taste. “Please, just want you in me. I’m not a virgin, Sam.” “Oh baby, but you’ve never had an alpha before, and you’ve never had a Winchester.” Sam stood, pulling open his jeans, dropping them to the floor. Y/N leaned back on the bed, mouth opening and closing, almost similar to a fish at the sight of his hard cock. “Holy fuck. Yep yes, need you to prep me, thank you very much.” He grabbed her ankles and dragged her to the end of the bed, immediately burying his face between her plump thighs. 

Y/N moaned loudly, fingers burying themselves in his hair and yanking him closer to her cunt. Sam groaned. “Do that again, omega.” She did as she was told. Sam’s pupil’s dilated, the black almost completely taking over the beautiful hazel. “I’m going to destroy you.” His voice was broken and deep, on the edge of his rut.

“Sam!” Her orgasm was building as he ravenously ate her out, switching from sucking hard on her clit to thrusting his tongue into her. He shifted slightly, bringing his long fingers up and sliding one into her. “Don’t you dare cum omega, you’ll only cum on my cock tonight.” Her eyes scrunched shut, trying desperately to stave off her release. 

Sam couldn’t stop watching her, the way her chest heaved, heavy breasts and stomach jiggling every time she moved. Her thighs molded to him, so soft and warm against his own hard thighs. He placed a large palm on her tummy, savouring her smooth skin. “This is where our pups will grow. You’ll keep them safe and healthy in this perfect stomach. I’m going to constantly keep you pregnant, keep you full of me.” “Yes alpha! Give me your pups!” “Soon ‘mega. Be patient.” 

He had worked a third finger into her, it was taking all his concentration not to let his alpha take over and just claim her. “Alpha please! Need to cum!” He growled. “Not yet.” He could feel her squeezing his fingers tightly, the fluttering of her walls signaling her end. He pulled out, Y/N whined loudly. “Enough of that, you’ll get to cum soon.” 

“Sam, please. I need you in me. Don’t make me wait anymore.” Her eyes were lined with tears of frustration. Sam smiled and kissed her gently. “I’ll be rough, I can’t hold off my rut.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Break me, Sam. Ruin me for everyone else.” “Fuck.”

That was all it took for the younger Winchester to let his alpha loose, immediately burying himself deep into his omega. She screamed, which only made him pause for a moment before his hips violently crashed against hers, almost definitely leaving bruises he would discover when the week was over. 

Her nails dragged down his back, biting into the flesh harshly. She couldn’t speak anymore, every thrust punched the air from her lungs. He grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his hips, letting him rest his entire body against hers, supporting his weight on one arm by her head while the other gripped her waist tightly. “So fucking beautiful. My gorgeous omega. You’re so perfect. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He mumbled into her neck. “Gonna cum!” Y/N rolled her hips up, meeting his thrusts and threw her head back in a long moan. “Cum for me, squeeze me tight.”

That was all it took for her to snap. Sam gasped as she clamped down, he could barely move inside her. “Claim me!” She cried out. Sam’s teeth sunk into her throat as she did the same for him. As their bond snapped into place, Sam’s knot popped and he shoved himself into her, filling her with warm cum. 

Their foreheads rested against each other, trying to catch their breath. Y/N giggled. “What is it?” “I never thought that little boy I saw sitting in the rain would have been my soul mate.” Sam chuckled. “I mean we did already get married when we were 8.” “I love you, Sam. I think I have since the lake.” “I love you too. You need some rest ‘mega, this is going to be a long week.” She kissed him softly, her eyes slowly shutting from exhaustion.

💝💝💝💝💝

The morning was silent. It seemed like the whole town was asleep as the snow lazily fell from the heavens. The smells of cinnamon rolls and a winter fire combined perfectly in the small apartment overlooking the town. Sam was finally content, his omega nestled in his arms, already full of his pups. He sighed, his nose resting on her head, inhaling the scent of the two of them. 

A phone rang in the other room, slightly disturbing Y/N’s slumber. “Shit.” He sighed, rolling her over slightly so he could get out of bed. She whined slightly, her brow furrowing before she grabbed his pillow and held it close to her chest. 

He grabbed the phone and made sure the bedroom door was shut before answering. “Yeah?” “Yeah? That’s all you answer with after you’ve been gone for a week and a half?!” “Hi Dean.” “Shut up. Where are you?” “I’m at Y/N’s place. We um…” “You fucked for a week I got it. But where is her house? Bobby won’t tell me.” “Why do you need to come here?” “We have to bring her shit back to the bunker obviously. Now that you two are ‘together’,” Sam could hear the air quotes Dean did, “She needs to be somewhere safe.” “We haven’t actually talked about where we’re going to live yet. I don’t want her to give up her life here. She’s worked so hard to get here.” “Well figure it out, cause anyone that hates you is going to go after her so she needs to be safe.” Dean hung up.

“Sam?” He looked up from the locked phone and saw Y/N standing in the doorway to the bedroom, bleary eyed and wearing his flannel, “Is everything ok?” “Yeah, yeah. It was nothing.” He strode up to her and pulled her into his arms, “It didn’t sound like nothing.” She mumbled into his chest. “Dean’s worried that you aren’t safe here. But I don’t want to move you out to Kansas. You’ve worked your ass off to become a nurse. And I don’t want to take you away from Bobby.” She huffed. “Really Sam? There are hospitals in Kansas and I think Bobby’s sick of me pinning over you anyway. If it makes you and Dean less anxious about my safety, I’ll move back with you. Besides,” She placed her hand on her stomach, “I think we’ll have some new members of the family soon.” 

“God, I love you.” “I love you too, alpha.”

💝💝💝💝💝

A shouting on the other side of the door woke Sam up from his deep sleep. “Sammy! Wake up! Need some help out here!” He shot out of bed, stumbling to the door and pulling it open. 

Dean had three kids hanging off him, one on each arm, trying to get ahold of the bag he was holding, and one on his back. “Help me!” He shouted as the little girl on his back, Mary Josephine, tugged on his hair, making her brothers, Robert and Dean Jr, laugh hysterically. “Bobby! D! MJ! Get off of your uncle! He’s not as young as you think he is.” Y/N came around the corner, her huge baby bump making her natural walk become a waddle that Sam always found adorable.

The triplets pouted but let go of Dean. They filed up to her, heads down. “Sorry ma.” She crossed her arms over her full chest, raising one brow. “I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” She nodded her head towards her brother-in-law. “Sorry Uncle Dean!” They all called out in unison. “You’re just as bad as your dad, I swear.” He shook his head laughing. 

Sam watched his wife lean down and whisper something in the kids’ ears. They all turned towards him, mischief sparkling in their eyes. He had only a second to prepare before they all launched at him, scrambling their way up his body. “Really? Sicking the kids on me? I thought my omega loved me.” “Oh I do love you alpha but you’ve been able to sleep for the past 5 months while I have to deal with another litter of your kids playing soccer with my bladder.” “I’m sorry omega, but you look so cute pregnant. And you make such cute babies.” Sam held up both his arms, which his 4 year old children were hanging off of as if to prove a point. Y/N got flustered. 

“Shut up.” She said but her voice held no real malice. Dean clapped his hands once. “Alright! Enough of the cuteness! I found some stuff in dad’s storage locker you guys might like.” He led them into the war room, placing the bag on the table and spreading out the items.

Y/N picked one up, tears in her eyes. “Is that?” Sam started. “Yeah, it is. I thought I had lost this.” She held up a small umbrella, covered in ducks.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff​

[oreomonsterhunter]

“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 3988

Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line

Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)

Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date

A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!

You were nervous.  Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes.  You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.

Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again.  All Johnny had told you was to dress up.  He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details.  You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium.  Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown.  Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one.  So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice.  Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.

You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach.  Your first date, oh my gosh.  How were you supposed to date Johnny?  You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week?  Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.

Then you groaned at your sudden realization.  Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny.  You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning.  So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?”  Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order.  You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.

You were sweating, oh gosh.  Did you need to reapply deodorant?  You froze, staring at nothing.  Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”

You sagged in relief.  Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny.  And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.

“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.

You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you.  Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man?  You haven’t told me anything.”

“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”

Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway.  “No wonder you didn’t share much detail.  I should’ve known.”

Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car.  He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character.  Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze.  He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in.  “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”

A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”

* * * * *

Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner.  A fancy restaurant.  You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace.  “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.

Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”

A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes.  “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.

“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.

“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence.  You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics.  The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying.  Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.

You frowned, reaching for your water.  But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror.  You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.

After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward.  “Do we even have a waiter?”

Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question.  “I don’t know?”

“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”

Johnny blinked at you.  “Wait, are you ready to order?”

“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”

“No one charges for water,” he chortled.

“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.

Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table.  “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.

“Wait, really?”

“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water.  You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.

“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves.  Pouting, you turned back to Johnny.  “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him.  “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”

“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order.  “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”

“Any Icelandic sparkling water?”  Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.

The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke.  “Can I interest you in a bottle of red?  You seem like a red wine woman.”

You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you.  “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you.  “I’ll have to card you, miss.”

Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet.  Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?”  But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.

“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.

“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.

“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list.  “What can I get you?”

You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table.  Curious.  “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.

“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list.  You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace.  You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire.  Time to test your theory.  You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process.  The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.

“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.

“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”

“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.

You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny.  “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.

Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again.  “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away.  “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly!  He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”

Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”

“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.

Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me.  He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table.  “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”

Johnny sent you an indecipherable look.  You wondered if your teasing had worked.  But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.  

You shrugged, sitting back in your chair.  You changed the subject, giving the man a break.  “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner.  I feel bad.”

“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.

“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.”  You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success.  Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist.  And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass.  Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation.  You really didn’t need to know what that looked like.  Had his hands always been that large?  You shifted in your seat.

Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”

I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap.  You’d never seen him in a suit before.  Or at least, not in person.

Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes.  “What?”

Oh shit, did you say that out loud?  Your cheeks burned.  “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished.  “We could get burgers, or something.”

Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours.  He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground.  Oh no, he definitely heard you.

“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low.  “You really are beautiful, not just tonight.  Every night.”

You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that.  Like you were the main course.  “Johnny, I—”

“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned.  You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job.  But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?

“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.

“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.

You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely.  Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder.  “Might I recommend the cheese board?  It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”

“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said.  His smile was sharper than before.  You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter.  Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night.  It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were.  You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute.  You’d just never let yourself think about it too much.  Best friend mental boundaries and all that.

Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this.  You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt.  It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.

Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.

“You realize they sell food here, right?  You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically.  You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream.  Oh gosh, did you drool?  You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.

Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”

Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way.  When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table.  He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”

You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore.  You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly.  Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.

A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down.  “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology.  “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”

Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt.  “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny.  Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.

“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”

You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue.  While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again.  You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle.  You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time.  The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.

“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before.  Your smile only grew.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in.  “Can we leave?  I can’t even kiss you here.”

“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth.  He nearly upended the table, making you snort.  “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.

You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him.  “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve.  “We didn’t pay yet.”

He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back.  Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer.  You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!”  You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.

Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours.  He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car.  I’ll grab the wine.”

You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower.  Your cheeks burned hotter.  But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.

* * * * *

You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood.  You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint.  You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.

After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief.  You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in.  One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.

“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter.  And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.

“Are you crazy?  You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.

“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.

Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact.  You could practically feel his smug little grin.  “Hands off the merchandise.”

“How is that fair?  You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull,” you said.  “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”

Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”

You grinned in victory.  “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information.  Now put me down, you caveman.”

Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down.  You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly.  “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.

You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off.  Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.

“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork.  Then he turned, crouching down slightly.  “Alright, princess, hop on.”

You beamed at him, not that he could see it.  It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself.  You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck.  “You’re the bestest.”  You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment building.  You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm.  “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.

But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say.  Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight?  You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different.  What were you supposed to do?

“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall.  “Where’s my tip?”

You stared at him, incredulous.  “Your tip?” you repeated.

“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said.  “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”

You cocked a hip, smirking slightly.  “Any preferred payment methods?”

Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it.  “I take cash or card,” he informed you.

“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door.  “I seem to have lost my wallet.”

He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time.  “Apps?”

You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”

He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement.  Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up.  Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest.  His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.

“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his.  Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.

Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips.  You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back.  What was the worst that could happen?

You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him.  He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his.  You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing.  And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss.  He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him.  Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.

Johnny pulled away, but not for long.  You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear.  He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently.  And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered.  Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward.  Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.

Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him.  All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly.  You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck.  You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.

While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward.  Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath.  Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours.  You grinned savagely into the kiss.  You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours.  “Woah, woah,” he gasped.  “Slow down, there.”

You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”

Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room.  Er, hallway.  “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him.  “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?”  You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.

He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb.  But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off.  “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.

Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man.  You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin.  “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.

“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”

You giggled, leaning back in his arms.  “Am I so scary?”

Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze.  “I just don’t want to mess anything up.  Not with you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him.  “I trust you too much.”

“Oh yeah?  You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.

You tilted your head, thinking back.  “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed.  “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”

Johnny blinked, taken aback.  “Even then?”

“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him.  “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”

“What was it?”

Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true.  You said it, too.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[selfobsessed-godcomplexed]

Prologue

[Rick Sanchez x GN! Reader]

A/N: I'm sorry if nothing in this is consistent with "did the dopamine wear off?" story. I honestly couldn't figure out whether I wanted it to be an actual sneak peak or a rough concept so I just went with what was best for this story.

"Where are you going?" Diane asked you, pressing her hand to your back gently. It had been only a few days since Rick and Diane's marriage and it had torn you apart. You didn't know why, but you had no interest in sticking around to find out. "Anywhere but here." You shook her hand off your shoulder. "Well, I'll see you again soon, right?" Richard asked, a bit of hesitation in his question. "I sure fucking hope not." You snear, with a click of the little white watch on your wrist, you were gone. Hopefully for good this time. Yet you couldn't hold back the tears. They were your best friends, but after their wedding you had nothing but a burning, yet cold, sensation in your chest with the mere thought of them. Why...? Shouldn't I be happy? It didn't matter. You were done. You had better things to do.

"I love you." You cried. Shaky breathes escape your lips, you covered your eyes with your arms. You hate those words more than anything, but all you wanted to do was tell Rick. He was gone, he wasn't yours. The cold burning sensation in your chest came back, the pain it brought was unbearable. He was happier without you anyway...

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The sound of space debris hitting your vehicle snapped you out of your thoughts. You scoffed. Landing your vehicle. Birding man. You thought there'd be no harm in attending the festival, maybe it'd even be fun. Everyone was dancing or getting high, you stood away from everyone for at least half an hour before you decided to walk around out of boredom. You weren't a buzz kill, you swear. You just had no social ques. You accidentally bumped into a blue haired man amidst your mindless wandering. He wore a black leather vest over a blue turtleneck. His dark eyebags assuring you there had been many sleepless nights. "Sorry." He mumbled shuffling away from him. He waved it off. You couldn't figure out why but the man had looked so...familiar. It infuriated you that you didn't know why. You couldn't for the life of you figure out why you felt as though you met him before.

"I have been informed you are freely distributing a grossly illegal federation hallucination." The sound of one of the bird people's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Well I wouldn't know what to charge, I sure didn't pay for it." The blue hairded man paused. "W-wanna hit?" He offered the bird person the tube of whatever substance he had on his person. "I am indeed down to clown."

"My name's Rick."

Rick. That name...

"My culture regards naming as a form of cage, my friends call me bird person." The bird man responded. Taking another hit. "Culture really fucked you over on that one, huh?" Rick responded.

"Affirmative."

Rick turned to you, offering you the tube they'd been smoking out off. "W-what about you? Want a hit?" You took a moment to think about it. Shrugging it off you took a hit from it, blowing out a hot pink ring of smoke. "Got a name?" You stared at him, for whatever reason the question annoyed you. "Yha. (Y/n)." You scoffed. He hummed. Almost as if you two had been thinking the same thing.

Have you met before?

You stuck around for a bit, spending the rest of the festival to have fun with Rick and bird person. Amidst the joy between you three you snuck off, making your way back to your vehicle. The familiar dead panned voice stops you in your tracks. "Where are you going?" You shot him a glare. You were irritated but you didn't understand why. "Where do you think, genius. Home. Clearly." You remarked.

"W-well, I'll see-I'll see you again soon, right?"

Your eyes widen.

"Well, I'll see you again soon, right?"

It couldn't be him. It was just a coincidence, right? "I sure fucking hope not." You snear, gettin in your vehicle and driving/flying off. Rick was in disbelief of the all too familiar coldness. Almost refusing to let himself remember. But sadly he couldn't repress the memories. Of you, of him. Of what you guys had...

You unlock the door to your house, slamming it shut. You make your way down to your basement. Turning on the lights, large human sized glass tubes lined the wall all filled alternate bodies, clones and various other creatures. Several gadgets spread about the walls and some on shelves. Your desk a mess with papers and tools, empty bottles and cans littering the floor beneath. You open the mini fridge beneath your desk, taking out the single bottle of vodka you had left. "Fuck. I'm out." You groaned laying your head in yours arms. You didn't want to remember. Yet at the same time you wish you could. Your memories feel so misty, bits and pieces missing. But it's enough to bring back the cold burning feeling in your chest. Why did you feel this way? It didn't matter. You wouldn't be seeing rick again. You didn't need people intruding in your solidute.

You took your watch off your hand, placing it on the table. One of your greatest accomplishments. You admired it. Back when you and Richard had been friends, he had always talked about portal science. Inter dimension travel. He never shut up about it. But shortly gave it up for Diane and his daughter. You could almost say Diane ruined your friendship. Or maybe you were just in denial of your jealous. This accomplishment meant nothing if you didn't accomplish it with him. That was the whole point of this stupid portal shit anyways. To spend our lives travelling the infinite cosmos. As...friends. Just...just friends.

You scoff, a tear streaming down your face. Fuck that guy. You despised him. He meant absolutely nothing. All the time in the world and you still had no time for him. Nor did you want any. You down the bottle of vodka, nothing else could fill that void in your chest but the bitter sweet taste of vodka. You put it back down, the bottle falling over and shattering in the floor. You sigh. Your head falling back down into your arms. Your burning red eyes became heavy. You were so tired.

You sworn you could hear a familar swish as you let yourself drift off to sleep.

Do I love you...?