#the cranky scowl is spot on

[boghermit]

nah Johnny WISHES his hair was as groomed as this fucking HF miniature

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[ovaryacted]

PAIRING: Tyler Owens x fem! reader || WC: 1.1k CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Doggy Style. Dirty Talking. Mentions of overstimulation. Kind of secret relationships/in denial vibes.

After watching Twisters a couple of days ago, I just had to write for this man. Sorry, I love bowlegged cowboys who have a lot of charisma. Thank you Glen Powell!

Sometimes, you hated dealing with Tyler Owens so frequently, constantly being met with his irritating smirk and aggravating charisma. Just hearing the sound of his voice was enough to make your ears ring, and the more you heard him hoot and holler after every tornado-chasing vlog, the closer you got to sawing your ears off.

He pissed you off like no other, using his Southern charm to sway the other storm chasers for information or even to get free drinks for the gang at the bar. The curl of his lips was usually met with the frequent roll of your eyes, two opposite sides of the same coin.

“You should relax more, you know?” He’d tell you in an attempt to be helpful, but all he did was annoy the shit out of you.

“Shut up,” you barked, sipping your beer and tuning the world out to the mellow country music on the radio. You didn’t need to look at Tyler to know he was staring back at you.

“Don’t be like that, all cranky and shit. It’s not a good look on you.” He teased, watching how you shook your head in defiance, a chuckle slipping out of him.

“Maybe I can help?” You heard his suggestion, and all it got him was a grumble and your signature scowl.

“Maybe you can fuck off.” He shrugged after that, taking another drink of his beer and eyeing you from afar.

Yeah, Tyler was a pain in your ass. His arrogance drove you up a wall, and his adamant cocky demeanor was even worse. You couldn’t fucking stand him.

But there were the not-so-rare singular instances where you didn’t mind his company.

Tangled up in the sheets with your face pressed into his pillow, your fingers clutched at the bedsheets underneath you, knuckles turning white as your body jolted forward. Your cheeks grew warm as you moaned and babbled with every smack of Tyler’s hips against yours, a broad hand holding the arch in your back and pushing you further into the mattress.

You’d lost track of time since tumbling into his bed, the alcohol coursing through your veins made it easy to forget your one-sided animosity with the infamous Tornado Wrangler. The way he fucked you silly turned your head to mush, retaining the creases of his eyes and the dimples of his smile widening after he made you cum on his tongue. Never one to just accept a singular orgasm from you, he was quick to go three for three, knowing that was your limit and the record he personally set.

Digging your face further into the bed, you sobbed at a particularly hard thrust, one that sent the tip of his cock into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. Your hips arched higher, and the curve of your spine deepened in an attempt to run away from the force of his movements.

“Ty…” You cried out for him, eyes closed as the nickname you chose came out like a hidden confession.

Grabbing at your hips, he dragged you back to him with one hand while the other moved from your backside to the nape of your neck, pulling you upward. The messy sheets no longer obscured your face, allowing the man behind you to admire his handiwork.

Eyes glassy and lined with tears, you looked back at him over your shoulder, lips plumped and bruised from when you were on your knees beforehand. You looked like a mess, as you usually did when Tyler had you in this position. To him, you were a dream. The fucked out expression on your face gave him the same adrenaline rush he gets when he sees a big storm brewing in the sky. It settles in his chest and rushes down to the pit of his stomach, waiting for the right time to burst into uncontrollable spirals.

He leaned closer to you, holding your head against his bare chest and cradling your face with a hand on your jaw. You felt a wet kiss on your upper cheek, the small act of intimacy forced your walls to twitch around his length. 

“This was all you needed to relax, baby? Just some good fucking to get that pretty head all empty for me.” Tyler rasped in your ear, keeping your head pinned to his body as he continued to drive into you.

You nodded weakly against his shoulder, eyes rolling to the back of your head when the tips of his fingers skimmed your aching clit, hips jerking at the touch. He kept you steady, his faint stubble grazing the skin of your neck as he sucked marks you’d have to hide in the morning.  

“Please, Ty. Fuck, please.” You were close, tears rolling down your cheeks at the promise of another climax. If it's one thing you know about Tyler, he always delivers.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” His hips pounded into you even harder as his fingers ran tight circles on your sensitive nub, motivated to bring you to the edge a third time. Your skin was on fire, your lower gut was melting, and your thighs shook as you struggled to keep yourself upright.

“C’mon baby, you’re so close for me. I can fucking feel it,” He mumbled lowly beside your temple, whispering praises that were solely reserved for you to hear.

Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, I swear.

You make me lose my mind, darling. Can’t get you out of my head.

All you gotta do is come for me. Be a good girl, and I’ll fill you up just right.

The tone of his voice is what pushes you to your release, tightening around him and gripping him like a vice as your body trembles. White flashes burst under your eyes, distantly hearing Tyler’s moan of your name as he spilled into you, filling you to the brim until it dribbled down your inner thighs.

You fell limp on the mattress with your head floating on cloud nine, trying to catch your breath. He softly kissed your shoulder and upper back, running his hands along your sides and bringing you back down to Earth from the intense high.

You couldn’t stand Tyler Owens. His egotistical grin irked you, and his voice was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can tolerate him enough to hear what he has to say.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[thinkinginpen]

Just A Guy With Claws And A Bad Attitude

a/n: Second fic in the same 24 hours? I honestly impress myself. Visual inspo by @malavera (Love you pooks 🤗) pairing: logan x reader w/c: 4.4k warnings: age gap, smut, p in v, loss of virginity, love, kissing, romance, dirty talk, etc. summary: You and Logan are on a mission in France and decide to take a break at the hotel, eating pizza, and watching a movie when things get out of hand

You and Logan were in France, on a mission that demanded much of you. A grumpy old mutant, Logan was perpetually cranky, but you had your jobs. The two of you were to keep watch for a looming invasion, the kind to threaten mutants. Your duty: Sound the alarm.

The air felt oppressive as you two worked silently, the impending danger a constant, lurking presence. Every so often, you'd steal a glance at Logan, his grumpy face fixed in a perpetual scowl as he scanned the surroundings.

The silence was eventually broken as Logan's voice cut through the air, gruff and tinged with sarcasm. "At this rate, we'll die of boredom before the invasion even gets here," he grumbled.

You gave a small, sympathetic smile at Logan's comment, understanding his frustration but maintaining a gentle attitude.

"Patience, Logan," you replied, your voice soft and kind. "We're doing our best to keep an eye out. I'm sure we'll spot them in no time."

Logan's scowl softened a bit at your response. He grunted in acknowledgement, but the usual edge was missing from his voice when he spoke again.

"Easy for you to say," he murmured gruffly. "You're not the one stuck here without any booze to pass the time."

You chuckled lightly at Logan's remark, amused by his ever-present desire for alcohol. "A little boredom won't kill you, Logan," you said, still speaking gently. "How about we just enjoy the peace and quiet while we can?"

Logan grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "easy for you to say" again, but he didn't argue further. The two of you continued your watch in companionable silence, the tension in the air slightly alleviated by your calming presence.

"I meant back at the hotel silly! We could do our own thing, maybe order some food and watch a movie?"

Logan blinked at your suggestion, a look of surprise crossing his gruff features. The idea of a change of pace clearly intrigued him, but he tried to cover it up with his usual grouchiness.

"Food and a movie, huh? Sounds like you're trying to spoil me," he mumbled, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You couldn't help but smile at his response, seeing past his gruff exterior to the man beneath. "Just trying to keep things interesting," you replied, your tone still soft and kind. "Think of it as a little break before the invasion starts. Besides, you need a proper meal in you anyway."

Logan grumbled again, but it was more for show at this point. He knew you had a point regarding the food - even his enhanced healing factor couldn't run on an empty stomach. Plus, the idea of a break was growing on him.

"Alright, fine," he relented, feigning grumpiness. "But I get to pick the movie."

"I don't mind at all," you responded, a faint smile on your lips.

Together, you and Logan finished up your watch and made your way back to the hotel. Once back in the safety of the hotel room, Logan immediately went to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He took a long swig before turning to you.

"How're you likin' being an X-Man?" He asked as he scrolled through movies.

You chuckled and took a seat on the bed, looking at Logan with a warm smile. "It's been quite the adventure," you responded. "I don't regret it one bit. Helping people is all that matters to me."

Logan hummed, selecting a movie from the list. "That's the difference between you and me, kid," he muttered, his tone more thoughtful than grumpy now. "You've still got that fire, that desire to do good. I've seen too much crap to be that idealistic."

"What's for dinner?" He asks, setting the remote down as he sits in a chair nearby the bed. Meanwhile you were sitting on the fresh white sheets.

"We can order something from room service," you suggested, reaching for the menu on the bedside table. "They've got a decent selection - pizza, burgers, pasta…"

"Pizza sounds good," Logan replied, taking another swig from his beer as he watches you flip through the menu. "Extra-large, load it up with toppings."

"And make sure they throw in some of those garlic knots," he adds with a slight smirk. "Order me a drink too, would ya?"

You chuckled softly and nodded. "Extra-large, fully loaded pizza and garlic knots coming right up. And I'll get you another beer, just for good measure," you said, pulling out your phone to order the food.

Once the order was placed, you set your phone aside and settled back against the pillows, looking at Logan who was still in his chair beside the bed. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning.

"You know, Logan," you said softly. "You may not be idealistic anymore, but you still care about doing the right thing. You just have a different way of showing it."

Logan huffed, his usual grumpy expression covering his face again, but you could see the hint of a vulnerable look in his eyes.

"Don't go gettin' all philosophical on me," he grumbled, but his voice lacked the usual bite. "I just do what I do, that's all. It ain't that deep."

You smiled softly and shook your head. "It may not seem like it to you, but a lot of us look up to you, you know? Your experience, your strength, the way you never back down from a fight… It's impressive," you said sincerely.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, his usual grumpy expression faltering slightly under the sincere compliment.

"Don't go putting me on some kind of pedestal," he grumbled, his voice gruff. "I'm just a guy with claws and a bad attitude."

A few minutes later, there is a knock on the hotel room door. Logan gets up to open it and you can already smell the scent of pizza and garlic knots wafting in from outside.

"Damn, that was quick," Logan mutters as he grabs the food from the delivery guy and closes the door again, making his way back inside with the goods.

"They definitely didn't skimp on the toppings," you note as Logan sets the boxes of pizza on the table. The pizza is piled high with all kinds of delicious ingredients, and the garlic knots look mouth-wateringly good.

"Looks like they even threw in some extra garlic sauce," Logan says, eyeing the knots hungrily. "Let's dig in."

You get up from the bed and step over to where Logan is sitting. You grab a plate and begin carefully placing slices of pizza onto it, the cheese stretching like melted strings.

As you finish, you smile softly and walk over to Logan, presenting the plate to him with a cold beer by it's side. "Here you go," you say softly. "All loaded up just the way you like."

Logan looks up at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He wasn't used to being treated like this, and it made him uncomfortable in a way that was new to him.

"Thanks," he gruffly mutters, taking the plate and the drink from you. He tries to cover up the vulnerability with a gruff demeanor as he takes a bite of the pizza, the flavors instantly hitting his tongue.

You step back and grab a slice for yourself, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you begin to eat. The pizza is hot and cheesy, the toppings blending together nicely, and the garlic knots are as delicious as they looked.

The room is silent for a moment, filled only with the sounds of you two eating. But it's a comfortable silence, the tension lessened by the distraction of good food.

Once the initial hunger is satisfied, Logan sets his plate aside and grabs the remote, switching on the television. He starts scrolling through movies, looking for one they can watch together.

"I suppose you want something lighthearted, right?" He asks, raising a brow as he continues searching through the selections. "Can't stomach any violence or something?"

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "I can handle a little violence, Logan," you assure him. "Just nothing too depressing, alright?"

"Fair enough," Logan mutters, still scrolling through the options. He seems to find one that meets the criteria and stops scrolling.

"How about this one?" He asks, showing you the screen. It's an older comedy movie, something light and fun.

You nod in approval, recognizing the movie as a classic. "That one works for me," you say with a smile.

Logan nods and clicks on the movie, starting it up. He sits back in his chair as the opening scene begins to play, his body relaxing slightly as he sipped his beer.

You get comfortable on the bed, your back propped up against the headboard as you watch the movie. The comedy helps lighten the mood in the room, occasionally drawing soft laughs from you and even a few gruff chuckles from Logan.

During a quieter moment in the movie, Logan reaches for his beer and takes a long swig. He glances over at you and notices you're watching him with slight envy.

He smirks, his voice gruff as he speaks. "Don't even think about it, kid. You're not 21 yet."

You pout slightly, realizing you've been caught. "Oh, come on, Logan," you protest. "Just one sip. I'm not gonna get drunk or anything, I promise."

Logan's gruff chuckle fills the room as he shakes his head. "Nice try, kid, but the answer's still no. I'm not gonna be the one who gets you drunk underage." He takes another swig of beer, a smirk still on his face as he continues watching the movie.

You cross your arms and pout slightly, clearly unsatisfied with Logan's answer. "I may not be 21, but I'm an adult," you argue. "I'm allowed to make my own decisions, even if I'm not old enough to drink legally yet."

Logan rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his beer. "You're old enough to be an X-Man, not a barfly. Trust me, you'll be better off waiting a few more years before you start drinking."

Logan glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk growing. "Oh, you're an adult now, huh?" He teases, his gruff voice tinged with amusement. "Just because you can make your own decisions doesn't mean they're all smart decisions, kid."

You huff, still not happy about being denied alcohol. "I'm old enough to fight in wars and risk my life for the world, but I can't have a little sip of beer?" You complain.

"Hey, I don't make the laws, kid," Logan replies with a shrug. He takes another swig of his beer, knowing full well how much it is irritating you.

As the movie continues to play in the background, you continue to pester Logan about the alcohol. But with each sip he takes, he becomes more relaxed and more willing to give in to your persistence.

Finally, he looks over at you with a grin, his eyes a little hazy from the alcohol. He motions for you to come closer, patting his lap. "C'mere," he slurs slightly.

You hesitantly get up from the bed and make your way over to Logan's chair, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in your eyes. As you get closer, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, his movements slightly shaky from the liquor.

He looks up at you, his gaze intense and slightly unfocused. "You want a taste, huh?" He murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He lifts the beer bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig, then pulls you closer.

Without warning, he captures your lips in a kiss, the taste of beer strong on his tongue as he lets the alcohol pass from his mouth to yours.

The kiss is intense and possessive, his hand gripping your wrist tightly to keep you close.

The taste of beer and Logan's tongue mingling together is almost overpowering, and your head begins to spin from the unexpected intensity. Your hands instinctively grip the fabric of his shirt, trying to keep yourself steady as the kiss deepens.

After a long, dizzying moment, Logan finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He looks at you with hazy, almost feral eyes, his grip on your wrist still tight.

"Damn, bub," he mutters gruffly. "You really need to be fixed, y'know that?"

You look at him, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, your world still spinning from the kiss. "What… what do you mean?" You manage to pant out, your voice shaky from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline.

"You," Logan grumbles, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that? A beautiful, stubborn little pain in the ass."

He looks up at you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression.

"Can't just let things be, can't just relax and enjoy the moment," he continues, his voice gruff and slurring slightly more with each word. "You always gotta push, gotta test the limits, gotta get what you want."

You manage to find your voice again, your words coming out in a soft, slightly shaky whisper.

"N-no, Logan," you reply, your eyes wide and fixed on his face. "I just…just wanted a taste. I didn't expect all this…"

Logan smirks, his hand moving up to cup your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his earlier gruffness.

"Oh, don't worry darlin'. I can be a pain in your ass tomorrow morning when you wake up, and the morning after that, and the morning after that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with alcohol and desire.

His eyes roam over your face again, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. "If that's what you want, anyway," he adds, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Might be a little sore, though," he continues, his smirk widening into a grin. "You up for a little soreness in the morning?"

You swallow hard, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach at the implications of his words. "Y-yeah," you manage to stammer out, your voice cracking slightly. "I…I can handle a little soreness in the morning."

Logan's grin widens even more, his eyes darkening with lust. "That's what I like to hear," he says huskily. "A little pain, a lot of pleasure. That's what you want, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you whisper, your voice shaky as you meet his gaze. "Yeah, that's what I want."

"Good," he smiled reaching for your blouse and taking it off of you.

His fingers hastily worked through his buttoned down shirt before exposing his bare chest to the cold air of the room.

You placed a hand on his thick veiny arm. "Logan..?"

He immediately stopped, sensing you having second thoughts. "Yeah bubba?"

"I-" You paused, "Do you think I'm too young? Maybe I should find someone my own age?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Like who? A silly school boy? Fuck no, baby. Silly school boys can't do what I can."

"Logan I'm just saying-" He hushed you with a finger.

"Hush baby girl, the answer is no."

With that he closed the windows.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips gently. Of course, he deepened it being as gruff and experienced as he was. But you were young and had no clue how to act. You let him guide you into a bliss.

Your hands moved to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin.

"Good girl," he muttered against your lips. "A young man can't make you feel like this princess. I can smell your arousal."

He nipped at your lips as he continued working his fingers on your pants. You felt amazing, perched on his lap, kissing this big strong man who could take care of you, as he unclothed you.

With a swift and skillful tug, your pants were suddenly on the floor, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable on his lap. His hands roamed over your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Logan's breath was hot on your neck as he murmured, "So damn beautiful. Young and sweet… and all mine, princess."

You shivered as his calloused hands traced over your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your own hands gripping onto his biceps for support.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice already shaky. "I…"

"Shh," he hushed you, his lips finding their way to your neck. "Don't think about anything but this, baby girl. Just feel."

You gave into the moment, lost in the heady haze of arousal and desire. You surrendered to his touch, his kiss, letting the intensity of the moment wash over you.

His lips were firm and dominating on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hungry possessiveness that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, large and calloused against your smooth skin, each touch sending waves of sensation through you.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong. Yet it felt so right. You were being taken, claimed, by this older, rougher man, and you couldn't help but surrender

The taste of him, the musk of his skin, the scrape of his stubble against your chin as his kiss continued to deepen – all of it was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself getting lost in him, your body responding to his touch like it had a mind of its own.

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, drawing paths of fire across your body. You were on fire, burning for him, consumed by the passion that was building between you.

You could feel the desire building, the heat between your legs growing stronger with every second. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, his hands and lips working some kind of magic on you, bringing you into a fever pitch of need.

You could feel the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs, a reminder of the difference between the two of you – a young thing, untried and inexperienced, and a man, older and world weary, with enough knowledge to drive you wild.

His hands moved to your hips, shifting you so you were straddling him, your bodies pressed as close as humanly possible. His mouth moved to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses downwards, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimpered softly as he nipped at your collarbone, the sensation sending another wave of desire through you. Your hands were tangled in his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly, holding him closer, as if you couldn't stand the thought of him moving even an inch away from you.

His kiss was dominant, his touch possessive, but there was a tenderness there, a care that you hadn't expected. It was as if he was taking care of you, claiming you, but also making sure not to hurt you too much.

The thought only made you more aroused, more desperate for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, aching for more. You could feel his hardness against you, a silent promise of the pleasure that was to come.

Finally, he pulls back from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you. A wolfish grin is plastered on his face.

"Damn, darlin'," he mutters, his voice gruff and raspy. "You're a feisty little thing, ain't ya?"

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his grin widening as he takes in your flushed and disheveled appearance. "Look at ya," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your body. "All messy and needy, just from a little kissin'."

He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "You like that, princess?" He asks, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper in his eyes. "Like the way I make you feel all riled up and wanton?"

You nod, unable to form words, your body still buzzing from the kiss and the way he was looking at you. "Yeah," you manage to whisper, your voice sounding small and breathless.

He chuckles softly, his hand moving from your chin to trail down your neck. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down to your bare chest. “You like the way a big strong man like me can make you feel so small and weak. Like you belong to me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pins you down on the bed, his body looming over you. He looks down at you with a wolfish grin.

"That's right, darlin'," he growl, his hands on your wrists, holding them down on either side of your head. "You're mine. Mine to take care of, mine to tease, mine to pleasure."

He holds your wrists with one hand, while undoing his belt with the other. You watch with fascination, and a hint of trepidation, as he pulls the belt slowly out of the loops of his jeans.

His jeans slid down his leg followed by his boxers.

His cock sprung free and your breath hitched. "You're getting ruined tonight, pretty girl." He whispered before pressing the head of his member to your entrance.

You whimpered grabbing onto his bicep.

The next thing you knew you were being stretched open by his length, letting out precious cries.

He wiped your tears of ecstasy with his large hands only adding to your arousal.

He pushed you further down into the bedsheets, the back of your head buried in the pillows.

His hips thrusted forward, your back arching as he let out loud grunts.

"You're doing amazing baby," he muttered into your ear. You let out a gentle moan, your hands tangling in his hair as his stubble brushed up against your cheek.

"P-please," you whispered.

A grin spread across his face, "Are you close sweetheart? Do you need daddy to fuck that cunt a little more?"

You whimpered, your nails pressing into his skin. "I-I think so... Oh god- Please just a little more Logan..."

The second you opened your mouth he was moving faster and more violently. Then his hot seed poured into you, and you were ruined.

Ruined on these white bedsheets. Ruined for the first time. Ruined, no longer innocent. Ruined by this older man.

A long gasp escaped your throat.

"Did you enjoy yourself hun?" He murmured into your ear.

"I..." You nodded. "I did, thank you."

You laid down in his arms not prepared for another round for a long while. You were still processing all that had happened.

He got up to take a shower.

After a moment of silence, you hear the bathroom door open and close, the sound of the shower turning on following soon after. You're left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the aftermath of what just happened.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind swimming with a flurry of emotions. There's a mixture of pleasure, confusion, and a hint of shock at what just happened.

The sound of running water continues from the bathroom, a constant reminder of the man inside who just took you to heights you'd never before experienced.

You're still trying to process everything – the feeling of his body against yours, the way he moved, the way he made you feel. The way he called you 'his.'

You listen to the sounds of the shower, the water drumming against the tiled walls. You can picture him in there, the soap suds running over his muscular, scarred body, the steam rising around him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the shower stopping, and the bathroom door opening again. A moment later, Logan appears in the doorway, steam billowing behind him. He's got a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair is damp and tousled.

He grins when he sees you on the bed, sprawled out and still recovering from the intensity of it all. "Hey there, princess," he says, his voice low and gravelly. He walks over to the bedside and looks down at you with a hungry gaze.

"Looks like I wore you out," he chuckles. He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

"But you look damn cute all worn out," he adds, his smirk growing wider. He lowers himself onto the bed beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip under him.

He props himself up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you, still naked and flushed in the aftermath of their encounter. “You doin' all right, baby girl?”

You nod, managing a slight smile. "Yeah," you whisper, your voice still a little hoarse. "I'm just…processing everything, I guess."

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. You can feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the heat radiating from him like a furnace.

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell good, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and gravely.

"And you're so damn soft," he continues, his free hand roaming over your bare back. "So soft and warm, just like a little kitten."

You shiver slightly at his touch, the sensation both comforting and arousing. You press yourself closer to him, relishing the feeling of being enveloped in his strong arms.

He continues to murmur in your ear, his words now growing more heated. "And that little body of yours….so tender, so responsive, all for me," he whispers, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

His hand runs down your spine, sending little jolts of electricity through your body. "You're mine now, princess," he whispers into your hair. "All mine. My sweet, little thing."

He wraps both arms around you, holding you close to his broad chest. You can hear the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat, a comforting rhythm in the quiet room.

Wrapped up in his embrace, his warmth and strength surrounding you, you feel safe and cared for. The worries and fears of the mission fade away as your eyes grow heavy.

Before you know it, you're slipping into a deep and peaceful sleep, your breathing slow and steady, your body completely relaxed in Logan's strong arms.

🏷️: @vintagemoss

[taetaespeaches]

small moments of comfort

bts x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.7K

a/n: Hi lovelies! I hope you all enjoy these little blurbs. These are just small glimpses of the the boys and reader/oc gaining comfort from each other in random situations. Thanks for reading! :)) 

↬ seokjin: Your legs are still a bit unstable and full of sleep as you make your way back into the bedroom with a glass of water. You pause at the doorway, leaning against it as you watch Seokjin, his face adorably pressed against the pillow, his plush lips smooshed into a cute pout. Stepping toward him, he stirs, his hands searching for your body that is not in bed with him. It’s then that he lifts his head, his eyebrows pulling into a scowl, his eyelids forcing themselves open in search of you. Spotting you standing beside the bed, he grunts in disapproval. “Jinnie,” you coo, trying to coax him awake. In defiance, he plops his head against the pillows once again. “Love, no,” he groans, his arms lazily reaching out for you again, in desire of finding you and pulling you back into the coziness of your bed. “Come on,” you giggle, setting the glass of water down on the bedside table. As if the sound of the glass touching the wooden tabletop is his cue, he suddenly uses all his energy to lunge forward, wrapping his arms around your thighs, and pulls you down onto the mattress with him. Tugging you against him, he tosses the blankets over your laughing form and slings his leg over your hips. “Stay here with me,” he mumbles against the top of your head, the words followed by a sweet peck to your hair. “What about breakfast?” You question as your arm rests over his waist, already allowing your lingering tiredness and the warmth of his body lull you back to sleep. “We’ll have lunch.”

↬ yoongi: Your eyes are heavy as you run the sponge over the plate in the soapy water. You would kill for an early night, the week’s stress wearing you down. A yawn slips from your lips just as Yoongi’s arms wrap around your waist, drawing a surprised gasp from you. He chuckles against your frame as he whispers a quick apology before he tucks his chin over your shoulder. “Missed you,” he mumbles quietly, as though he has to be gentle with the volume of his voice. You hum in response, relaxing in his arms to reciprocate the feeling, a silent, missed you too. “New perfume?” He suddenly asks, the question making you halt your actions for a moment, your hands lingering in the dishwater all covered in suds. “You can tell?” You ask through a fond, appreciative smile. “It’s nice,” he simply replies, kissing your neck softly. As you reach for another dish, Yoongi uses his position behind you to pull you away from the sink, squeezing his body between you and the dishes as he instantly takes over the task. “Yoongi,” you complain. “Go rest,” he nods toward the bedroom, all but kicking you out of the kitchen. “I mean it, I’ll join you soon.”

↬ hoseok: It’s late and you’ve been on the road all day, both you and Hoseok feeling the tension from your agitated states. A long day of traveling and minor inconveniences has resulted in two cranky people who have been taking turns snapping at each other over the past several hours. After an uncomfortable period of silence as you stare out the window, Hoseok’s voice is gentle over the music humming quietly throughout the cab: “The moon is full,” he says in an attempt to defuse the heaviness of your previously foul moods. You love the moon. Turning to look at him, he points through the windshield, directing your gaze. Craning your neck to peer up at the sky, you see the brightness of the moon’s glow, lighting up the night. Just like that, a simple gesture of goodwill and expression of love, both of your demeanors soften. You watch as he places his hand over the gear shift and settles into his seat, your body following suit as you sit back in yours. You reach over and place your hand overtop his, and he instantly twists the limb in your grasp to intertwine his fingers with yours. A small smile curves on your lips as you glance over at his handsome side profile and spot the soft dimple in his cheek as his own grin grows wider. No apology is necessary when his thumb brushes the side of your hand and you squeeze tightly for just a moment.

↬ namjoon: You are what Namjoon calls a chronic overthinker, and well, he would know as he suffers the same fate. You’re in the kitchen sitting at the island, unable to sleep and not wanting your tossing and turning to wake your boyfriend. However, you didn’t consider what your lack of presence would do to his slumber. “What’s wrong?” Namjoon’s low, sleep-filled voice sounds from behind you, startling you as you snap your head towards him. Through a sign, you tell him, “I just can’t sleep,” as you turn in your seat to face him. “You go back to bed though, I won’t be up long.” Namjoon shoots you a sassy glare, as though your suggestion is ridiculous to him. He moves to the stove and puts a kettle on to boil. Then, he joins you at the island, standing behind you while his hands find purchase on your shoulders as he takes a crack at massaging out the tension. “Wanna talk about it?” He asks before giggling at the moan that slips from your lips. “Tomorrow,” you tell him. He leans forward and kisses the back of your head gently. “Ok,” he whispers in understanding, his hands still gently soothing the muscles in your shoulders and neck. “We’ll have some tea and then try to sleep again,” he relays his plan, a smile curving on your lips as you nod in approval. He leans closer to your ear, kissing the shell of it before whispering his command for you. “You just focus on relaxing.”

↬ jimin: Pressing the button for your floor inside the elevator, you let out a sigh- your body’s attempt to release the stress from the day. Just as the doors start to close, you hear someone calling out to you from the apartment complex’s entryway. “Dear!” Jimin’s voice sounds, triggering you to quickly use your arm to halt the doors from shutting. You smile at your boyfriend as he jogs into the elevator, flashing you that pretty beam, and you already feel more at peace. “Fancy meeting you here,” you flirt, earning a breathy chuckle from the man. He brushes his hand through his hair in that charming way that makes millions swoon, his other hand lifting the grocery bag and forcing your gaze from his angelic features to take notice. “Got us a little something,” he smirks. Lifting your eyebrows in intrigue, Jimin pulls a glass bottle out of the bag just far enough for you to deduce its contents. Wine. “God, I love you,” you exhale happily, Jimin giggling as he leans in and leaves a kiss to your mouth. “Let’s get wasted,” he jokingly whispers against your lips through an obvious grin as you fall into his embrace, happy to be home.

↬ taehyung: There’s an incessant tapping against the side of your calf muscle. That’s the first indication of Taehyung’s stress. Your legs are draped over his lap as you read a book and he watches the television. However, peering over the pages, you find a crease etched between his eyebrows as he stares ahead at the wall rather than the screen, lost in thought. And that’s your second indication of stress. The third comes in the form of a sigh that he doesn’t realize he lets out. Frowning at him, you set the book aside and pull your legs from his lap, the sudden loss of your presence shifting his attention to you. You cock your head at his wide-eyed gaze, the sweet man looking innocent and bewildered. He watches as you sit up on your knees and make your way across the sofa to him, instantly draping your leg over his hips and straddling his lap. As if it’s instinctual, his large hands settle on the sides of your thighs as he looks up at you, his tongue poking between his lips to wet them. “Hi,” he greets, still confused by the sudden attention but not at all opposed. “What’s on your mind, Dearest?” You ask, noting the way his eyes soften and his body relaxes slightly beneath you. It feels as though he’s been waiting for someone to ask. You lean toward him and press your lips softly against his forehead, lingering for a small moment before whispering against his skin: “Tell me all about it.”

↬ jungkook: You follow the sound of water cascading to the shower floor and Jungkook’s pretty vocals all the way from the front door of your apartment to the bathroom. The echoes of his shower singing, a habit of his that you adore, acts like breadcrumbs, a trail you can’t resist pursuing. Stepping into the space, you’re instantly enwrapped with steam, Jungkook’s stunning voice, and the scent of vanilla. Behind the foggy glass is Jungkook’s distorted frame, and you’re hit with the desire to join him and let the hot water and the man you love melt away the stress of the day. “Are you using my body wash again, you brat?” You lightheartedly accuse overtop the rush of the water raining over him. His head snaps in your direction, Jungkook brushing his palm against the steamy door to clear a section to spot you through. The shower door then opens, his cute doe eyes shining as he beams guiltily at you, the man pushing his wet hair back. The giggle he lets out already has your troubles from the day drifting from your mind. “It smells better than mine,” he replies cutely. Smiling back at him, you watch the water pour down his toned body as he gestures for you to join him with a nod of his head. A wordless invitation you’re more than happy to accept. Before you can process your actions, you’re pulling your clothes off, aching to get your hands on the vanilla scented dream boy who smiles at you giddily.

[oneshlut]

Could you possibly do some hcs for Jax with a s/o that's a tsundere at times and he finds their reactions to his teasing amusing? (If you don't know what that is defined as a term used to describe a person or character who swings between emotionally hot and cold, in particular when dealing with a love interest. Especially used to describe someone who is usually cold or cranky but occasionally shows a soft, kind, mushy side.)

A/N: yesyes! i know how much you folks love flirty/teasing jax, and i am here to feed you all. eat up my little weirdos😋

Lovingly Hated (Jax x Tsundere!Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: Headcanons of a flirty Jax with a tsundere S/O, how Reader reacts to his teasing

Oh, when I say he makes fun of you, he makes fun of you. Nothing amuses him more than making you mad, irritated, or just generally pushing buttons. I feel like we've gone over this many times before, but yes, he's a total asshole. Never too mean to you, though.

When he eventually gets with you, (how that happened is another story), he realizes you get irritated not just by him being a dick. Rather, being the opposite. Seems like you get flustered by just the slightest bit of flirting. And he teases you relentlessly.

Jax is always up for good comedy. Why not make his own? To him, you're his own personal amusement. Yes, he still views you as a person, with feelings and all that jazz. But he's not just about to pass up this opportunity. After all, you just looked so cute, getting all flushed and defensive.. he couldn't help himself!

So, despite your many protests, he continued to tease you. Even if you stated how much you hated him, and even told him to his face how huge of an asswipe he was, the slightest glint of a dorky grin gave it all away. Jax could see through you like glass.

On this subject, he never gets hurt at your remarks or denying of feelings. Again, he can see right through you, so putting up a facade in front of him is a bad idea unless you want to be joked about it to your grave. Honestly, Jax finds himself enlightened at the scowling look on your face, because he knows--even as much as you try to refuse it--you love him. And here returns the strange feeling in his digital stomach.

Will call you cute little nicknames just to see your reaction. Some examples being: Sweetheart, Cutie, Sugar, Love/Lovely, Sunshine or Sunflower, Angel, all that jazz. And yet, that's just the tip of the iceberg. Though, one that Jax notices that you favor, is Darling. He makes sure to use that one more than the others. His personal favorite, though, is sweetheart. It always seems to make you stumble.

If nothing else, you were one of Jax's favorite people. That thought made you lightweight. But, god, if you ever admitted you enjoyed his company, you wouldn't hear the end of it. You hardly ever showed him your mushy-gushy side, since you had hated getting so open and vulnerable. Normally, when you did eventually get soft, he had teased you about it. But he knows when and when not to joke about things with you.

Sometimes? He's completely incapable to joke. If you're irritated and tough part of you managed to slip away, and you had told him how you genuinely loved him in a heartfelt way.. Jax would crash.

Jax is more of someone to give affection rather than take it, so if you hugged him, held his hand, or, you know.. kissed him, he wouldn't be able to handle it and would just freeze up on the spot. But, of course, Jax still teased you about it afterwards.

Days will go by where you just fight back and forth like children. You'd deny your feelings for him, and he'd tease you about it. Over and over and over again. Kind of like a 'nuh-uh', 'yeah-huh' situation.

Jax himself doesn't like to get sentimental. If he's gonna show you in any way that he likes you, he's gonna do it by flirting playfully until you get sick of it and just say you like him. He'll say something like: 'Don't worry, I like ya too', then walk away, leaving you slightly befuddled and warm.

He may tease and flirt all the time, but know that Jax genuinely loves you. He loves the way you fight and tease back, he loves your reactions, he loves everywhere that you go. Not like he'd admit it or anything.

But, if there's anyone you're gonna get with, I'd be surprised if you choose Jax. Because believe me, around here, Valentines Day is treated like another April Fools.

[roseeyes]

Hey guys, I’m new to writing this kind of fanfic so take it or leave it and let me know if you want more

Summary: Logan Howlett is your new roommate in a New York City mutant base. You want to learn more about him but he’s not ready to open up yet.

You just walked Into your new shared living space with your realtor bestie Amara who is currently trying to sell you this flat in the NYC mutant base.As you walk in you see two hot middle aged men sitting on the couch one with burned skin the other had fluffy hair and a chain around his neck. “Hi I’m Wade and this is Wolvie I mean Logan oopsie!” Wade is laughing while holding Logan’s whiskey up in the air Logan growls at Wade trying to get his alcohol back because he can’t do anything sober.

Hi im y/n Amara didn’t tell me id have two roommates . “oh I live Nextdoor Logan is your roommate but we will see each other a lot I promise” wade says, he looked you up and down taking you in he can’t help but notice how your tits are practically popping out of your crop top.

Amara says I’ll let you meet your new friends while laughing and walking away. you look to Logan first noticing his gruff and mean look softens when he looks at you. Logan slightly smiles asking you if you want anything to drink he usually could never get this hot and bothered over a girl but you were different he needed to know more of you . You nod while smiling you immediately know you need to get Logan alone with you so you could learn more about him.

“I’m going back to my flat but I’ll see you tomorrow wolvie and friend don’t have two much fun without me!” Wade says while making a sexual innuendo with his fingers. Logan scowls but you notice that he definitely has some sort of a soft spot for wade.

“Sorry about him” Logan says in his gruff and deep voice

It’s ok he seems really friendly. “if you can call that friendly” Logan says while snickering to himself.

When you go to sit on the couch you notice Logan’s claws and ask about them Logan explains he’s part of a group called the X-men you explain how you are also a mutant with the ability to heal in record time and you can’t die. Logan says that you should meet Charles soon that the X-men could use a girl like you which makes you blush.

Logan explains how this building was built to help protect mutants from the outside world and that’s why you both decided to start living there.

As you get to know some of who Logan was and the night went on you eventually stopped chatting deciding to go unpack in your room. The trashy reality tv show wade had turned on slowly blended into background noise while Logan fell into a deep snoring sleep on the couch.

You unpacked your cute mini shorts and your brandy Melville fits while thinking back to why you decided to move here to the New York City mutant base was it for work as a mutant hero or something more you needed to know more about Logan Howlett you knew that there was more to his story that a drunk cranky middle aged mutant wolverine. What was his story and how did he get those long metal claws?

You walk out into the living room seeing that Logan was still fast asleep noticing a long metal chain dog tag hanging from his neck out onto the couch.

Walking over you know that it must be a clew to who he was in his past. Without thinking you approach his snoring body to pick up the tag to get a closer look staring at it you see a number and his nickname Wolverine etched into the metal. What could it mean?

All of a sudden Logan growls loudly waking up his claws stick out one of them going through one of your hands you wince in pain the skin on your hand already starts to grow back. The chain swinging back to Logan’s neck. You try to calm Logan down wondering what could have possibly made him wake up in this way.

You hold Logan and try to tell him he is safe and that no one is trying to harm him after about ten minutes of this he calms down and you sit together at the kitchenette “I’m sorry Bub is your hand ok?” It’s fine you say as Logan pours you a cup of the leftover whiskey that he was drinking earlier even though you don’t drink you reluctantly sip it down to make Logan feel better.

“What did you want to see my chain for?”Logan asks. I was wondering what it’s for since usually people where those who were in the military. “I wasn’t in the military but you could say I did my time to get the piece of metal.” You could tell Logan wasn’t ready to open up quite yet since you had just met each other but it still made you sad that he didn’t want to tell you his past. “I’m going back to sleep now I’ll see you in the morning” you say while walking away back to your room. Logan looks at you with a sense of guilt and hunger in his eyes he’s never met anyone so kind and gentle before he feels awful for hurting you. Later that night you awake to hear the fridge open laughing to yourself hearing Logan get more beers for himself.

I can’t wait to learn more about Logan tomorrow you smile to yourself excitedly knowing that he will soon be an open book to you it just takes time.

Let me know if you guys want me to continue this or not because I already have a storyline in my head for this I also want to say that this will eventually lead to smut but I want to make it a slow burn also I will include more of wade. Xoxo

[sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette]

Make Things Even

Pairings: Dean x plus size reader

Synopsis: you and Dean had a love hate relationship but what happens when you sneak lust into the equation? What happens when Dean accidentally walks in on you playing with yourself?

Author’s note: I wrote this in 3 hours on my phone instead of going to bed. This is my first SPN fic, please tell me what you think!!! P.S Sammy is the sweetest lil wingman in this lol

You slowly blinked your eyes open and turned to see 10:04 staring back at you on your alarm clock. You stretched out your limbs and your muscles ached in protest - clearing out that vamp nest with the boys a couple of days ago really pushed you to your limits so you all christened today “rest day.” The boys could tell how worn out you were and Sam had been talking non-stop about going to the movies so today you were all officially unplugged and forbidden from going on or looking for cases.

You got up, put on your slippers, and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen.

“Morning princess,” Dean called out from his place at the table, setting his cup of coffee down and peering up at you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“If anything, I’m a goddess.” You made your way to Sam who was offering you a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

“Here you go, Goddess,” Sam jokingly said putting the plate in your hands. You smiled and Dean rolled his eyes before going back to eating his breakfast.

As you went to sit at the table, the spot opposite to Dean, you saw him sneak a peak at you. You were sporting some tight, short, velvety black shorts and a tank top and Dean made sure to stare a bit too long at both your ass and your tits before pretending he didn’t spare you a second glance. You knew Dean loved sex but you also knew he sought out sex with thin women and you.. well, you were not. You’d grown somewhat comfortable with your body over the years and you weren’t scared of wearing tight clothing anymore but you’d heard Dean say a few offhanded fat jokes so you knew the chance of you two ever having anything was null. And, you were okay with that, really, because even though Dean was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on you also realized you’d never be fully comfortable with him to have sex. So, you decided that not giving a shit about what you wore around the bunker was the way to go and even though sometimes he’d look at you like he wanted nothing more than to have his way with you, he’d always grab his keys, say goodbye with a “don’t wait up,” and come back with one or two small hickeys on his neck that no doubt a petit brunette gave him.

“Something caught your eye?” You asked Dean with a cheeky smile and he spared a second glance at your tits before looking back up at your face.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” You asked again, looking up at him from under your lashes and making sure your tits bounced a bit as you reached for the syrup. Again, he looked down at your tits but this time you swore there was a slight sparkle in his eye. You knew you’d never have sex with the man but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy torturing him a bit. When he looked back up at you he knew you’d caught him staring so he awkwardly coughed and grabbed his fork.

“Uh yeah, yes. Yes, I’m sure,” he put a piece of bacon into his mouth and you decided to give the guy a break.

“Thank you for breakfast Sam,” You called out to him as he made his way to sit next to Dean.

“No problem, I figured I’d be up before either of you anyway. You two are so similar honestly - you both love sleeping in and are cranky without breakfast. I can expect little scowls every morning before either of you are fed.”

“I don’t scowl,” You and Dean said in unison while scowling at Sam.

“Uh huh, like I said,” Sam laughed and started eating his breakfast. You looked at the boys eating and suddenly got a bit self conscious; they were both well over 6 feet tall and muscular meanwhile you were a chubby and soft 5’7 eating the same breakfast they both were. You knew Sam meant nothing by serving you all the same portions, in fact you loved that he never called any attention or made any distinctions based on your weight, but it didn’t stop your brain from overthinking.

“Everything okay? Are you not hungry?” Sam asked you with a concerned tone. You were about to answer when Dean responded instead.

“Of course she’s hungry.” He said it offhandedly while reading the paper, he probably didn’t even realize what he said or how it sounded but it sent your brain into overdrive and you wanted more than to not be there at all. Sam quickly looked over at Dean, knowing exactly what it sounded like, and you could tell he was about to tell him off but you cut in instead.

“I’m just tired, I think I’ll head back to my room to rest.” You pushed your plate forward. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dean put the paper down and look up at you.

“But you just woke up?” Dean called out to your retreating form as you made your way across the kitchen. His voice sounded confused and also.. sad?

“I’m going to rest just after waking up kind of like how you keep drinking after downing 7 beers. Not everything makes sense, Dean, it just is,” you called back and you didn’t realize quite how harsh you sounded until you’d already made your way out of the kitchen. Whatever, Dean had thick skin and he’d get over it; you’d get over it too.

* * *

A couple hours later a small knock startled you out of the book you were reading.

“Come in,” You called from your comfortable spot in bed and you looked up to see light, sandy brown hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes peering at you from behind the door. Dean hesitated there before finally taking a couple steps inside your room.

“How’s your book?” Dean making small talk? Sam must have put the fear of God in him.

“You came in here to talk about my book?”

“No, I came here to apologize,” he said, looking at the floor with his hands in his pocket. He looked nervous and a little helpless.

“It’s fine Dean.”

“No it’s not,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked everywhere except at you, “I was a complete ass back there and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out I swear, it’s just Sam and I are always starving after a hard case and I know the vamps were rough so I just meant you were hungry because duh you took down like 6 vamps but then I realized that it sounded like I was talking about you and your body and I would never talk about you like that. Your body is fucking perfect and I opened my mouth and just made a fucking mess. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” Dean finished his apologetic rant but one thing kept ringing in your ears. Your body is fucking perfect.

“You can apologize but you don’t have to lie Dean.”

“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively and finally looked at you. You don’t know why but that just pissed you off even more.

“My body is fucking perfect? C’mon, seriously? it’s probably only just tolerable by your standards,” you shot back and saw his face etched into perfect confusion.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Tolerable? I know you caught me staring at you earlier, so you know that’s not true”

“Yes fine I have big tits and some ass but I’m still fat”

“Who gives a fuck?” He nearly shouted at you. This conversation was equally confusing and infuriating you. When the hell did Dean Winchester decide he was attracted to bigger women?

“I don’t but you do.” You held your ground.

“What are you talking about?” You could tell he was aggravated too.

“Dean, when is the last time you fucked someone who wasn’t a size zero?”

“I haven’t yet but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to” he responded without skipping a beat. You both stared at each other and you refused to be the first one to break eye contact. Dean gave you an easy out and dropped his gaze down to your body. God, you swear the room went up 20 degrees. Dean Winchester was lusting after you, a size 16? Absolutely not, it couldn’t be. Just as Dean made eye contact with you again Sam came excitedly barging in.

“Okay the movie starts at 4 and it’s 1:12 right now. The movie theater is like 30 minutes away but we should account for traffic and snack time so we should leave at 3, sounds good, right?” Sam looked at you and Dean with a smile on his face, completely oblivious to the situation he’d just diffused.

“Yes Sam, sounds good,” Dean answered in a clipped tone and pat his brother on the shoulder before turning around and walking out of your room. You saw Sam mutter a small ow and clutch his shoulder before he looked over at you.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us?”

“A French film? No thanks Sammy, I’d rather stay here and read a book or watch trashy American TV,” you giggled holding up your book.

“Okay okay, we’ll bring you back some popcorn, promise” he said turning around to leave.

“Hey, does Dean know it’s a French film?” You’re surprised Dean would ever agree to that.

“He better, I talked to him about it for like an hour,” Sam said as he shut your door. Now that you were alone you actually had time to think about everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. Dean was attracted to bigger women? Dean was attracted to you? You felt like your entire world had shifted and you had no idea which way was up. You didn’t know if this meant that you and Dean would ever become anything but now that you knew your feelings could be requited, there was at least a possibility and that intrigued you and terrified you all at once.

* * *

The beginning of the end came at 2:50.

“Hey I looked it up on the theater’s website and for sure there will be subtitles” Sam confirmed as he made sure he had his phone and wallet in his front right jacket pocket. Dean, who had been previously looking for his keys, immediately stopped and looked at his brother.

“Subtitles, Sam?”

“Yes Dean subtitles. I told you this was a French movie.”

“French? Like a French movie?” Dean asked with a hopeful smile.

“No Dean not a French movie, it’s just a French movie. C’mon dude I talked to you about it for like an hour.”

“Sammy I don’t feel good,” Dean said grabbing his stomach.

“No, you’re not flaking out on me right now. We’re leaving Dean.” Sam said sternly pointing to the door.

“C’mon man, I’m not sitting through a 2 hour French movie that doesn’t even have any porn.”

“You suck man, the worst,” Sam called out to his brother as he grabbed the keys and made his way to the garage.

“Leaving now, bye!” Sam called out after he’d made his way to the top of the stairs and heard your faint little bye in response. He couldn’t see Dean anymore and figured he’d gone to his room to listen to some music. He smiled knowing full well he’d actually told Dean they were going to watch an action movie and telling you they were watching a French film but deciding that what you two need was some quality time to resolve all the tension that had been building over the past few months.

Your little argument with Dean had put you in a mood but you were also .. turned on? You were, decidedly, very confused and your best option was going to take a cold shower. Yes, that’ll help you told yourself as you grabbed your towel and made your way to the bathroom.

While you were in the shower you couldn’t stop thinking about all the new possibilities. Was Dean going to openly check you out now or was he actually going to act on it? Did you even want him to? Oh, who were you kidding, you’d been fantasizing over that man’s fingers and cock being inside of you for months and now that there was a small chance, you felt your body come alive. This shower was supposed to help take your mind off Dean but you hadn’t had sex or touched yourself in months so you decided the best thing to actually clear your mind was making yourself cum. You had the bunker to yourself, right? You could make an hour of it and play with your candles and your vibrating dildo. You were always pretty loud but now there was no reason to be quiet so you made up your mind, shaved everything, and quickly finished showering.

Unbeknownst to you, Dean was 3 doors down to the left, in his room with his head phones on full blast, trying to take a nap. He thought about going back in your room to talk but decided against it. It seemed like you really thought he was turned off by your body and that rubbed him the wrong way. He was pissed off at himself for every making you feel that way and he knows he’s probably made some stupid offhanded comments about weight or size but he’d never ever talked about you. He realizes now the impact of his words on you would be the same regardless of who he was talking about and he truly wishes he could take it all back and start again but he couldn’t and now you were probably still in your room reading your little book and hating his guts.

You skipped over to your room, which was only one door and across the hall on the right, and were about to close the door decided against it. No one is here, why should I close the door?

You decided to let that play into your little voyeurism kink, even though there was no one here to see you, and walked over to your nightstand from which you pulled out a lighter, your dark purple candle, and your 5 inch flesh colored vibrating dildo. You turned it on briefly to make sure it was charged then you set everything on your nightstand and dropped your towel.

You considered turning on some porn on your laptop but decided against it. You were already turned on and fantasizing about Dean would be more than enough.

You laid on your back and the chill of the air came in contact with your warm skin causing you to shiver. You closed your eyes and put your right index and middle fingers in your mouth, you started slow but then you imagined it was Dean’s fingers instead and he wanted to see how well you’d be able to take him so you put your fingers deeper into your mouth and made sure to coat them in spit. You slowly made your way down your chest and then you took your right nipple between your slick fingers and began twisting it. You couldn’t help but moan out loud, imagining it was Dean’s fingers instead of yours. You had only just started playing with yourself but you were already so fucking wet, maybe a minute more and you’ll start dripping on your covers. Knowing how wet you were just imagining Dean made you let go of your right nipple to start playing with your left.

“Oh fuck yes” you moaned out loud and felt yourself dripping down your thighs. God you weren’t a fucking teenager anymore, you were 27 years old, but you knew you weren’t going to last very long. You let go of your nipple and turned over to grab your candle. It was dark purple with sparkles and you knew when the wax hardened, it would look like little galaxies were all over your body. You lit the candle and closed your eyes. You partially liked wax play because of the surprise of the hot wax splattering on your body so you imagined Dean was holding the candle over you saying if you wanted him to make you cum then you’d be a good girl for him while he painted your body. The first blob of wax hit your right upper rib age near your tit and it felt exhilarating. You let out a loud and languid moan as you felt the wax hit your skin then quickly harden you slowly moved the candle a bit more up and center until you felt the next bit of wax fall onto your sternum. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck, thank you,” you moaned with your eyes closed and the Dean in your mind smirked and called you a good girl for thanking him. You kept moving the candle around your torso and your thighs with your eyes closed and moaning at all the utter ecstasy. You were soaked and teasing yourself, working yourself up until you couldn’t take it anymore; you weren’t going to stop until you felt like you had to stuff yourself with your dildo.

Meanwhile, Dean was still in his bedroom with no idea of what you were imagining him doing to you just a few doors down. He couldn’t fall asleep so just as he decided to change the CDs in his Walkman, he took his earphones off and faintly heard your voice. He looked at his closed door waiting to hear you again. Did you call out to him? Probably not, you were pissed and the undefeated champ of holding a grudge so he knew you wouldn’t be talking to him for a few days at lea—

“Oh fuck, oh fuck”

Okay that was definitely your voice, loud and clear. And it kind of sounded like you were in pain? He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t taking any chances. He jumped up from his bed, grabbed his handgun, and slowly and quietly opened his door. He started making his way down the hallway to your room. Your door was open so all he had to do was aim and then he’d be able to kill whatever was harming you. Dean briefly leaned by your door frame, gun raised and ready, then he turned to look in your room and —

“Oh yes, right there oh fuck” You moaned loudly. Your right index and middle fingers were fingering your pussy and your hand and covers looked soaked. The way you had both of your feet for purchase on the bed and your knees open and bent perfectly framed the scene as you quickly fucked yourself with your fingers. Dean dropped his arm, gun in hand, but he couldn’t look away. He knows he should leave and pretend he never saw this, but he was mesmerized. Your skin was painted purple and in that moment he swore that became his new favorite color. He could hear the wetness of your pussy clenching around your fingers and very quickly felt his jeans were too tight.

You blindly started searching for something on the bed and when Dean saw you grab a dildo that looked very similar to himself, albeit a couple of inches shorter, he couldn’t help but imagine he was about to fuck you and he nearly moaned.

“Oh fuck, I’m not going to last long” you moaned and the Dean in your mind only looked at you and smirked, telling you you’d take whatever he gave you while the actual Dean looked down and saw himself tenting in his jeans. He should leave, he thought, but when you lined up the dildo with your hole and practically shouted out how fucking good it felt to finally be filled as you stretched yourself out, he knew there was no earthly or godly force that could take him out of that room. The slick sounds of you fucking yourself hard and fast coupled with the loud and dirty moans falling from your lips were making Dean dizzy. He lightly palmed himself over his jeans for slight relief but then you turned on the vibration and the way your moans got higher and airier, he knew you’d be cumming soon and his cock only stiffened in his pants.

“I’m gonna cum, oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you called out and Dean swears his brain stopped functioning for a second. All he could see, hear, or think about was you. Your face slightly scrunched as you came and your moans were nothing short of pornographic. Porn was now ruined, Dean knew that you were the only thing that could ever satisfy his desires now. You slowly stopped fucking yourself with the dildo, turned off the vibrator, and threw it on your bed. You looked completely and utterly relaxed. Your breathing was quick, there was a slight sheen of sweat mingled with purple all over your body, and your chest was falling up and down up and down but you looked pretty? No that didn’t do the scene before him justice, you were “beautiful”

Your eyes sprung open the second you heard the word. You saw Dean standing there and you screamed while grabbing at anything and everything to cover yourself.

“No, no I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Dean yelled as he ran out of your room and into his. He quickly locked the door and ran to his bed while you ran up from your bed to lock your door. Your reprieve from all the madness was very short lived when you discovered you weren’t alone. You wanted to be mad that Dean was there and you almost allowed yourself to be self conscious about your body but you recall seeing the large tent in Dean’s pants and decided against it. Who knows how long he’d been watching you for, it doesn’t matter, because he was massively turned on regardless. You were filled with a confidence you’d never known before so you grabbed your black robe, tied it around your body, fully covering yourself and made your way to Dean’s room.

Your loud knock made Dean jump in his bed, he was trying to think how he was going to apologize himself out of this one but now you were at his door and you were probably going to kick his ass all while he still had a boner. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry” he yelled hoping that was enough to deter you for now but you kept incessantly knocking.

“Open the door Dean.”

“Can we please please talk later. Later, I promise” no woman had ever terrified or turned him on like you did. Here he was suffering the consequences of his actions while he was the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.

“Open the door, right now Dean Winchester.”

Dean was getting up to obey your order before he even realized what he was doing. He unlocked his door, ran back to his bed, and grabbed a pillow to cover his cock. You heard the click of the door unlocking and then a small shuffle. You opened the door and saw Dean sitting on his bed with a pillow covering his massive erection. When Dean saw you in that robe, imagining you were still naked underneath, he felt his cock throb and had to look away. You walked into the room like you owned it and closed the door. You walked over to Dean’s desk and sat at the comfy chair he had there.

“I’m so sorr—”

“Stop apologizing Dean. Get up,” You ordered and you saw Dean struggle with staying seated or obeying you.

“Why?” He questioned in a small voice. Here was a 6’3 hunter who was scared of nothing, looking terrified of you.

“Because we’re going to make things even”

“What do you mean? Uh I don’t think -” he began but you cut him off.

“I’m not telling you to think, I’m telling you to obey. Now get up.” You stared into his beautiful green eyes and he knew better than to test you.

“Now. As I said, we’re going to make things even. I’m going to walk you through getting undressed and then you’re going to touch yourself until you make a mess all over yourself. Got it?”

Dean immediately stood up straight and knew he would do everything and anything you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am”

“No that’s no way of addressing me. Do better.” You saw Dean’s eyes slightly glaze with what you could only describe as submission and desire.

“Yes Goddess.”

Who wants part 2?!?!?? Leave a comment if you do pleaseeeeeee <3

[trash-king18]

M pt. 1

disclaimer: before i say anything else, this was inspired by another persons post and i have been trying desperately to find it to ask for permission to post this. so if the creator finds this or someone knows what i’m talking about please tell me so i can tag them for credit or take it down if they want. Part 1 is almost entirely inspired by what i read but the rest is my work.

summary: reader is 26 and puerto rican from Brooklyn on her earth, she and Miguel are coworkers and they have an intense working relationship. plot takes place a couple months before the events of Across the Spider Verse

cw: 18+ minors dni, swearing, suggestive, angst, miguel is seemingly not in his right mind because of the spider dna and gets a little rough.

note: reader is spanish speaking, translations in italics under any and all spanish. however i picked up my spanish from puerto rican girls i played volleyball with in highschool and am trying to learn (because i’m going to be a tia soon!! and i want to make sure mis sobrinos y sobrinas grow up with the language) so if you’re fluent and things are wrong lo siento/sorry and feel free to correct me

2619 words

this is my first time writing or posting anything, be nice🫶🏼

————

you and Miguel always had a different connection than everyone else at HQ. in the endless universes a surprising few spider people spoke spanish or were even not white. you were often spotted bickering ~en español~, and you enjoyed being the only one he allowed to talk back to him. you wouldn’t say you were friends, Miguel didn’t have friends, but you had more leeway with him than everyone else.. except probably lyla 

everyone thought he was just broody but to you he was a broody overgrown man child with a superiority complex and you never failed to take an opportunity to tell him off. 

—

“déjalo ya”

knock it off

he rolls his eyes turning his head away from you in every direction like a toddler that doesn’t want to eat the food on the spoon. 

he gets cranky on extraction days

“do i need to do the airplane”

he scowls at you 

right now you’re in the exam room in the back of your lab, there’s nothing much in there just the exam chair and the specialized vials you use for extracting and storing his venom. it was soundproofed and locked from the inside, per miguel’s request. 

he was a very private person. when he brought you onto the team to create an injection to help keep him.. subdued he was very specific that it be kept between you two 

“you’re extra grumpy today, what’s wrong jefe”

boss

“no te preocupa”

it doesnt concern you 

you turn to look at him skeptically but his eyes are hard set and while he allows you to tease him within these four walls, emphasis on allows, you know better than to push especially when he hasn’t had an injection in a while

“ahora vamos, let’s get this over with”

cmon now

“do we have to do this today i’m really very busy”

“si! now open”

you push the viles up towards his face hoping he’ll just cooperate. but as per usual, no such luck 

he pushes your hands away over and over 

you sigh in exasperation 

“seriously?”

you feel like you’re trying to get your nephew to eat his peas 

he just looks at you smirking slightly, he thinks he’s won. 

“eso es suficiente por hoy.”

that’s enough for today

he starts to get up, but if there’s one thing that always works when your sobrinos are acting up it’s letting your inner tia out 

“Miguel O’hara! usted no es un bebé, así que deja de actuar como uno! ahora siéntate.”

you are not a baby so stop acting like one, now sit 

he stops in his tracks and sits back down. he looks sort of shocked, you’ve never actually yelled at him, you don’t think anyone’s yelled at him in years, but he is particularly frustrating today. 

he grumbles under his breath like a boy who got scolded by his mama 

“lo siento” 

im sorry

you turn around to put gloves on since your sure he’s going to make you do this the hard way. you expect you’ll have to hold them in place so he doesn’t try and take them out early 

“eres insoportable”

you’re unbearable 

“what was that?”

you breath out. 

“nothing”

your back is still turned so you can’t see his bemused half smile

you turn back around with the viles in your hand again and he’s no longer smiling. you can never tell if he hates doing this because its uncomfortable, it wounds his pride, or he hated being vulnerable but you assumed all the above. but he’s a grown man, a very large very attractive, grown man. who also happens to be the most disagreeable person you’ve ever met. 

“you gonna cooperate now?”

“i make no promises”

he smirks 

you scowl and it drops off his face immediately 

apologetic was a new look on him, it was sort of hot. 

too bad it didn’t last.

“seriously though, Y/N, i have a lot to do right now I really don’t have time for this”

“well if you’d actually do it yourself like i asked we wouldn’t have to do this”

he looks at you unimpressed. he knows and you know that as soon as he wants to get up he will and there’s nothing you can do. but he has one bottle of the suppressant left and he’s not the only one feeling stubborn today. 

as soon as you try to get him to bite the vials again he starts resisting you.

“Y/N stop”

you ignore him 

“Y/N.” he warns you 

“just sit still”

“No! will you—“

you cut him off by climbing on top of him and trying to force his hand off to the sides. it worked.. for a second 

until he grabs your wrists and just stares at you in shock. 

“really?”

“I-“ you stutter his red eyes are staring into you 

his hands still gripping your wrists but you steady yourself

“abrir”

open up 

“no.”

you put on your best tia voice again

“~Miguel~”

he raised his brow at you 

he relents and let’s go of your hands 

but he doesn’t open his mouth 

you wait expectantly but he turns his head away again

you give him an annoyed look he looks at you out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t turn back 

“don’t make me pry your mouth open”

“id like to see you try”

“you know what spider boy i’ve had enough of your attitude today”

you start to climb off 

“just get out of my chair”

but your surprised when he stops you, you feel his hands on your hips. 

you look back at him and practically growl 

“what now”

now it’s his turn to be surprised. he doesn’t let go of you but you feel his hands loosen. 

“I- im sorry”

never in a million years did you think you’d hear  miguel o’hara apologize to anyone but he seems genuine. 

“i just.. i don’t- i don’t like-” 

“save it. i don’t care about your feelings and i’m not here to help you work through your emotional constipation i just want to get this done.”

he stares at you and you fully expect him to just pick you up off him and leave… but he just starts laughing. another thing you didn’t expect to hear. it’s a full laugh leaving his fangs exposed 

you just sit there staring at him confused 

“guess i’m not the only grumpy one today huh”

but instead of making a sarcastic quip you took the opportunity and leaned forward with one gloved hand and peal his upper lip up and put the viles on his fangs before he can react. 

he mumbles trying to talk with the viles in his mouth 

“que diablos!”

what the hell

he tried to pull your arm away from his face but you swat his hand away 

he grumbles a series of curses but you hold the viles in place 

“cállate.”

shut up

you use your thumb to tug his lower lip down slightly to make sure his lower fangs are in good condition. he finally sits still but you can feel his hot breath, you know he’s not happy. 

but you couldn’t care less. 

as you wait for the venom to finish dripping from his fangs you become aware of how compromising a position the two of you are in. his hands are resting on your thighs and youve propped yourself on his chest with your hands 

not to mention the lowlights in the room because of his headaches. 

his eyes are closed, he refuses to look at you. 

the tension is thick and you desperately want to get off but you don’t trust him not to pull the viles off so you pretend to check the wrest of his teeth.. which are perfect of course. 

he shifts under you and you can’t help but notice the creases in his forehead. you almost feel bad. 

he’s not like the other spider people, he’s literally half spider. which gives him heightened senses and insane reflexes, but sometimes it also means his emotions and actions can get out of his control. that’s what the suppressor was for, helped him keep hold of the reigns but you know he didn’t like having to do it this way. 

unfortunately for him, his venom was the base for it and you couldn’t make it without it. 

finally the vials were filled and you go to take them off. he cracks his jaw while you seal them. you place them in the pocket of your lab coat. 

“now. was that so bad?”

he rolls his eyes

you sense that you may have pushed too far this time so you move to get up but he holds you in place. 

“just so we’re clear—“

his eyes darken 

“don’t. do that again”

your breath catches. you nod and start to shift but he holds you in place 

“and Y/N”

you look at him warily 

he grabs your chin and leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear

“never call me spider boy”

you say nothing 

he smiles against your ear 

“comprendida?”

understand 

you let out a shaky breath 

“si”

he holds you like that

“miguel?”

“shhh”

he hushes you as he slowly moves down and ghosts over the skin of your neck with his lips 

he opens his mouth and gently runs his fangs over your skin 

you let out a light breathy moan before you can stop yourself 

your face flushes but he doesn’t let go 

“are you going to bite me… spider boy”

he growls against your skin 

you know it’s stupid but even after seeing him at his worst and most untamed you have a hard time believing he would hurt you intentionally 

but still you shouldn’t have teased you were just in shock that this was actually happening. 

“i told you—“

“not to call you that? you may be my boss miguel o’hara but i will not let you tell me what to do”

his grip on your chin tightens slightly but it’s not bruising  

his hand holds the crease of your thigh 

he chuckles deeply 

“would you like to test that”

he pulls back to look at you 

“niña bonita”

pretty girl 

he looks at you through his eyelashes with those scarlet eyes his hair falling into his face and fangs just slightly peaking out over his lips 

he starts to question himself internally 

but you just whisper 

“eres tan hermoso Miguel”

you’re so beautiful 

now he’d never admit it but hearing you say his name always made him feel some type of way. like he wanted to hear you say it.. over and over

and the entire time you we’re on top of him he was fighting to keep his breathing under control 

he’s still holding your chin 

he holds the scowl on his face

inside though he’s just fighting to keep control 

he can smell everything, your vanilla perfume, the sanitizer, the latex, but underneath everything he just smells you. your scent is intoxicating right now,  he had grown used to it, you had been physically close before. but not like this, not when he was like this. 

his brow furrowed in frustration. he hasn’t gone this long without an injection in a long time and it was starting to cloud his head. 

You search his eyes, but they’re closed off as ever. his breath is slowly getting heavier 

you snap him out of it suddenly when he hears his name the second time 

you had spoken softly at first but even though he was looking right at you he didn’t seem to hear you 

“Miguel?… i’m going to get an injection ready..ok?”

you look over him warily 

he just keeps looking at you but he slowly comes back to himself. and you finally notice a tiny spark of something under the annoyance and frustration. 

he’s nervous. 

you knew he hated when he couldn’t control himself, it was the whole reason you had this job. But you had never actually seen it manifest as anything other than a sour attitude. 

“O’hara puedes oírme?”

can you hear me

he blinks hard and drops your face. he clears his throat abruptly 

“si”

“i’m gonna get an injection”

he catches your wrist, it’s quick but gentle 

“no”

he’s staring into your eyes intensely 

“save it until the new batch is ready, i’m going to need it.”

“you need it now”

“ay will you just listen to me for once for once por favor”

he holds your wrist and moves so that you have to look at his eyes. you know he’s right, which is infuriating 

you huff 

“fine.”

his lip quirked slightly, satisfied that you actually listened for once

you sit there for a moment in awkward silence before he finally drops his soft hold on your wrist and you awkwardly clamber off, a difficult task considering how… large he was. 

you go to the counter and start to get the viles ready. 

he doesn’t move from the chair  just watches you work. 

you can feel his eyes on you. 

“uhm i’ll have the next round ready by tomorrow morning, so you’re good to go.”

you don’t hear him get up, of course. you never understood, half spider or not, how such a large man could move without being seen or heard. 

you just feel his presence behind you. 

he doesn’t say anything. 

“seriously o’hara out of my lab”

he could tell you were frustrated with him, which wasn’t unusual but now it lacked the usual playfulness. 

he finally speaks. 

“it’s late.”

“i’m aware”

he sighs in frustration 

“i mean— it’s late. you should go home.”

“im good.”

you know as frustrating as you insist on being i am  still your boss and i am telling you to go home. this can wait until the tomorrow.

you turn around

“that’s not up to you.”

“oh it’s not?”

“no. you brought me here to develop this serum but you also did it because deep down you don’t trust yourself not to do something you’ll regret”

he grabs you again and snarls in your face. 

too far. 

and yet today you don’t care something, maybe not an entirely innocent something, just wanted to egg him on more than usual. 

“see?”

“no trates de decirme por qué hago lo que hago”

do not try to tell me why i do what i do 

you just stand there inches away from one another. he towers over you. you don’t back down and he doesn’t let go. he’s seething, you’re done with his bullshit 

but you’re trapped. not just by his body but his eyes. you feel like a bug caught in his web. 

your eyes dart to his lips and back. 

he notices, you know he can feel your heartbeat quicken, he can probably sense the flush on your kneck. 

and your certain he feels the chills creep down your spine as he leans in closer. 

you whisper 

“que estás haciendo?”

what are you doing 

he leans in more so your lips are almost touching before answering 

“no lo sé”

i don’t know 

you lean into it just enough that your lips ghost over one another. your arm slips up so your hand can grab the back of his neck. 

your lips chase one another gently but never quite touch. 

you’re so close. it’s taking every last ounce of restraint not to just pick you up and indulge every thought racing through his mind. but he knows he can’t, not right now, not like this. 

he pulls back so suddenly you almost fall over 

“go home, you can finish tomorrow.”

“i- wha- o’hara what the fuck?”

he storms out of your lab without another word leaving you breathless and confused. 

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: One day maybe they'd look up and see the musician who's been playing his guitar just for them instead of hopelessly chasing after a love that had long died out. A/N: Yes, it's based off That XX by G-Dragon. Apologies to all Bakugo fans out there for making him the villain... WARNINGS: Quirkless AU where Hitoshi is a street musician and reader has been with Bakugo since high school

I was walking down the street when I saw your man (Yeah, I saw him)

Everyone knew the dark blue-haired street musician who sat by the fountain every day and the person his eyes, outlined by black rings, would always be staring at while some song of longing and life strummed out from his guitar.

I saw that my predictions were right (I told you)

If someone were to ask why he fell in love head over hells for a complete stranger whom he knew nothing about, he’d answer in either two ways: an inability to do so or expound on a very detailed lecture on the fractured glimpses of you he’d caught over time.

Something about the way you clicked with the stray cats who rushed to your side, meowing for attention and you’d give it with no hesitation (would you play with his hair like that one day? he grew extremely flustered at the thought). A fellow cat lover, for one.

Something in that grin you’d send effortlessly to everyone and everything, in the worst of weather, at the most cranky of people, to those pretty flowers turning their head up to the sunshine like you. Everything made you so happy, it seemed. Hitoshi liked that, a stark contrast to his resentful, depressive personality.

Something along the line of how you made him feel seen. Most people just listened to him play and walk on, never bothering to show a little appreciation or acknowledgement, but you’d point him out to whoever you were with, beam at him and toss him some coins. You were the reason he got up some mornings to go there and play.

Or maybe it was simply because humans wanted what they could never have.

He took off the ring you gave him and linked his arm around someone

Hitoshi wondered if you knew him like the people who stopped by to hear him play and toss some spare change did - did you know he was even there, or was he just another struggling nameless talent to you? Did you know how he switches to those pining love songs he used to scoff at whenever he spotted you? Did you know how he's been infatuated with you since the day you threw him a smile and all the cash your wallet had, always trying to figure out a way to convey his need to get to know you through his music?

Did you know how much he wished and prayed and dreamt of being the one to be holding your hand, be able to dedicate his lyrics to you, hold you close next to him and giggle like little kids, flip coins into fountains for meaningless wishes, have you beam that brilliant grin at him like you do to the scowling blond that went almost everywhere with you?

I'll just leave it at that (I don't wanna hurt you)

Whether you knew or not, Hitoshi hadn't a clue, but everyone around him did. It was obvious from his starry eyed gaze boring into you like the celestial beings up in the sky weren’t the center of the universe but you. It was clear from the abrupt changes to the song genres whenever you would walk past his particular street. Hitoshi did a crap job at hiding how he’d glance at you (did you hear him? Were you impressed? Please, please, just stop trying to get his attention, he doesn’t treasure it like Hitoshi would) with adoration and a silent plead for approval, recognition, anything when he’d finish and passersby would clap and tip him.

The old lady sitting at the cafe opposite would quietly chuckle and recall the days of young love. The giggly gaggle of teenage girls would squeal and swoon, rooting for the both of you in the background. Even the parents of the park would smile knowingly seeing him. Between the two of you, there was a definitive, unspoken connection sparking.

But it wouldn’t work out. For as long as Bakugo Katsuki was there Shinsou Hitoshi stood no chance.

But you actually get mad at me (Why?)

He constantly puzzled over how you never noticed how Bakugo didn’t return your affections. How could not see the way his phone was more fascinating to him than you? Maybe you didn’t count the number of dates that got cancelled, but surely at some point it was too much to be considered acceptable? When would you stop interlocking your fingers with him and be sad when he didn’t even return the gesture?

What Hitoshi saw most, however, was how Bakugo would never look at you the way you looked at him. No, he only looked at you with indifference and coldness.

If you only just woke up from the daydream you were clinging onto so hard, you’d see Hitoshi’s eyes were the exact mirrors of yours: full of want and wish and just-

Why? Why not love somebody who’d love you right?

But he’d hurt you if he said anything, pointed out anything, when you oh so pathetically refused to see Bakugo how he saw you, so he said nothing.

Saying that there's no way he'd do that (Sure, you're right)

The first time he met you was about half a year ago - half a year of pining over you pining on someone who clearly didn’t love you as much as you did - when he was trying to tune his guitar and was getting annoyed with the loudmouth who was yelling too loudly into his phone for him to hear what he was doing. Frankly everyone was fed up with the shouter but for whatever reason no one told him to shut up.

Okay, Hitoshi was going to be the first.

He glanced up irritably and immediately spotted him, a spiky blond of average height and piercingly furious red eyes screeching into his phone with language vulgar and noisy enough to have every church in the world plot to wash his mouth out with lye soap. The way he was glaring at everyone as he hung up on the poor wretch gave Hitoshi a rather good idea as to why no one had told him to lower it down - not to mention the way his hand was gripping the phone so tightly.

But he digressed, focus wandering to the figure interlocking arms with the blond, embarrassedly urging him to not get so worked up in public. By the looks of it the both of you were a couple and Hitoshi vaguely felt a little sorry for you.

Especially when he heard how the blond simply brushed you off quite rudely, returning his attention to his phone with a shoulder jerk that shook off your hold.

I became aware of you being upset

So that was how he began to know you, at least at the start, as the submissive puppy of a beau that followed the man around (Bakugo Katsuki, he found out, later on when Hitoshi heard him bellowing it into the phone at some schmuck that had spelled his name wrong), always trying to enjoy the park like any other couple. Hitoshi never paid you much mind at first; to him you were just one of those delusional dream-chasers so high on their convictions of love they never noticed it was never really returned.

Then the day came when he finally watched Bakugo impatiently snap at your light question of whether you’d still be heading to that dinner place tonight. You retracted your hand slowly (he didn’t even notice, but if it was Hitoshi he’d promise to never let go of it) and hesitatingly told him you’d give him some space.

He didn’t expect you to sit by the fountain and absently, miserably play with the spray while glancing hopefully back at your lover, but when it was never returned you gave up. Hitoshi pretended not to notice, pulling at some strings to fill the awkward silence.

And I said I must have seen someone else

“Do you take requests?”

“…not really.” Hitoshi hadn’t expected you to speak either, so the words came out rather rushed and patronizing. He backtracked quickly. “I mean, not usually.”

You hummed in reply.

“But if you want I could.” Hitoshi cleared his throat and like usual his horrible, failing humor would pop up to “lighten” the situation. “Something depressing, I’m guessing?”

“Maybe? I dunno.” You tilt your head and side eye him slyly. “Don’t act dumb, I know you saw everything. You’re not exactly the sneakiest with your staring.”

Hitoshi’s ears turned a shade of red bright enough to rival his sneakers. “…sorry about that, but it’s kinda hard not to hear you guys with someone like him.”

“Katsuki’s always been like that,” you shrug listlessly.

“Why’d you stick around then?” nearly fell out of his mouth, but he swallowed it down. That was too rude, and he’d be lying if he said he’d never seen the affection in your touches and love in your eyes when you were around Bakugo. “So, what’s your request?”

You flashed that angelic, sweet smile at him and it was all over.

Yes, I'll lie for you (I'm sorry)

It started out as a small interest, a tiny crush, the mini blush forming on his cheeks when he’d see you wearing something especially good that day. He held himself back from openly expressing anything or further conversing with you though, not when you were taken and while it was obvious that Bakugo could care less about who you spoke to you yourself certainly wouldn’t look twice at any other man. Hitoshi respected the boundaries and never pushed.

Nothing stopped him from thinking about you 24/7, 365 though.

It really made him feel like a creep. He didn’t even know your name. Or your job. Or your hobbies. Or your interests. Or anything really. All he knew was gathered off staring and hoping you’d look his way (he celebrated internally whenever you did, but it was poorly disguised to other onlookers) every other day and that just intensified his belief he was being a stalker and that made him even more unlikeable. Even the sorry excuse of a boyfriend was the better choice here.

He knew what music you liked though, when you told him the tune you requested came from one of your favorite bands, when he’d observe you brighten when he played a specific genre, when you’d tip him a little extra with something in your eyes that said you were relating very hard to that depressive song of being left behind all too well.

Hitoshi wondered if you knew his too.

Oh, I hate you for not knowing me

Maybe the time when the crush really transformed into a full-blown desire happened about a few months back. He was strolling out of a nearby cafe, guitar strapped to his back and coffee in hand, bending down to pet the fluffy black kitten that had started following him around and of course his morning just had to be ruined when yours was.

You were seated by the window, picking at the cake in front of you while you anxiously glanced out and about, so obviously stood up in the way you were practically begging your phone for a notification (why did you chase after a man who would never appreciate you like Hitoshi?). He paused ins his tracks, wondering whether to go over, talk once more, provide comfort (for you he’d try, although his bedside manner was rather lacking), but just then the bell rang violently, harbinger to Bakugo.

I hate this waiting

Hitoshi turned away in disappointment, content to let you slip away once more until he heard the rushed apologies that didn’t sound as sincere as they should be, the broken, belated assurances of rescheduling your date to another time - for now he had somewhere to be and people to meet. He sees Bakugo leave and he decides, you know what? Fxxk it, it’s his turn.

You look up from wallowing in your misery to see a familiar hand slam down a coffee cup on your table. You look up, but whoever they were had already rushing out the door with an equally familiar guitar on their back. A soft laugh escaped you as you see the sticky note hastily stuck on the cup.

Smile, don’t want your face as bitter as the coffee.

Something long lost and forgotten stirs up in you, new butterflies hatching out of their cocoons and old ones waking from their long sleep as you turn the cup to see a name probably written by the barista during the order.

Shinsou. So that was his name.

Please let go of his hand now

Thinking that was that, Hitoshi let himself exhale and his wingman the cat purred, rubbing itself on his legs as if congratulating him for making a move. What was wrong with him, acting like some silly schoolboy mooning over a new student. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked off to his usual perch in the park.

Over the next week Hitoshi continued to see you at the park and the war raging in his head tearing at his heart went on: did you appreciate the drink? Did he accidentally order something you didn’t like? What if you didn’t like him doing this while with Bakugo?

Maybe he was wrong about the last one, for you had started to wave at him. He thought once again that was that, but once again you surprised him when you showed up one day and held out your hand and a breathless “For you”.

When you are sad, I feel like I could die, baby

He blinked and looked down. A guitar pick, blue and purple with a black cat and his name, Shinsou. “Um…what?”

“It’s for you. I mean, you don’t have to take it, I just wanted to thank you for the drink that day, and I noticed you’ve started to play with your fingers instead and that much be painful, so I had a friend who did this sort of customization! And your name was written on the cup, I promise I didn’t stalk it out or whatever, the cat was just because I noticed you petting the stray-”

He cut off your rambling with a brief, genuine smile of his own. “Thanks. I like it a lot.”

(Hitoshi would like anything that came from you, honestly.)

Not a friendship yet, but just a special kind of acquaintance. He’d take it. It was progress, at least.

What does that bastard have that I don't?

Hitoshi had no idea real progress would be coming so soon though.

He’d been trying out a new song that had been trending on social media lately and so far it was bringing him a little extra. The coffee shop had finally brought back his favorite drink and he had finally convinced his dad Aizawa to let him officially adopt the little black kitten, although he and Eri were still arguing over the name. All in all, it was a good day.

But as always if it was a bad day for you, it was a bad day for him.

He spotted you and Bakugo almost immediately as you two came to the park like he did every time, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Bakugo to be frowning it wasn’t normal for you to be. You looked awful, blinking back tears while Bakugo crushed your spirit bit by bit with his blunt words. Hitoshi didn’t mean to listen, he swears, but he couldn’t help it.

Why can't I have you, exactly?

“I just don’t get it, why? Did I do something wrong? I - I know I’m not the best, Katsuki, but if anything - I mean - we’ve been together for so long, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did really love you at first, but I guess over the years I realized we’re not really suited for each other. You’ll find someone more suited for you and I’ll find someone better for me. This is goodbye.”

“…alright. I’m sorry - I’m sorry we didn’t work out.”

“Me too, but that’s just how things are.”

The song finished and Hitoshi had no heart to continue something anything cheerful anymore, not when Bakugo walked off and you plopped down on a nearby bench to bury your face behind your hands as your shoulders shook. Every part of him strained to go and reach out to you, go get angry at Bakugo for you, tell you everything he’s been wanting to say this past months.

That bastard doesn't love you

But how? What was he even supposed to say? Ask how could you have not seen this coming and saved yourself some heartbreak? Comfort and act sad for you when inside he was simmering with joy and delight that this was his chance, his one and only god damned chance?

Tell you with every day Bakugo fell out of love with you, he fell deeper?

Yet that would just hurt you to know that your pitiful devotion to Bakugo being never returned was apparent to everyone around you, so he said nothing.

…he didn't really have to say anything now, did he? There was another way.

Until when are you going to cry like a fool?

The sudden change of song and strumming startled you enough to look his way with wide eyes.

“Expensive cars, pretty clothes, classy restaurants, they suit you well; but that bastard next to you really isn't it. He smiles falsely next to you, he touches your cheeks and hair - but inside, he is definitely thinking of some other girl.” The words flew out easily, without him really thinking. Sure, it wasn’t the exact truth, but he knew this was the one opportunity he was going to get to tell you how he felt all this time watching Bakugo break you down bit by bit with his vanishing “love”. “How could he do that? It's like a sin. As much as you shed tears, I'll treat you better, baby. The pain you handle by yourself, will you share some with me, baby? Please look at me, why don't you know that your love is me? Why are you the only one who doesn't know?”

The worst thing a musician could hear is silence. Hitoshi stared at the ground, heart thundering away at the lack of response. Did you understand? Did you finally understand who really was the one to eternally be in love with you all this while? Did you know how he was so tired of seeing you being treated like that when he knew you deserved better?

“That's a sad song you're singing.”

Hitoshi nearly fainted right there - thank god he didn't fall into the fountain - as you suddenly appeared to sit down and scoot next to him to smile, slightly dimmed by watery eyes (he'd wipe them away, he'd never make you feel that way, if only you'd choose him). “Sad song for a sad someone from a sad boy.”

Something changed right there and he saw it in your eyes. You used to smile at him so brightly but that spark in your eyes were always directed at Bakugo - now they caught alight at him and he knew, he knew, he knew you finally knew too.

You reach over to rifle through the music sheets on his stand, smile a little more genuine this time. “Well…sad someone wants a happier song now and wants sad boy to duet together.”

Everyone knew the dark blue-haired street musician who sat by the fountain from that day on and the center of his affections his eyes, outlined by black rings, would always be staring at adoringly next to him while some song of a slow burn kind of love strummed out from his guitar.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg - chapter 1.3

"so eager to be in a headlock again?"

"only if it's by you."

he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers s2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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It was way after midnight, when a knock on the door made the three women perk up from their seats around the room of the hide-out, waiting for any signs of the guys.

"Valentine, we know you're in there! Open the door!" a strong male voice suddenly rang from the other side, making Soyeon and Cassandra tense with fear of having been caught when Arabella simply waved them off with a knowing look. Walking to the door and crossing her arms. She coughed then.

"H-hello, who is it?" she said in a cranky weak voice. Mimicking an old woman. She peaked through the spyhole, giggling when seeing Jimin's dumbfounded expression. He wasn't the only one who could mess around with the other.

"Bella, open the door," he whined then, getting impatient, "I know it's you!"

She pursed her lips, unlocking the door and assuming a look of innocence again. "Suits you right for always trying messing with me," she huffed when opening it. Making him laugh lightly.

"That's the least I can do since you keep ignoring my concerns of you getting in danger," he shrugged then. "You know I don't want you to act on your own."

"I wasn't on my own. I got some friends helping me."

Her boyfriend gave her a look of pity, stifling a chuckle. "You don't have any friends, my love."

"Hey! What am I then?" A voice that sounded highly offended, was heard from further down the apartment. And he recognised it. His forehead ceased as he stepped inside. Only now spotting the other two girls there. Cassandra giving him a scowl while Soyeon was awkwardly waving at him. And his eyes widened, taken-aback as those two were the last people he'd expected to meet there. "Oh!"

His eyes then went back to his girlfriend, giving her a puzzled look when steps were heard on the staircase. "Ya, Jimin!" Taehyung whisper-shouted then when finally reaching the top of the stairs, "Why are you standing there?" Behind his broad shoulders, Yoongi peeked his head from the side. Both wondering why Jimin was standing there at the entrance hall and not getting inside.

"Did your little prank not work?" the older guy teased as both walked up to him. Their chuckles soon dying down when reaching him and seeing the reason themselves. And the door slowly closed behind them.

"Cassandra, what the hell are you doing here?"

Taehyung was the first one to speak up, clicking his tongue as he frowned at his wife. Causing her to pout. He sighed then when seeing he wasn't getting any answer, turning to Arabella. "Why did you let her come here?"

"Hey, this was not my idea!" the dyed-brunette defended herself. "She blackmailed me!"

"Leave Bella alone," Cassandra interfered then and got up, "I'm an adult and make decisions myself. Bella warned me but it was me who insisted on tagging along."

"Uhm, same for me," Soyeon said then, glancing at the copper-haired girl for a second before also standing up to back her up. "She tried holding us back but we wouldn't."

"That's actually quite cute," Jimin mumbled then with a smile before noticing Taehyung side-eyeing him evily. And he folded his lips, quickly adding, "B-but also very reckless of you."

Yoongi remained quiet all this time. His expression collected contrary to Taehyung's furious one, brown irises on the black-haired girl who was avoiding his glance.

"I assume that fire alarm in the evening that left us all drenched was your doing then." The three nodded. 

"It was the distraction to slide the weapons to you through the door."

"So.." He motioned with his chin to Cassandra and Soyeon. "..does that mean you two helped Arabella in returning our weapons?"

"Actually.." the two older girls exchanged a look, before looking at Soyeon. "I only did the technical part, you know, security cameras, giving directions, creating fake IDs, setting off the alarm for distraction.." Arabella grinned at Jimin then. "So I kept my promise of staying out of danger."

Rolling his eyes, Jimin huffed out a dry laugh. "It's something I guess." He lightly poked her bump then. "But next time stay completely out of it. Okay?" He gave her a pleading smile to which she pouted, mumbling a small 'okay'.

"And I only went to the evidence storage and got the weapons out by putting them into the vent.." Cassandra mumbled then, scratching her arm. She knew that saying it quietly and downplaying it probably wouldn't be enough to distract from how risky her part indeed was and yet, she tried it. Only to obviously fail as Taehyung let out a loud snort. Getting more upset at the thought of her doing all that.

"Seriously? That's one of the most difficult parts and you're unexperienced!"

"Bella couldn't do it because of all the new security measures," Cassandra protested, getting sulkier as she knew he was right but didn't want to admit it, "So yeah, I wanted to help. You got a problem?"

Her challenging look made Taehyung purse his lips. Their intense staring battle making everyone grow quiet, looking at them expectedly. Eventually, he dragged a sigh and gave in, knowing his girl's stubborness too well. "Fine." He walked up to her then, flicking his finger on her forehead then with a grin. She flinched, rubbing the spot while looking at him puzzled. "But this was the first and only time you do something like this. Got it?"

The red-head puffed her cheeks. "Don't tell me what to do.." she mumbled then, causing him to roll his eyes annoyed. 

"New security measures?" Yoongi wondered out loud then in hopes of shifting the subject as that statement had sparkled his own curiosity, "There were more than just the different detention area?"

"Yeah," Arabella slowly nodded then, "Everyone entering a new area was getting checked for any disguises and had to enter codes."

"What would you've done if those two didn't tag along though?"

"I'd have obviously found another way in, like I always do!" she scoffed, folding her arms offended by him implying she'd need help to break in anywhere. Because she didn't and she had originally planned to do it on her own anyway.

"But wait," Taehyung's brows furrowed and he faced Soyeon, "And what did you do?"

Soyeon's eyes widened. She knew her part was probably the most risky one and the thought of Yoongi's reaction to hearing it, terrified her in a way. Her eyes unintentionally peeking at him, catching him staring at her with a questioning look as well.

He might get terribly angry at her. Even if not as much as Taehyung about his wife partaking in this since her and Yoongi weren't nearly as close. It still concerned her. Because depending on how he took the information, he might not want to have anything to do with her anymore.

"I.. I was the one sneaking into the basement area with the fake ID and giving you your weapons.."

Yoongi's breath hinched at this, his eyes falling to the ground. Jaw clenching.

He didn't say anything, growing silent while everyone else was talking across each other then. Not noticing her worrying over the guy who was quietly standing there, avoiding her gaze.

Was he disappointed in her? She couldn't tell.

Honestly, she might've preferred him yelling at her instead.

"Anyway," Jimin spoke up then, clapping his hands and catching everyone's attention. Pointing with his thumb towards the door, "We should get going soon before they notice our absence." He glanced at his watch then. 2:01am. "We got four hours before their patrol time."

"You actually managed escaping without them noticing?" Soyeon asked surprised, to which Taehyung and Jimin laughed, grinning proudly.

"Of course, we ain't thieves for nothing." And with their guns and Yoongi's sword it really wasn't hard. "But that means we don't have much time left." 

They began disgussing possible escape plans to flee the country when Soyeon felt a hand wrap around her wrist, tugging her to another room.

The door closed softly and behind her stood Yoongi. A stoic look on his face.

"So what's your excuse?"

Swallowing, her mind went blank in the attempt to shape any cohesive sentences to defend herself. "My excuse?" she eventually said confused to buy herself some time.

"Yeah, your excuse for doing something irrational as this."

Neither his voice nor his eyes gave off the impression of him being genuinely mad at her. No, they were calm and if she hadn't noticed him pressing his jaw together, she'd have thought he was unaffected by it all. "If it's because I helped you back in Italy - I didn't do it expecting a favour from you. Especially not this kind of favour."

"I know."

She knew he'd never expect anything in return. The girls had told her about the numerous times he'd helped his friends without any questions or favours asked. And she knew he never expected anything back when risking his retirement and life for her either.

And perhaps this was why she felt obligated to do it. Because he deserved others risking it all for him as well.

She watched his brows furrow at her answer. Showing a sign of distress after all. "Then why did you?"

"I could ask you the same," she countered. Feeling quite accomplished when noticing he wasn't going to use his go-to reply. His lips only parted, as if he wanted to say something after all but couldn't bring himself to. Looking away instead.

"I.. I asked first," he mumbled eventually. A gentle smile curving on her lips at his childish act of avoiding answering.

Soyeon wasn't certain where her sudden burst of confidence came from. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe the adrenaline still rushing through her veins. Maybe the fact she was alone with him again for the first time in almost a week. She breathed then, holding his steady eyes with care. "I guess.. we do irrational things for the person we care about. And I care about you. Because.. because you mean something to me. Something I can’t really put into words yet."

A short huff left his lips as they tried their best not to curl into a smile. She wouldn't get away with it so easily, he wouldn't just let it slide. Or let it get into his head, the fact she had just admitted to having feelings for him.

"That's a pretty dumb reason, still."

"It's good enough for me though."

His irises met her feline eyes. It felt as if someone slapped him across his face, feeling a sudden rush spreading inside his chest. And he stepped forward to close the gap between them. Cupping her cheeks and lightly squeazing them between his warm palms. Making a little pout appear on her cherry-lips. Her heart racing faster against her chest as she held his gaze. Getting lost in it.

His eyes flickered over her face then, over the healing wound that would hopefully not turn into a scar, her sparkly eyes, her rosy cheeks, her plush lips. Lingering on the latter a bit longer.

"Maybe I did it for the same reason," he breathed then. Seeing her eyes widening, blood rushing through her veins. "Did you?"

He bit back a smile, caressing her cheek with a thumb. "I did."

He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes. Everything around them falling apart when his lips met hers. 

They had kissed before, but this time felt different. It felt deep and desperate. Determined and fierce. Soft and gentle. Everything all at once. Pulling the air from her lungs. And she gave into it,  her body reacted instinctively as it remembered the touch of his lips. Pulling him closer and returning the kiss with equal passion.

Feeling her small hands gripping on the fabric around his waist brought him back to his senses as he'd got lost in the taste of her for a moment.

He retreated for a fraction of an inch, still close enough so she could feel his warm breath on her lips. He was breathing heavily. She carefully blinked her eyes open, seeing him already looking at her. Voice filled with sorrow at his following words.

"I'm gonna miss you."

And Soyeon's heart burst inside her ribcage. Reality crushing down like a sudden downpour. No, like a wave hitting the shore.

This had been a goodbye kiss.

He was returning to Taiwan, while she had to stay back in Seoul.

And tears formed in her eyes at the realisation of the situation.

"Silly girl, why are you crying?" he whispered. Not able hiding his own sadness in his eyes.

"I'm gonna miss you, too."

He nodded quietly, wiping the tears from her flushed cheek. "It's better like this, trust me."

"I highly doubt it," she smiled in agony.

He dragged a sigh. "You are better off without someone like me. You deserve a normal life, Soyeon. A happy life. Not a chaotic one."

"I can make my own decisions," she quietly said, repeating Cassandra's words from earlier, "I could just come with you if I wanted.."

"You don't want that." He shook his head lightly, disapproval in his expression. "If you disappeared now, they'd know you were involved in this."

Truthfully, she hadn't thought of that possibility. However, did she even care at this point?

"S-so what?"

"Don't - don't do something you might regret later just for me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line when another silent tear rolled down her flushed cheek.

"It's okay," he said then. His smile not meeting his eyes. "You got your life here. Your job, your family, your friends. You'll get over it."

"I don't -" she choked out, more tears threatening to escape, "I don't wanna get over you."

And he looked at her with equal anguish in his eyes because truth was, he didn't want to get over her either. But he knew he eventually had to, it was better this way. Even when his chest was burning with ache.

And in a swift move he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Crandling her body against his as tightly as he could. A lump forming in his throat, hindering him from saying anything that was on his mind. And he felt her sobs against his chest while her own arms embraced him, clutching onto him. Making everything hurt only more.

"Yoongi? Where are you guys? We need to head to Incheon, there's a ship leaving in two hours for Keelung!"

He swallowed when hearing his friend's voice calling for him from the other side of the door and he stepped back. Placing a gentle kiss on the wound on her forehead. Yoongi didn't want to kiss her goodbye, he wanted to kiss her goonight - there was a huge difference. But he couldn't allow himself to.

And she breathed in his scent for the last time, trying memorising it along with the warmth of his body for the many sleepless nights that she was sure would follow. 

"Goodbye, Yoongi."

"Goodbye, angel."

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The cold sea wind brushed over Yoongi's tired face which was resting on his folded arms on the railing, tousling his long strands. Absentmindedly, he was staring at the infinite black and blue. The early morning hours added a gloomy colour to the cloudy sky and his soul. 

They'd need over a day to reach Taiwan by ship, but considering they had stolen someone else's reservation on that cruise ship, misleading them into thinking te trip was canceled and security measures weren't as strict as at airports - with far less cameras around as well - interpol most likely wouldn't find out they had chosen that rather old-school and slow method to get back. At least they hoped they wouldn't do so in time.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the cold metal bars. About to go back inside and escape the numbing chilliness of the open sea, when he spotted Taehyung approaching him. Hands shoved in his pockets as he came to a halt beside him. Eyes staring out into the sea.

"Couldn't sleep either?" the younger man asked then. To which Yoongi only dragged a sigh.

"Not really, no."

Taehyung hummed, inspecting him carefully before his gaze returned to the sea. "You know, I understand why you did it."

"Did what?"

"Broke things off with her before it developed to something more." It wasn't hard to tell why Yoongi was so restless. Taehyung might not have been as great in analysing people and seeing right through them as Jimin, but it hadn't been hard for him to tell something was off when Yoongi and Soyeon had come out of that room. It'd been written all over their faces, their red eyes giving it away.

Taehyung's gaze then fell on the waves underneath them, created by the ship as the older guy remained silent. "Remember I did the same with Cas back then. Or at least tried to.. Although you have a benefit I didn't have at that time."

Yoongi's brow perked up at this, glancing at him curiously. "Which is?"

His lips pulled into a wide lopsided smirk. "You aren't an active criminal anymore, living a peaceful life in a country interpol can't catch you. I didn't have that back then."

His friend shrugged, not really seeing the benefit in that. "My life might not be as dangerous as it used to anymore. And the danger this time came from her side, not mine. But still.. you can't predict what might happen. With people like us.. do we ever truly retire?" He glanced at him and Taehyung caught the glimpse of a tear in his eyes. "And I couldn't ask her to just throw away her life back there, just to come with me and see where things might go. Because it might not go anywhere in the end and what then?" He let out a dry laugh. "Then she'd have thrown her life away for nothing."

"You ain't 'nothing' though," Taehyung replied with a stern tone, patting his shoulder, "And I don't think she'd have risked getting involved in this if there was nothing."

Licking over his cold lips, Yoongi let out a sarcastic hum. He knew Soyeon's reason. She had told him after all, but he didn't plan to simply share it with everyone. It'd feel like boasting and he didn't want that. Because it didn't change his mind. He didn't want her to endanger herself like this for him, no matter her feelings.

"Whatever her reason was," he carefully spoke up then, "It was still reckless."

"Oh, definitely!" Taehyung exclaimed, chuckling, "I'm still hella mad at Cas about it. But what happened, happened. I only hope I'll never get nicked like this again. Knowing her she might do it again now that she tasted blood."

"Guess that's the minus of having a wife who's so enthusiastic about that profession."

Taehyung laughed under his breath. "Hm, her reason was quite childish actually," he said amused, "Arabella told her Soyeon persisted in helping. So Cas got a lil' jealous and wanted to join as well. You'd think a grown-ass medical doctor wouldn't behave like a child.. anyway." He shook his head with a half-hearted laugh, still mad whenever he reminded himself about it. And yet, he couldn't deny how much he admired his girl's braveness. And it also flattered him how Cassandra had risked getting caught to save him, just like he'd do for her.

Yoongi remained silent. His gaze wandering to the raising sun somewhere behind the horizon. Tinting the clouds in specks of orange.

All this time he'd assumed Soyeon had only agreed on this because of the other two women. He never thought she'd actually been the one initiating it, even persuading Cassandra to it. Proving to be a far better and selfless person than he already knew she was. And still, it didn't change anything. Her life was in Seoul, his was in Tainan.

Maybe in another life, a different universe, where he was a music producer also living a normal life in Seoul, they could be together. And that thought somewhat comforted him when he returned to his cabin. Falling asleep to the thought of her.

»»»

next chapter: 1.4 here

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[master-sass-blast]

Happier to Be Wrong.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Chapter One, Part Five: Chapter Two, Part Five: Chapter Three, Part Six: Chapter One, Part Six: Chapter Two, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen

Summary: "She knows the signs. Inconsistent affection in public or private, not initiating dates or outings, seeming lack of interest in progressing the relationship as a whole…

She’s learned. She’s wiser now. And she’s not going to get caught off guard –not going to get hurt–the same way again."

AKA talking about feelings and trauma is hard, part one.

Pairing(s): Lin Beifong x Reader.

Rating: T for arguing and some intense emotional stuff.

Word count: 6.8k.

She’s not too big to admit her faults. She can be uptight. She likes order and routine to the point of erring on the side of rigidity. She can be icy, which gets worse if she’s pissed. She’s got a short temper in certain areas; a poor tolerance for stupidity and bullshit, if you will.

Toph had called her a “grumpy little badgermole,” back when she was seven and cranky over other kids constantly cutting lines at school.

Tenzin had called her pessimistic. So had Kya and Bumi. So had Su, and Toph, and Aunt Katara, Uncle Sokka, Uncle Aang, Saikhan, Riyu–

“Pessimistic” was the one she refused to concede. It was hardly pessimistic to prepare for the worst –especially since it happened so often! Especially considering her line of work! It was hardly pessimistic to be cautious and prudent.

And it was hardly fucking pessimistic when she was usually right.

She knows the signs. Inconsistent affection in public or private, not initiating dates or outings, seeming lack of interest in progressing the relationship as a whole…

The first one had been easy to spot with Tenzin, back in the day. She hadn’t argued about it at the time, though. She’d put her blinders on, chalked it up to stress with Air Nomad stuff, and kept plowing through life and work alike. However, she’d missed the other two with him. She’d been so busy with work and trying to make her career that she’d just… let things go. They’d always pick things up back later –or so she thought. She thought they’d have the time.

She’s learned. She’s wiser now. And she’s not going to get caught off guard –not going to get hurt–the same way again.

...

She’d called you earlier and asked to talk; no sense in avoiding –delaying–the obvious. You’d said yes, she’d ended the call because she still had work to do, and… that’d been it.

It’s been a few months since the two of you started officially seeing each other. Summer is waning into autumn; it’s cold enough in the evening now that she needs a coat if she goes out. 

She turns the collar of her peacoat up when a particularly icy breeze snakes around her. The wind’s been coming from the North lately, cooling the city as winter draws closer. Part of Lin –a part of her that she doesn’t acknowledge often–wonders if the cooling temperatures are a sign. Cooling seasons, cooling romance, bullshit like that. She scowls and walks faster. It doesn’t mean anything. Facts decide outcomes, not coincidental circumstances.

She regrets not driving over. She’d taken a tram part of the way, then opted to walk the rest of the way. She’d thought –hoped–that the walk would help take some of the edge off her mood. Instead, all it’s done is given her more time to overthink things. Maybe it’s better just to end things right now. Avoid something more drawn out and painful. She rounds the corner to the street your apartment complex is on and sighs. No, no. Talk to her first, then decide. The most facts make for the best decisions.

You’re waiting for her in the lobby –both unexpected and somewhat unwelcome; she was hoping to have the elevator ride to focus and try –probably fail–to calm her remaining nerves.

Lin stops short, surprised. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey.” You offer her a soft, if concerned smile. “What’s up? You sounded pretty serious on the phone.”

Can’t imagine why. Lin purses her lips, then nods towards the elevator; one thing she never wants to repeat again is a public break up. “Let’s head up.”

You hook your arm around hers once the elevator doors close. You lean against her, cushioning your head against her shoulder. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“Passable,” Lin grunts. She doesn’t want to be rude –she really, truly doesn’t–but the thought of making fucking small talk right now, with how things are, makes her want to puke. Don’t fucking act like you don’t know what’s going on. You’re smarter than that.

Patience. If there’s one thing nearly forty years on the force has taught her, it’s patience. She’s witnessed countless interrogations and stakeouts fizzle down the drain from getting too emotional or jumping in too soon; fights in relationships aren’t all that different, really.

“Well, you said you wanted to talk,” you declare once you close your apartment door behind both of you. You flip the lock, then shrug when she turns to look at you. Your expression’s tighter now, and you’re not moving into her personal space again; you’ve picked up that something’s wrong. “What’s up?”

Lin stares at you for a moment, both to collect her thoughts and study you. You’re shifting from foot to foot, and you’ve got your lower lip tucked between your teeth, but you’re not avoiding her gaze. You’re more on alert, but not guilty, per se.

She can’t decide whether to be angry or curious. She jams her hands into the pockets of her coat and ambles further into your apartment. “Have you been happy while we’ve been together?”

You sputter. Your eyes go wide. “What –what kind of question is that?”

“It’s the one I’m asking,” Lin replies, careful to keep her voice neutral and steady.

“I –yes. Of course I have!” You smile, but it quickly fades as you assess her with a look of dawning fear. “Have… have you not been happy?”

She has to bite the tip of her tongue to keep from automatically reassuring you. Focus. Eye on the target. “You’re happy with how things are? Between us?”

“...Yes,” you answer after a moment of bewildered silence. “I am.” Your brows draw together, and you angle away from her slightly. “Why –why are you asking me any of this? What’s going on?”

She shrugs. “Just piecing things together.”

Your eyes narrow. You go quiet, still, as you watch her. Then, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You lean back against the lip of your kitchen counter. “Fuck’s sake, Lin.”

It’s her turn to narrow her eyes. “What?”

“Okay.” You purse your lips in an angry approximation of a smile, then lower your hand and level her with a hard stare. “What we’re not doing… what you’re not going to do to me is treat this like a damn interrogation.”

“I am not–”

“You’re asking leading questions out of nowhere, you aren’t answering my questions when I ask you anything, and you’re not telling me what’s actually going on, what you’re feeling, or what the hell even started all of this in your mind,” you interject, ticking off each item on your fingers. “That’s not a conversation, that’s a damn interrogation. And what I am not okay with is you treating me like you’re a cop!”

Lin scowls. “I am a cop.”

“Not in our relationship you’re not!” you snap, eyes flashing with frustration. “Not with me, you’re not!” You close your eyes, force yourself to take a deep breath, and when you speak again, it’s apparent you’re trying to force yourself to stay calm. “You’re not a cop here.” You open your eyes and fix her with a pleading, hurt look. “You’re just Lin.”

Her heart catches against her ribs at the way your voice breaks on her name. She has to look away to keep her resolve from crumbling. “If you’re not okay with how I am–”

“If this is ‘how you are,’ then you can walk out that door until you have your head back on straight and decide to treat me like a damn person!” you snap, pointing stiffly at the door to your apartment. “I don’t care that you’re the Chief of Police, I don’t care how long you’ve been on the force, and I don’t care that you’re my girlfriend in this context. None of that gives you the right to browbeat me, especially not in my own fucking apartment!”

“Water is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things.”

Right, Lin thinks, bitterly amused. Waterbenders flow with change –until they transform into a tidal wave and flatten you against the ground.

This isn’t how she wanted things to go (believe it or not). She really, truly didn’t want to hurt you or make you angry. All she wanted was some fucking clarity on just what was going on between the two of you –or, failing that, opening things up so you could take the out and let her try to move on. But you’re not taking the out –not even when you’re clearly angry with her. You’d told her that she could leave, but caveated it with “until you have your head back on straight.” Meaning, as far as Lin can tell, that you’re not interested in ending things.

Yet. Lin sighs and closes her eyes. I’m so fucking tired.

The instinct to run is there. She feels like a wild animal faced with a forest fire. The world is burning around her, there’s a clear path to safety, and every instinct she has is screaming to get the fuck out. However, she’s a Beifong. No, more than that, she’s Lin. And she has never approached anything in her life with the attitude of a coward.

Lin opens her eyes and looks over at you.

You’re watching her, arms crossed over your chest. Your expression’s stormy, lips pursed into a frown and eyebrows drawn together. But you’re not tapping your foot. Not checking the clock. And while she was processing, you weren’t huffing, or trying to get her attention. You’re waiting. Watching. Seeing what she’ll do next before you make a choice.

Probably more than I deserve. Lin grimaces, then does her best to gather her thoughts again. Okay, new plan. Just… try to figure this shit out.

She needs clarity. She needs to know why the fuck you act all distant around her in public but not in private. She needs to know if you’re aware of it, if there’s an explanation, or if you’re just fucking with her. She needs to know if you’re in or you’re out. Spirits, Lin’s never been good at gentle, or graceful –but all you seem to be asking for is straightforwardness, and she can do that.

She swallows hard, then undoes the buttons on her coat and takes it off. She drapes it over her arm, then walks stiffly over to your couch and sits. She leans forward, braces her forearms against her knees, then says it. “You act like you don’t want to be together.”

Your eyes widen. “I–”

“From where I’m standing –from what I can see–you do.” She stares at you, watches as the meaning of her words sink in and you go quiet, then continues. “You…” She sighs, then rubs the back of her neck. “You’re hot and cold. You’re all over the place. You never initiate dates –and when we do go out, you act like you’re scared to be seen with me. Like you don’t want me to touch you. But it’s not an affection thing, because when we’re in private, you’re all over me.” She pauses for a moment, waits to see if you’ll say anything.

You stay silent. Still. Your frown has dropped, and your expression looks braced. It looks like you have tears in your eyes.

Lin purses her lips, but continues. No sense in stopping now. “Maybe… maybe I should’ve been clearer from the start. I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I know I’m not… not the most open person, but…” She stops, mind stalling with resistance to the mere concept of opening up, of explaining any of this. Just fucking say it, Beifong. “I –I prefer actually… I want a certain level of public affection in a relationship.” She’s sweating. She doesn’t need a mirror to know her face is red. “If… if you were under the impression that I didn’t want you to be affectionate in public…”

You swallow hard, then shake your head. “No. That… no.”

Fuck. Lin does her best to keep her face neutral even as her heart shatters into billions of pieces in her chest. She nods slowly, realization numbing away the grief she knows she’ll feel later. She inhales slowly through her nose, then lets it out while counting to ten. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been clearer from the start.” Her heart clenches tight –ruined as it is–when a fat tear rolls down your cheek. “Maybe–” she clears her throat “–it would be best if–”

You clap one hand to your mouth and let out a choked sob.

She stops. Angi, this blows. She doesn’t want to hurt you –Spirits help her–but there’s no sense in letting things linger if the two of you aren’t compatible. Get it over with. Rip the bandaid off–

“Tui and La, this stupid fucking cycle.”

Lin blinks, startled. Then, she frowns when your words sink in. “What?”

“I mean, you’re not the first girlfriend I’ve had who’s told me this.” You let out a self-deprecating laugh, then snarl in frustration. “You think I’d fucking learn after how many times–”

She recoils, caught off guard by the intensity of your self-directed vitriol. 

You’re ranting now, words rushing together so fast and mixed with sobs to the point that she can barely keep up. “–and maybe I should’ve been the one to be up front, and never let this happen so I didn’t hurt you–”

She says your name, then repeats it louder when you don’t stop. “Slow down, I can’t understand you–”

“–be so fucking naive, I should’ve been realistic about being defective–”

“Stop it!”

Her bark has you cutting yourself off with a gasp. You freeze for a minute. Then, your face and your knees crumple.

Lin’s off the couch and over to you in three long strides. She catches you before you hit the floor and holds you tight as you weep against her shoulder. “Easy. Just slow down and breathe, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you gasp; you’re breathing so fast and hard that you’re bordering on hyperventilating. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Lin replies automatically. “Just breathe–”

“It’s not.” You let out a body wracking, shaking against her, then force out, “I –I hurt you, and I’m so sorry–”

“You didn’t–”

“I made you think that I didn’t want to be with you! That I wasn’t h-happy–”

“Stop interrupting me.” Lin winces at her tone, then tries to gentle her next sentence. “Just –calm down. Please. I don’t want you passing out, okay?” She strokes one hand over your hair, trying her best to soothe you. “Just breathe, sweetheart. Please.”

You listen for a few minutes; your body stabilizes and you shift your feet to hold more of your own weight. Your breathing slows and evens out. Then, you're shaking your head and pulling back so you can see her. “I’m so sorry, Lin–”

“You don’t–”

“But I do.” You look up at her, eyes red and watery and mournful. “I made you think that I didn’t want to be with you. That I didn’t care about you. And I am so sorry.”

“You–” Lin shakes her head. “I… I jumped to conclusions. And for that, I’m sorry.”

You grimace. “I still had to lay the pieces out.”

“We both played part in it, consciously or not.” Because she can’t fucking take you blaming yourself for everything that led up tonight. Granted, she still doesn’t have the clarity she came here to find, but she’s gathered enough to know that her initial conclusions were wrong. She lets out a shaky breath, then wracks her mind for what to say or do next. Fuck, how do I even begin to salvage this–

“I’ve got shit in my past, Lin.”

Her mind stalls, caught off guard by the sudden confession. Her hands flex against your shoulders as uncertainty rolls through her. Don’t we all?

You sniff, then offer her a pained, watery smile. “I mean –Tui and La, this is…” Your voice trails off, and then your expression shifts to something more pained, more tired. “Fuck.” You scrub your face with your hands, then sniff again. “I… I don’t know if I can explain this tonight.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” you cut her off, voice firm. “I just…” You sigh. “I need some time to think.”

Lin purses her lips. Her stomach’s churning, and her chest feels like it’s on fire. “If –if you’d rather end things, just say so.”

“I won’t, because I don’t want to.” You shake your head –then freeze. You look up at her slowly, expression pinched. “But… but if you want to…”

She takes a deep breath, then shakes her head as well. “I don’t.” Because she doesn’t. Even with logic, years of experience, and all her instincts screaming to get away before she gets hurt, she doesn’t want to let go. Not if you’re just as determined to hold on as she is.

You let out a sigh, tension unwinding from your body. Your expression slackens, and your shoulders drop a bit. You lean against her, laying your head against her shoulder. “Okay.”

Lin winds her arms around your shoulders. She closes her eyes when you wrap your arms around her waist, and lets herself indulge in simply holding you for a few moments.

She’s exhausted, though. She feels like she’s been gutted, like everything inside her has been ripped out and that she’s barely keeping herself upright –almost like a hangover, but without the benefit of booze. She needs space, needs some precious quiet to put her mind back together… but she doesn’t want to leave you. Not when you’re so obviously wrecked like this. (Not after she came in, basically ready to rip your throat out, and caused this whole mess in the first place.) Lin kisses the top of your head. “Do you want me to stay?”

You let out a shaky exhale, then slowly shake your head. “No.” You pull back and offer her a small, weak smile. “Not that I want to kick you out, but… I just need some time and space to think. To find the right words.”

“Of course.” Lin nods, then starts putting on her coat. She gets her arms in the sleeves, gets the coat situated on her shoulders –then stops. You need to apologize, Beifong. She grimaces, but sets aside her pride all the same. “And –I’m sorry. For coming in so hot.”

“It’s okay.” You quirk your mouth to the side, then duck your head. “And I’m sorry, too. For scaring you. For making you think I don’t care.”

She stiffens. It’s instinctive, mostly; she hadn’t said anything about being scared, and she’s not fond of feeling like she’s been seen through like a pane of glass. Relax. She’s supposed to know you. Lin forces herself to untense, then leans forward and kisses the top of your head again. “Apology accepted.”

“Thank you.” You hug her, then tip your head up and kiss her non-scarred cheek. “I’ll try to have something tangible for you in a couple days so you don’t overthink things to death.”

“I do not–”

“Yes, you do.” You smile softly at her, then laugh a little when she huffs. “You’re like me. We both like having clarity.”

She really can’t argue with that.

She nods –then, she lifts one hand and cups your cheek. “Is it alright if I kiss you?”

You smile and nod. “Yes.”

She kisses you, short and sweet, then pulls back. “I’ll let you rest.”

“Thank you. And you get some rest, too,” you say as you escort her over to your apartment door. “Don’t stay up half the night burying yourself in paperwork.”

“What makes you think I’d do that?” Lin asks drily, feigning innocence. She smirks, then chuckles at the flat look you give her. “I’ll do my best.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask.”

Lin smirks and arches one eyebrow, then turns to leave–

You catch her arm and draw her back in for one last kiss.

She doesn’t melt into the kiss; she’s too tired, too emotionally overwrought for that. But it’s still comforting, and she can feel some of the tension ebb from her body.

You’re the one to end the kiss this time. It lingers longer than before, but you eventually pull away. “Good night, Lin.” You offer her a tired smile. “We’ll talk soon. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

She nods, then manages a “Good night,” back. She waits until your door closes and she hears the deadbolt slide into place, then strides down the hall towards the elevator.

She’ll have to walk home; she didn’t even think to call for a cab before leaving. Lin scowls and jams her hands in her coat pockets. Should’ve fucking drove here.

…

She’s borderline boneless by the time she makes it back to her apartment. Emotional confrontation never did suit her well. She locks her apartment door behind her, then lets out a ragged sigh. She slumps against the wooden portal, allowing herself to rest for a moment before shoving herself upright once more.

She keeps a supply of liquor in her living room, tucked safely away in a dark stained wooden cabinet. She pulls a bottle of bourbon out, pours herself a couple of fingers, then sets the bottle on the coffee table before she lets herself drop down on the couch. She knocks back half the portion, wincing slightly when she swallows and the alcohol burns down her throat. She’s not looking to get drunk (not like she did after Tenzin, or Amon). But she’s numb, and raw, and right now the scrape of alcohol in her throat is both grounding and soothing.

She stays quiet while she finishes the glass. She doesn’t bother turning on the radio, or even turning on a light. The sun’s pretty well down by now, but there’s still enough ambient light filtering in from the city. The rumble of Satomobiles and chatter from people on the sidewalks is sufficient background noise. So she sits in the dark, drinks her bourbon, and tries to nurse what feels like a gaping wound in the center of her chest.

It’s not over, she tries to reason with herself. Everything is fine. All couples have rough spots. You’re just phasing out of the honeymoon period.

Not that it does much good. Not in any important sense at least.

Don’t be stupid. You know something’s wrong –that’s the whole reason you went over there tonight. You should’ve cut and run, called your losses before everything went to shit. Besides, if something wasn’t wrong before, it certainly is now, since you went and fucking stepped in it. Maybe, if you’d just kept your mouth shut in the first place and let it ride out– Lin squeezes her eyes shut and wills that line of thinking to stop. Enough.

Not doing anything wasn’t an option. She’d learned that the hard way with Tenzin. And while detaching might be objectively safer, might’ve hurt less in the long run…

She growls under her breath. She sets her empty glass on the coffee table, then rubs her temples with her fingertips. Why do this have to be so fucking complicated?

She doesn’t want to end things. Despite her worries and old, buried hurts, she knows it. She wants to stay with you, wants things to work, wants to be happy with you.

Lin scowls. If that’s even possible. She swallows hard, then closes her eyes and lowers her head into her hands. Okay. Facts, not feelings. What’s the actual situation at hand?

Fact: There is some sort of delineation between how you act around her in public and how you act around her in private.

Possible outcome: The two of you have diverting preferences for PDA, which may yield to incompatibility as long term partners.

Fact: There is some sort of unaddressed trauma you’re dealing with as it relates to romantic relationships, displays of affection, or both. This trauma has, apparently, created a cycle of dysfunction in your romantic life –so much so that she’s not the first partner to bring the difference in private versus public attention to your notice.

Possible outcome:...

Lin frowns into her hands. I don’t know. She could tell, back at your apartment, that this is a deeply seated issue for you. But beyond what you’ve told her, she has nothing to go on. She has to trust you and take you at your word.

What’s worse –or better, she honestly can’t tell at this point–is that she does trust you. You’ve been nothing but painfully, earnestly honest with her since the two of you met. You’re not one for calculating guile, manipulation, or cunning schemes. It’s part of what she likes so much about you. She trusts you to be honest with her. To be direct. You certainly were earlier tonight when you called her out on her bullshit.

She can’t help but smirk, just a little, at the memory. That’s my girl. Lin lets out a long, exhausted breath, then lifts her head from her hands. Nothing else to do for now.

She decides against a second glass of alcohol. She has work tomorrow; more than that, she needs to sleep. She puts the bottle of bourbon back in the cupboard, rinses the glass, sets it on the countertop to dry, then heads to her bedroom.

She coasts through her bedtime routine with mechanical detachment. The overthinking part of her mind is blissfully absent, silenced by bourbon and the comfort of facts. She washes up as much as she needs to, changes, then turns out the light in her bedroom and climbs into bed.

Mercifully, she doesn’t dream.

…

Work is good. Paperwork and meetings with city officials are a pain in the neck, as always, but it’s routine. It keeps her mind busy, keeps her grounded. After yesterday, she needs to keep busy.

She stays late, too. It’s a bad habit, born out of being a workaholic and using said work to avoid anything that made her uneasy. But it’s not like there’s a shortage of reports to review, policy changes to amend, or case details to go over.

It’s late when she leaves her office –past eight. The sun’s low in the sky as she strides out of the department headquarters and over to her Satomobile.

The drive back to her apartment is routine. Uneventful. She makes a couple mental plans to put away some laundry she left out earlier and make dinner, but otherwise her goal is to spend the evening working on the paperwork tucked in her briefcase.

That is, until she opens her mailbox and realizes she has a letter from you.

She’s halfway to the elevator when she sees the nonstandard envelope; it’d been wedged between a few pieces of junk mail and this month’s utility invoice. A quick inspection reveals your name and address on the front –and then it’s all she can do to keep from ripping it open in the elevator. Patience, Beifong. She certainly doesn’t want to open a personal letter from her girlfriend in public. Especially if it contains bad news. She’s never been fond of getting emotional –especially the emotions that lean towards crying–in public spaces.

The letter burns in her hand the entire ride up to her floor. She can’t take her eyes off the envelope, tracing the smooth lines of your name and address over and over. She has nice penmanship.

She holds out until she locks the deadbolt of her apartment door behind her. Then, she uses her metalbending to summon her keys and uses the toothed edge of one to cut the envelope open. She tosses the rest of her mail on the counter, drops her briefcase next to the small stack of letters, and finally –finally–withdraws your letter from the envelope and unfolds it.

Lin,

Before I get into this, I want to apologize again–

She has to close her eyes and physically stop herself from groaning in pained frustration. This –this isn’t what she wanted. She’s realizing, unfortunately, that her approach last night was deeply flawed. All she wanted was some fucking clarity, but now you’re apologizing for trivial bullshit, practically dragging yourself across the coals in genuine penance; she’d rather have teeth pulled than go through this. Breathe. If she took the time to send you a letter, then it’s important. Lin inhales through her nose, holds the breath briefly, then exhales through her mouth before opening her eyes and resuming reading.

–to apologize again for last night. That things got to this state. I know that you’ll probably say that I don’t need to apologize, but I can tell that I’ve hurt you, and I don’t think you minimizing your own feelings will do anything good, so please just let me have this.

She bites down on the inside of her lower lip. Discomfort curls through her body; she feels exposed –even with still wearing head to toe metal armor. She takes another deep breath, forces herself to relax her grip on the paper when she realizes she’s leaving indents, then continues.

I wish I could say that I have this all figured out and that I can give you a complete explanation, and that we can get this completely behind us and move forward… but I can’t. I’m starting to wonder if this “quirk” of mine is ingrained deeper than I realized. Everytime I try to explain it or think about it, I feel like my thoughts get lost in a sea of mud. But, I do have some semblance of an explanation, so I’ll put it to you now.

The paper’s warped in a few spots. There’s some smeared bits of ink, some areas more translucent than the others.

Tear marks, Lin realizes with sadness. They’re tear marks.

I guess the easiest way to put it is that I don’t think growing up in the Water Tribe was healthy for me, at least as it relates to my sexuality. Their attitudes, while better than other regions, certainly aren’t the most progressive. I always thought that, since coming to Republic City, I’d put all those ideologies behind me. However, now I’m starting to wonder if it lingered more than I thought.

I’m so scared of being seen as queer in public. Not because I think someone would hurt me, but it’s… just not what I’m supposed to do. I know this probably sounds insane, but I feel like I’m going to get caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar. It’s why I lean away from being affectionate in public or arranging dates. I’m so afraid of “getting caught” and… something happening. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better; like I said, it’s like my mind turns to mud whenever I try to think about this.

She has to brace against her kitchen counter to keep from sinking to the floor. She’s not entirely sure what she’s feeling; shock, to be certain. A deep, overwhelming sense of realization and clarity as all the moments of your aversion and seeming apathy come into context. But deeper, underneath all of it, there’s a growing sense of horror, one that makes her stomach clench and churn.

She was fortunate to grow up in Republic City, in the circle of family and friends that she had. Even back then, Republic City had a vibrant queer community and laws protecting queer rights. Toph, certainly, hadn’t been fussed when she came out as bisexual as a teenager. Uncle Aang had made a point to carry forward the Air Nomad’s open acceptance of all sexualities and gender identities, and Aunt Katara had followed his lead. Uncle Zuko had quashed Fire Lord Sozin’s laws against gay marriage in the Fire Nation–

Spirits, she could probably list the advantages she’d had –advantages she’d had over you–as a queer woman for hours, now that she thinks about it. No wonder. She purses her lips. No wonder she wasn’t comfortable being affectionate in public.

Again, I am so, so sorry this splashed all over you, Lin. I know that it doesn’t change the inconsistencies in how I act, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I never intended to hurt you, or to make you feel like I didn’t want to be seen with you. Believe me when I say that I am so utterly happy to be your girlfriend –even when it’s scary.

She’s crying. Or damn close to it. Her eyes are watering, stinging.

I know we need to talk about this more. I still need some time to think, but I think I can have more of an explanation ready for you by the end of this week. If you want to talk, I’d appreciate you calling me once you get this letter and feel ready to discuss things. However, if you don’t want to talk –if this isn’t something you feel comfortable working through–then I understand–

Lin can’t remember a time she’s walked to her phone and dialed your number faster.

You pick up after a couple rings. There’s a shaky inhale once the call connects, and then your voice –soft, painfully hesitant–filters through the speaker. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lin swallows, then looks down at your letter. “I –uh–I got your letter.”

“Oh.” There’s a beat of silence, and the muffled sounds of you shuffling. “Okay.”

“You–” Get your shit together, Beifong. “You said you wanted me to call. To set a time to talk.”

“Yeah. I did.” There’s another pause, and then you let out a small laugh. “I guess I didn’t think you’d read it right away. Or that you’d want to talk so soon.”

“Of course, I did,” Lin says, indignant; like she’d let something like this go unaddressed for so long. “And of course, I do.”

“Okay.” Another shaky exhale. “I guess –I guess I wasn’t sure if you’d be mad.”

Oh, sweetheart. “I’m not mad,” she reassures you. “I think–” She has to swallow again and blink a few times; her throat’s gone unexpectedly tight with emotion. “I think your letter helped, actually. It puts a lot into context for me.”

“O-oh.” There’s a sniff, and when you speak again your voice sounds strained. “I –I’m glad. I’m glad it helped. But there’s… there’s still more I’d like to say. I just need time to… find the words and stuff.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” She braces against one hand on the wall next to the phone mount. “You said you wanted to talk later this week?”

“Yeah.” Your voice sounds clearer now. More certain. “I was thinking maybe Saturday? You could come to my place for dinner.” You let out a soft laugh. “I could make you some proper Sea Prune stew.”

“You don’t need to cook for me,” Lin argues, shaking her head. “Not for something like this. I can get us take out.”

“I want to,” you insist. “It’ll give me something to do with all my nervous energy.”

That, she can understand. “If you’re sure.” She purses her lips, loathing this feeling of awkward uncertainty running through her. “I… could bring something for dessert?”

“If you want to.”

“I do.” I need even things out somehow.

“Okay.”

Lin’s suddenly remembering why she went through a spell of not dating whatsoever; these awkward, nebulous post-fight conversations always make her feel like she has ants crawling underneath her skin. Easy. One thing at a time. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out.  “Okay.” Agni’s sake, say something better than that!

“I’m really sorry, Lin,” you pipe up –and, Spirits, your voice is cracking like you’re going to cry, and that’s the last thing she can bear right now. “I really didn’t mean for you to get caught up in my bullshit.”

“I wouldn’t characterize having trauma around expressing your sexuality as ‘bullshit,’” Lin fires back.

“I’m –it’s not–”

“You wrote that you’re scared of being recognized as queer in public, to the point that it’s had a negative impact on every relationship you’ve had,” she interjects. “How is that not trauma?”

Your end of the line is quiet for a long time. Then, you sigh. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t need to be–”

“Tui and La, Lin, just accept the apology,” you insist tiredly. “My actions, though caused by arguable trauma, hurt you. Just because there’s underlying reasons doesn’t change that you got hurt, and it doesn’t change that I’m still accountable for my choices.”

“But I’m not upset with you,” Lin argues. “Not with this. Not with it being a trauma issue.”

“Then just say you accept my apology! Quit telling me to not apologize to begin with!” You let out a tired laugh, then add, “Besides, when you could tell me what to do, anyway?”

She feels a smirk spread across her face at the clear impish challenge in your voice. She shifts to leaning against her shoulder, so that she’s sidled up next to the wall mount for the phone. “Oh, I seem to recall countless times where–”

“Focus, Lin.” Your smile is audible in your voice now. “You were going to accept my apology.”

She’s grinning, now. “Says who?”

“Says me, the girlfriend you adore and care about.”

Any other day, she’d argue with you to get a rise out of you, but she doesn’t want to push you too far right now. She lets out a soft chuckle, then concedes. “I appreciate and accept your apology. Thank you.”

“Yue above, it’s like pulling fucking teeth from you, isn’t it?” you mutter.

“The fuck else do you want from me, woman?” She smiles when you laugh –actually laugh, and it’s a relief to hear it–then sobers when she remembers that she owes you an apology, too. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. You were right. I was handling things like an interrogation. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“Apology accepted,” you answer, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I really appreciate that. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

There’s a pause, but the silence is more comfortable than before. Then, you ask, “Are we good?”

And that –that is a question she fucking hates. It’s so open-ended. What does “good” mean? Is it relative to the situation, or is there some definition of “good” that applies to the relationship overall that she should use instead? And, moreover, how is she supposed to know? Just because things are being worked through doesn’t inherently mean everything is “good.” Sometimes, working things out just drags more issues into the open, and then everything goes to shit as a result–

You’re overthinking this. Think smaller.

Okay. She’s not upset with you. You’re not upset with her –as far as she can tell, anyway. You’ve both apologized, you’ve both accepted each other’s apologies, there’s plans to talk things out more so there’s better understanding of the situation and what you both need. That… that seems good.

“We’re good,” Lin decides. “Are –are things good on your end?”

“We’re good on my end,” you assure her, voice warm.

“Good. I’ll see you on Saturday for dinner?”

“Yeah.” The two of you take a moment to hash out exactly when she’ll stop by your apartment, and then you sigh. “Not to just hop off, but I’m gonna go. I’m scheduled for rehab at Yue General tomorrow, so I need to rest.”

“By all means. I hope everything goes well.”

“Thanks. I hope things go well tomorrow for you, too.”

“Thank you.” She smiles softly. “Good night.”

“Good night, Lin.”

She hangs up when she hears the line click on your end, then sighs. Lin rubs the back of her neck with her hand. She straightens up, then looks down at the letter in her hand. She finishes reading it; there’s not much left, just you giving her an option out of the relationship if she didn’t want to hash things out and you apologizing again before signing the letter–then lets her eyes trace back over the sheet of paper. She’s noticing more tear spots on the paper, especially as she gets towards the bottom of the page, and she feels like her heart’s breaking all over again. She traces the outline of one of the more pronounced stains, then closes her eyes. Okay. Enough. You need to move forward with your evening. She opens her eyes, forces herself to fold the letter shut, then strides into her bedroom to grab a change of clothes before she showers.

Before opening her wardrobe, though, she detours to her nightstand. She opens the top drawer, then tucks your letter inside –between the left side of the drawer and a couple of books, where no one’s likely to notice it if they go snooping. She closes the drawer, then plants one hand against the top of her nightstand and braces against it. I was wrong.

She stays there for a moment, simply processing. Then, she smiles to herself –small, but there–and resumes getting ready for the rest of her evening.

[hotcat37]

deaf! Jere x Tommy concept drabble i wrote for @gigshoe <3 (for details, they're in their early 20s here and the setting is in Finland)

Tommy was admittedly already in a pretty cranky mood when he woke up that morning. He's got another day of long unpaid hours for his internship waiting for him. He knows it's a great opportunity and it's the experience that counts but still. Knowing that he's got another two months of hard unpaid work ahead of him isn't exactly motivating.

So when the Estonian feels a gentle tug at his sleeve while waiting for his train, his first instinct is to feel annoyed. He'd been minding his own business staring off into space and hoping no one would bother him. No such luck it seems.

Tommy turns his head towards whoever has disturbed him, not attempting to hide the scowl he knows he has on his face, ready to hit the unsuspecting person with a "I don't speak Finnish." But his eyes meet big blue ones and the brunette momentarily forgets all about his plan. He stares into the winter pale face of a man whose jet black eyebrows furrow together in concern at whatever look is on Tommy's face.

Oh crap. The stranger looks a bit intimidated, fiddling with the yellow phone in his hands, clearly too nervous to say anything now that he's been scowled at. Tommy's eyes involuntarily soften at the sight of the other man. Poor guy. He probably just spend a while working up the courage to approach him and here Tommy is fixing him with his resting bitch face.

"Hello." He greets the guy in English, trying to encourage him with a smile. "What's wrong?"

Big eyes stupidly blink back at Tommy for a second before they redirect their focus to the phone screen. The Estonian raises an eyebrow when the stranger starts to delete and re-type a text but otherwise uses the moment of distraction to get a good look at the man. The guy appears to be around Tommy's age, youthful face flushed slightly with a blush.

Pretty.....

The next thing he notices is the somewhat silly haircut the young adult is sporting. Tommy can admit that he somehow makes it work, though. And even if he didn't, the brunette would appreciate the eccentric hair anyways. Then he spots specks of neon green in between the black and when Tommy squints he realizes that they must be hearing aids. Aha. The man's behavior makes more sense now.

Is this train to Joensuu? Sorry if is a weird question, I never go there 😅

The deaf Finn still looks rather timid and Tommy surprises himself with the overwhelming feeling of wanting to comfort this cute guy. Must be the oversized black coat making him look extra small. As if Tommy could easily scoop him into his arms.

"Yeah, man. It's the third stop. I'm actually going there too." Tommy confirms, hoping it's enough to reassure the other man that there's no need to feel intimidated.

The small Finn seems....weirdly surprised. As if he didn't expect Tommy to actually answer him. Damn. Is his bitch face that bad? How many hot folks has he scared off with just his expression alone without even knowing it?

But then the stranger beams at him with such a sweet smile that Tommy involuntarily mirrors it, feeling his chest buzz with something warm and happy.

Thank you so much!! :D You are going to work in Joensuu?? :0

And where usually Tommy hates random small talk, with this guy he's very much eager to keep the conversation going.

"Eh, kind of?" The Estonian shrugs. "I mean, it is work but I'm not getting paid."

At the concerned frown on the stranger's face, Tommy hurries to clarify.

"It's an internship so-" The man doesn't seem to know that word, cocking his head to the side like a confused dog. "Ah, uhm, so I do work for a company but I'm not getting paid at the moment 'cause I'm not a real employee. It's just for experience, y'know?"

The small Finn makes a little noise as if to say oh. It's the first sound he's made so far and Tommy can't help but soak it up like a sponge. This guy is fucking cute, he can't deny it.

Experience is good yes yes but is shit that you not get money 😢

Tommy quirks a grin at that, amused by the stranger's bluntness. "Yeah, it is shit. But are you getting paid or you a poor intern like me?"

Delicate fingers fly across the keyboard, Tommy very much endeared by the other man's enthusiasm to conversate. He can't remember the last time he's had such a fun interaction with a random person.

I get paid! ^_^ Today is my first day as photo man 📸🔥

For a guy who doesn't speak, he sure is expressive. Tommy is quite enjoying the use of emojis.

"You're a photographer?" At the other man's nod, Tommy beams. "That's so cool!"

For a split second the deaf Finn looks genuinely surprised again, staring back at Tommy with wide eyes, before his lips also split into a wide grin. It's kind of funny how quickly things have progressed between them in less than 10 minutes. Just as Tommy is about to pipe up and say more, a distant honk alerts him that their ride is headed towards them.

"Train is here." The Estonian informs as he points to somewhere behind the guy.

The man turns his head, just for a second, and Tommy is painfully aware of how he immediately misses having those big blue eyes focused on him. There's just something about this stranger that draws him in.

The Finn in question seems oblivious, turning to face Tommy with that infectious smile of his.

Let's go!! 🏃💨

He dutifully follows after the shorter man as they head towards the train. People are steadily streaming into the wagons and Tommy tries not to smile when he feels the stranger press against him to avoid being shoved in all directions. The Estonian spots an open seat in the back and doesn't hesitate to sit down. His companion does seem a little unsure, though, likely wondering if it's okay to sit next to Tommy. If their interaction was just a one time thing.

The brunette pats the seat beside him with an inviting smile and it's enough to get the Finn to finally move.

Their shoulders brush against each other and it's rather surprising that Tommy doesn't immediately feel the urge to pull away like he always does whenever he has even the slightest physical contact with a stranger. With this guy it's very much welcome.

"Hey, what's your name?" Tommy gently nudges the smaller man by extending his hand once the chattering on the train has settled down. "I'm Tommy."

The stranger seems quite relieved by Tommy's introduction, eyebrows knitting together into a hopeful expression. He types something at lightning speed, holding up his phone so Tommy can read the message with one hand while the other takes the hand extended towards him. Very soft, the Estonian notes.

I'm Jere! :D

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 9

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

Before she is halfway across the room to announce her presence to Clayrmantle, the unknown person has risen. "So, you are Elowyn of Toreguarde," he says, his voice a low rumble, like lava flowing from an eruption. She halts on the rug bearing the city's seal, responding automatically, "Yes, sir." "Interesting," he murmurs and starts to pace around her.

He's clearly sizing her up, so she takes the chance to do the same. He is compact – not much taller than she, but far heavier set. He sports a large beard of the same lustrous black as his hair, also intricately braided and sealed with jewelled clasps. He is outfitted in a suit of dark green, tailored well to show off his figure. It is not until she spies the narrow circlet of malachite and gold, nearly vanishing in the tides of his hair, that she realises why he seems so familiar. Despite this, she cannot quell her annoyance at being eyed like livestock, and before he has completed even half his circuit, she raps out, "Do I meet with your Kingliness's approval?" She does try to keep the snark from her tone, because if he is here, then it is only to discuss matters of state and standing here, in the heart of the city, she feels keenly the cloak of representation which settles over her shoulders like an old and unwelcome friend. And if he is here to settle matters of state, then it will not do for her to jeopardise that with her appearance of incivility. As he continues his circuit, Elo can only hope that the familiarity is not mutual. This is not the first time she has been shanghaied by the Triumvirate, and she recalls with painful clarity the last time she was in his presence. When she, fresh from the field of battle, forgot herself and yelled at him like he was some basic footsoldier. Just because she was tired and sore, cranky from pain and trauma, hopped up on adrenaline and cortisol and fear – these are not justifiable excuses for insulting King Storri Norgandsson of Iceland.

"Majesty," he murmurs, coming to a halt in front of her. "Pardon, sir?" "My title. You should refer to me as 'Your Majesty'." He lifts his chin. "I will allow the oversight this time. I would not expect a police officer from a city-state with no royalty to know this, nor expect them to be adequately trained to comport themselves in a diplomatic situation such as this." She knows it's bait, she does. But sometimes her mouth likes to bypass her brain. "If we are going to be stiff about our titles, Your Majesty," Elowyn says, drawing herself up. "Then I feel it's only fair, that as one whom has the Freedom of the City, I should request you refer to me as 'Lady'." The King quirks an eyebrow. "Is that so?" In for a dime, in for a dollar. Elo draws herself up further– It's only then she spots the twinkle in his eye. Over the King's shoulder, Clayrmantle is smiling in a soft and hesitant way. In her periphery, the DA has stopped reading his report and is trying to suppress a grin. Elo doesn't bother looking at the Master of the Exchequer; he was scowling the moment she opened her mouth, and she doubts that's changed. But if Thazar is smiling, then it means this is teasing. Or at least that all is well. –Elo relaxes her pose. "Indeed, sir. However, it is not a right I generally pursue. Sargent O'Toreguarde suits me just fine." "Very well, Sergeant." He inclines his head in return. "As we are on more friendly terms than last we met, I will permit you to dispense with my title. You may continue with 'Sir'." Elo's mouth slackens. Heat rises to her cheeks. Her eyes go wide. She thinks she may have stopped breathing. The King chuckles. "Relax, Sargent. I do not hold against you that which was said in the fever of battle." His eyes harden a fraction. "I only require it to never happen again." Elo swallows, gives him a bow from the waist. "Of course, your Majesty. Thank you."

"Well," Clayrmantle says, stepping away from his desk, "I'm glad to see you both getting along, especially after your last encounter." He puts a hand on Elo's back and gestures for her to sit next to the DA. "I think now would be a good time to explain to Lady Elowyn why she's been summoned – and in such a secretive manner. I'm sure you have questions." This last is addressed to Elo as she takes her seat; she doesn't miss the twitch of Clayrmantle's eyebrows nor the emphasis on her title.

The King sits between Clayrmantle and the Exchequer on the opposite sofa. Clayrmantle begins, "You may recall, Madam, the incident a few years back which drove Iceland to break off trade with us." "Vividly," Elo murmurs. After all, she was in the middle of it, trying to prevent an all-out war. "The Icelandic government is now at a point where they feel ready to broach negotiations for a resumption in the Single Market." Elo tips her head towards the King. "Your Majesty is making a bold statement coming here in person." "I do not travel without a retinue," King Storri says. "But yes – in this matter, I feel, boldness is required. One must lead by example, my Lady, if one is to inspire action in others." "Quite so," the Exchequer says. "Semper audacior, indeed." "To that end," Clayrmantle says, "while his Majesty is in the City and not attending meetings, we want you to provide him with an escort." His eyebrows flick up – a warning not to be glib. "Security support will be provided by his own detail. I believe you know the special agent in charge, Meredith Ironforge?"

Elo's heart jumps into her throat. She follows the line of his hand to where a woman is stepping away from the line of ubiquitous black suits. She is not much taller than Elo, with blazing ginger hair and the body of a competitive weightlifter. Beneath the ubiquitous black suit, Elo can see the shape of her body armour, the tattoo of Thor's Hammer gracing the underside of her wrist. Elo swallows, doesn't know what to say. They haven't seen each other in years, parting on complicated terms. Merri's expression is neutral, no tell to show what the Icelander is thinking, doesn't say anything. Elo feels an uncomfortable weight in the air, knows she must break it. "Gruksdottir," Elo stumbles around the pulse in her throat. "It's good to see you again." Merri's eyes rove over her, culminating in a short nod. "Likewise, O'Toreguarde," she replies and moves back to her place on the wall.

Clayrmantle gives a polite cough. "Do you understand your duties, Lady Elowyn?" "Yes, Acting Magister," Elo says. She gives him something halfway between a smile and a grimace. "And, of course, it won't hurt for him and his to be seen in the company of one of the City's current heroes, letting bygones be bygones, so to speak." The withdrawal of allyship was not a one-sided affair, after all, and tensions among the people still rise when the matter is brought up. Elo will either do a lot of good with this or get into a lot of trouble. Clayrmantle raises his eyebrows. "Will that be a problem, my Lady?" Elo can't help the way her head tips in Merri's direction. "No, sir. Some of my favourite people are Icelandic." King Storri sits back with a pleased murmur. "She's astute," he comments to Clayrmantle. Merri snorts. "She has her moments, Herra." And, oh, if that sound isn't something that Elo has missed. "I try my best, your Majesty," she says instead. "Perhaps you could take his Majesty for an early lunch?" the Exchequer says. "We won't be beginning talks until the afternoon." Elo checks the time. "Sir, there is a personal matter I may be required to attend to soon." "I'm sure it can wait," the Exchequer says with a flip of his hand. Elo narrows her eyes. He must know what she's referring to. "Respectfully, Brauma–" Clayrmantle holds up a hand. "Let me call through," he interjects before things can escalate.

While the Magister makes a call from his desk, Elo keeps her gaze down. Ostensibly it's so she doesn't have to look at Exchequer or King, but her gaze catches on the papers the DA was examining. There's a lot of legalese, talk about 'precedents' and 'foreign incursions'. Someone has highlighted 'invasion force' and added a few tiny question marks between the lines. How very curious, she thinks. "Strucker will be delayed for another hour," Clayrmantle says. "You have time, my dear, to take his Majesty to lunch."

[aurora567]

Pandora's Gift Ch. 23

Warning: this story will contain mature content such as but not limited to sex, cursing, blood, violence, breeding kink, A/B/O themes ect.

Summary: The smut continues so if you do not wish to read smut or are under 18 please skip to chapter 24.

Word count: 3188

Last Chapter Next Chapter

Once the pair was able to part ways they did. Bakugou slipped his boxers on and proceeded to walk to her tiny kitchen as he gave Kirishima a call to let him know that neither Sakaki or himself would be at work and they Kirishima most likely had their place to himself now as well. Sakaki on the other hand could not have cared any less about what the blonde was doing as she was digging through her closet pulling out the supply of extra soft pillows and blankets. Not a care in the world that she was still naked or that she was less than clean now. Nor did she care that Bakugou was rummaging through her kitchen to find she didn’t exactly have the place well stocked in fresh food. A lot of canned goods or things in boxes but she lacked a lot of fresh stuff, which of course irritated the blonde who was hoping to cook something for a late lunch since they had been interrupted.

Meanwhile Sakaki was arranging the pillows and blankets as her omega demanded them to be. A soft and warm place to curl up in and stay for the next good number of days. And yet it didn’t seem complete as she stood over the bed now eyeing the blankets and pillows with a scowl. It wasn’t till her eyes drifted down that she spotted Bakugou’s shirt by the door. It was irritating that she felt the need to grab the shirt. And yet she couldn’t stop herself as she scooped up the shirt. Quickly she lifted the shirt up to her face allowing herself to cave in and take a deep inhale allowing Bakugou’s scent to wash over her as she found herself softly purring before adding the article of clothing to the pile of blankets and pillows on the bed.

Her body was burning up and sweat licked at her skin and yet she still happily crawled into the specifically piled blankets feeling extremely happy and content at least for the moment. But of course it wasn’t perfect even as she buried her nose into Bakugou’s shirt that sat among the mix of pillows and blankets. It wasn’t the same as having the actual body and scent beside her to curl up to.

Finally she could hear the footsteps she had been listening to as Bakugou strolled into the bedroom pausing before the bed to scowl down at her as he always did. Even in a mild foggy heat induced brain she still returned a scowl back to the blonde.

“How the hell do you survive with an empty kitchen,” he growled, looking down at her. He didn’t dare enter the now quickly made nest without her invitation even if she had officially invited him earlier but still she had not made her nest then. And he knew the woman would happily growl and snap at him if given a valid reason and excuse.

“I had planned to go grocery shopping but as I have made clear this series of events was not at all planned, usually when I stop my suppressants I have a few days before my heat. I was not expecting it to hit me like a fucking train in only a few hours,” she growled up at him. Though she was cranky it was due to a few factors and the pain once again starting to stab into her stomach was one of the reason’s she was a little more short with the blonde than normal.

“Now get your ass back in bed,” she growled, which only had the smirk on his face growing as he enjoyed this chance to tease her.

“And what if I decide not to?” He asked an eyebrow arched at her.

“Do not test me Katsuki. I will throw your ass out of my apartment in nothing more than your boxers and let your PR team deal with that disaster,” she threatened not even hesitating for a moment either. If she couldn’t have him, or more particular his dick then she would not hesitate to throw his ass out. She did not have the patients in that moment to deal with him if he wasn’t dicking her down good into her mattress.

Of course Bakugou found that reply funny in the moment, maybe more so that he knew she would actually try and do it too if he wasn’t careful.

“Alright alright no need to threaten social media murder,” he said as he moved along the edge of the bed looking for the best way to crawl in without risking damaging the way she arranged everything. He was careful which was a little surprising that he actually cared enough to not damage the nest. Or maybe he just feared she would try to bite his head off like a praying mantis would after mating.

The second he was in the bed her nose was running along his shoulder and up to his neck nuzzling her nose along the scent gland there oh so happily taking a long deep breath as a soft purr seemed to rumble in her chest. Why was his scent so soothing? She had never found it that way before. Even in highschool she had never found his scent so mouth watering but also so soothing. Not even noticing she had crawled into his lap till she moved to grind her hips against him did she notice he was still wearing his boxers. The material was rough when she ground her sensitive body against it. She did not enjoy that as she let out a soft whine.

Her hands had moved down his chest as she nearly ripped the offending material off of his body, whether it was because she just didn't want to feel the scratchy material against her sensitive skin or it was the fact she wanted what was being hidden under the material her fog riddled brain wasn't sure. But in the moment she didn't care as her hands tugged the material off of his hips and down his strong thighs. Dark eyes ran up his thighs and happily oogled the rippling muscles of his abs of his lower stomach before making their way up taking in the way the muscles of his broad shoulders rippled as he shifted beneath her to toss his boxer across the tiny room. Has Bakugou always looked this good? It was almost hard to believe this man she had been working the last two weeks with was the same young blonde idiot she remembered from highschool.

“Are you just going to sit there and keep drooling?” The tone of his voice was completely teasing as she was sitting there straddling his waist before she blinked her eyes slowly pushing away the fog of lust for a moment while she had a chance to.

“Oh shut up,” She growled her top lip pulling back to flash her teeth at him. Though all that did was earn her a growl back from the blonde who was lying beneath her.

“Watch it little omega,” He growled back at her, his own sharp teeth flashing back. A shiver ran down her back at the thought of what the blonde would do to her if she continued to push his buttons as the two of them boarded on the line of being feral animals and still people.

“Make me,” maybe she was a little suicidal as she actually growled that back at the man. Of course she was given no chance to even think over what the outcome of those two words would be when she suddenly found her back pressed into the bed beneath her. A large hand wrapped around her neck kept her pinned to the bed even as she tried to snap at the hand holding her in place. But she knew she didn’t wish to actually remove the hand or the body that pinned her down.

“Better watch what you say,” He growled before grinding his hard cock against her inner thigh. This drew a whine from her as her own hips bucked up trying to meet his hips but a simple shift of his hips had hers meeting nothing.

“Bakugou,” she whined softly as she started to pant softly beneath him as she looked up at him.

“We are a little past using last names now don't you think?” The blonde said smirking as he looked down at the dark haired woman that laid out beneath him unable to keep herself from squirming and already panting even though he had not actually touched her yet. Then again the scent of her slick was filling the room making his own head dizzy and his alpha clawing at the back of his mind to remove his hand from her neck and instead sink his teeth into a sensitive scent gland and claim her for himself. But that would probably get his ass killed rather literally by the woman if he claimed her after she had told him earlier not to.

“Katsuki,” She really didn't have the ability to hold a conversation with the man at the moment as she just simply repeated his name though using his first name this time as she watched his pupils blow up and his nostrils flare. Just hearing her say his first name alone seemed to completely snap whatever little bit of self control he had.

A low rumble vibrated in his chest before his hip’s thrust forward sinking himself deep within her body, which had her cry out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Yet the cry didn’t have him stop as his hips moved quickly to start snapping against hers as the room filled with her moans and his soft grunts and groans. Her hips quickly tried to meet his every time he snapped his against hers sending him deep within her body. The feeling of being stretched and filled once again had her moaning and trying to squirm beneath him. But the hand fingers wrapped around her neck lightly kept her pinned to the bed in her spot only allowing the lower half of her body to be able to move at all. But still it limited how much she could move as her body felt like it had a mind of its own as her back arched or tried to.

She tried to whine but the pressure from the hand kept her from being able to make much more than a breathless low whine. She wanted to squirm and move her body demanded to try and help him. But the low growl from him when she grabbed at his wrist to try and remove it warned her that he would not be removing his hand soon. And so all she could bring herself to do was grab at his forearm weakly and whine a little as she was at his mercy as he fucked her into the mattress beneath her back.

Her body was growing tense as her walls slowly started to tighten around him. She wasn’t sure how long she could last. But the feeling of his knot starting to catch on her entrance informed her that he was in a very similar boat. Finally the arm around her neck moved to grip the top of her shoulder as if he could somehow pull her even closer to him as he sunk himself deep into her body.

“Katsuki… alpha!” She couldn’t even get her mouth to work and warn him that she was close. But it seemed finally being able to freely call out to him was too much for him as his knot popped and she could feel him filling her with his hot seed. She cried out as teeth sank into a spot of her right shoulder right by her arm. That sent her over the edge as well as her body squirmed and waves of pleasure crushed into her before her body slowly started to relax as she panted softly.

Though all it took was a minute or two to start regaining the ability to think to recall the pain in her shoulder before a quick panic set in and she raised a shaking hand to her skin before feeling across the tender area. Although it hurt and she was pretty sure someone could take a dental mold from her skin the bite had not been strong enough to actually break the skin. Still hurt and the skin around was an angry red. But she sighed as she realized he kept his word even during the heat of climaxing.

“That hurt. Dick,” she said softly before she finally turned her dark eyes to look up at the blonde who was leaning over her. His forehead leaning against her other shoulder trying to catch his own breath and wait for sensation to return to all of his body.

“Oh boohoo you big baby,” he growled at her but there was no bite to his tone as he laid there catching his breath before his arms carefully wrapped around her before the two rolled over to lay on their sides in an attempt to get more comfortable. Though the initial movement had sent off a jolt of pain and discomfort through her she didn’t say anything as she found herself nuzzling into the blondes chest inhaling his scent softly as she found herself drifting off to sleep.

It wasn’t till a knock at her front door jolted her from her sleep that she had even noticed she had fallen asleep at all. The growl rumbling from a half asleep Bakugou had her eyes flash up to her as she heard her dear friend's voice after having let herself into the apartment. A slap to Bakugou’s chest had his growl stop as he looked down at her, almost as if he was offended at the action.

“It’s Sasara. She probably heard what happened and brought me food knowing my fridge would be empty,” she said softly as she looked over at the blonde who was now fully awake.

“Good I’m hungry,” the blonde said simply before pulling away from her to crawl out of the nest of blankets and grab his boxers, slipping them on before leaving the bedroom. Not great but at least he had the decency to not give her friend a full heart attack while walking around naked.

It wasn’t long till she heard her front door open and close once again before the blonde returned with two bowls of curry in hand. Of course that’s what he would go for first out of the few meals her friend surely had to have cooked for her.

“I don't think that will be up to your royal tastes buds,” Sakaki said smirking as she watched the blonde growl at her.

“It’s not like I’m expecting much. But we should eat while we can,” he said, sitting down carefully on the bed before offering her a dish. They both knew what he meant. He was likely going to go into rut once his own suppressants wore off. Though Sakaki wanted to know what company made his meds cause his were clearly better than hers.

She watched as Katsuki stuck the first mouthful of curry into his mouth. He was well aware she was watching him like a hawk, and the cheshire grin she was sporting as he chewed did not help. If anything it was annoying but he had to wait till he was able to swallow the mouthful of food before turning on her with his sharp tongue.

“What the hell are you looking at?” He barked at her which only had her laughing lightly before she shoved a mouthful of food into her own mouth drawing out her reply knowing the blonde would hate it if she talked with her mouth full. He used to reprimand Kirishima and Kaminari back in highschool if either of them would ever talk with their mouths full, and so she doubted that would have changed.

“Nothing, just waiting to see if you choked on it,” she said, completely teasing even as he growled at her. Which in turn only made her start laughing before she continued to eat her food.

“It’s not as spicy as I like it but it’s not that bad,” wow was that an attempted compliment about someone else’s cooking coming for Bakugou Katsuki the cooking king?

“Wow look at that. You can actually eat someone else’s cooking and not combust?” She said unable to help but continued teasing and pushing his buttons.

“Of course I can dumb ass. And anyways I doubt you could cook any better,” he growled back, expecting to irritate her but she just smiled.

“Nope I can’t. Never was great in the kitchen. Sasara’s cooking is much better than I could ever hope to make,” she said honestly as she happily ate the curry faster than she planned to. But skipping lunch and now her heat starting had made her hungry as her body demanded protein and food before the days of fasting and strenuous work that it knew was coming.

A part of her was sad once her plate was cleaned off. But her stomach said she was full so she didn’t complain when Katsuki took both their plates and headed to the kitchen where she assumed he was washing them. But still she didn’t enjoy the nest being empty. Her stomach full and a fresh nap in her body was once again heating up. Curiously what sliver of her sanity she had, or maybe it was an insanity? It was hard to tell at the moment but non the less some part of her brain figured her next action would be a good idea.

“Katsuki!” She cried out in a low, needy whine ensuring it was just loud enough that he would hear her from the kitchen. And of course he did as all the noise in the kitchen came to a halt. She was pretty sure he even left the sink full of water but she didn’t care. In a matter of a few steps he stood in the doorway of her bedroom looking at her with blown out pupils and flaring nostrils as he watched her almost warningly.

“Oh what’s that face for Katsuki?” She asked flashing him a wide fake innocent smile as if she did not know about what she had just done. Or the fact that she very much loved the way he reacted to something as simple as her saying his first name. Though she was most likely going to regret that discussion as she watched him start to stroll towards the bed a deep growl in his throat as he quickly shed his boxers before reaching the bed. He was already rock hard and the sight was more than enough to kick start another round of slick running down her thighs. Good thing they got a nap in earlier because she was pretty sure she was not going to get any more sleep till very early in the morning now.

Next Chapter

[jacemond-addict]

Training Wheels

Aemond Targaryen x Jacaerys Velaryon

Modern Au

First Kiss

Young Jacemond

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“Shh” Aemond abruptly stops making Jace crash into his back.

’Oof’ slips out of Jace, his face hitting on Aemond’s bony back.

“You’re walking to loud.”Aemond whispers. He was on high alert, he couldn’t risk them getting caught. He was practically a ninja and Jace was blowing his cover.

“No, I’m not. I’m practically flying.” He says, rubbing his forehead. Jace makes a quick demonstration that only makes Aemond’s frown deepen. Not wanting to upset his uncle more , Jace promise to walk quieter. Aemond mood can change in a second, His mother told him it was because of puberty, whatever puberty was ,Jace hopes it would leave his friend alone.

He hates it when Aemond is grumpy, like a cat getting wet.

Jace didn’t understand why they couldn’t just go to one of their rooms. Everyone else was deep asleep. If Jace cancels everything out he would be able to hear his grandfather snores rumbling through the walls.

Bored of walking extremely slow to Aemond’s secret spot , Jace began to hop silently but not enough for Aemond to ignore.

He had that grumpy look again when he turned back to to see him.”What are you doing?!”

“Standing. What are you doing?” Jace retorts. He swung his hands by his side , back and forth innocently.

“That’s not what you were doing. You we’re hopping like a bunny!”Aemond scowls. Usually he wasn’t that cranky but it was past their bedtime.

And he had a goal to achieve that Jace wasn’t cooperating .

“A rabbit.” Jace corrects,”If you knew what I was doing , why’d you ask?”

“If you keep playing around I won’t help you. You do want me to help you , right?” Aemond ask, pointedly.

“Yes!” Jace shouts, momentarily forgets he was suppose to whisper.

Aemond slaps a hand to Jace mouth. Their eyes widen in fear. They stay frozen waiting for someone to come out for them but everyone kept snoring away. They stayed quiet until Jace began giggling behind Aemond’s warm palm. Aemond giggled louder making Jace press his palm to his uncle mouth to keep him quiet .

Their small shoulders jumped up and down. Doing a terrible job trying to silence each other. Their giggles just encouraged them to keep laughing. Then there was a creak. Aemond drop his hand from his mouth and grabbed his hand and ran to the left.

They ran up the stair , Aemond skipping two at a time, which made it a little difficult for someone with shorter legs. It didn’t make sense to Jace , they’re almost the same height.

Jace didn’t dared to look behind. He just hold on tight to Aemond’s hand. His friend leading them to the last level of the house and straight to the huge window that Rhaenyra and Alicent warned them to be careful and to never open.

So when Jace saw Aemond unlatch the lock and swung a leg over the ridge of the window, he leaps forward to pull him back.

“What now?”

“It’s dangerous. We can fall and get hurt!”

“Just hold my hand.”He offers. They looked down at their hands that hadn’t parted since.

”Don’t let go of my hand.” Aemond corrects himself.

Aemond sighed seeing Jace scared. He explains how he’s done this countless of times, that the roof is his secret spot, where he could go away where no one can find him or disturb him. When that didn’t work , Aemond used his last card.

“Do you trust me?”

Wordlessly Jace grabs Aemond’s hand, Intertwining their fingers together, and slowly hopped over carefully the window . He’s Jace best friend . Of course he did. What a stupid thing to ask.

In the roof there was a blanket laid out,a pillow or two, and a flashlight with spare batteries in a far corner, that Aemond brought up earlier. Aemond tugged Jace behind him and sat down.

Both boys crossed their legs , in criss cross applesauce ,facing each other. Now that they were at the destination it dawned on them what would be happening next. The air turned awkward , making them avoid eye contact. Shivering slightly from the cold air.

Both boys were freaking out a bit out inside their heads, repeating ‘this is my first kiss’ in their head, like a mantra. They were practically buzzing like a bee that has found pollen.

“We don’t have to do it.”

“Scared?”

“Are you?”

“No why would I? It’s not my first time!” Aemond voice raises nervously. Desperate trying to hide the truth, scared that Jace would find out he really wasn’t as experience as he said.

“I’m helping you so you won’t be a loser who hasn’t had a kiss yet.” Aemond cruely reminds him. The regret crawls evilly on his skin seeing Jace flinch. He wanted to kick himself, lately he’s been saying the wrong things, he’s not used to messing up.

Aemond hates it when he makes Jace upset. He’s his Best Friend , his only friend , Aemond doesn’t want to lose him.

“Why do you have to be so mean.” Jace pouts sadly, suddenly the blanket looked the most interesting thing in the world.

“I’m sorry.” Aemond said, looking sincerely apologetic. Jace looks at him under his lashes.His voice now gentle.“Sometimes the words slip out.”Aemond shrugs, playing with the lose thread from the blanket.

Jace timidly reaches for Aemond’s hand , the older boy doesn’t hesitate to grab it and interlace their fingers together. They both look up from the ground and look at each other. A timid smile on their lips.

Their heart beating in sync.

“I’m ready.” Jace whispers, the nervousness he had all day finally disappeared.

“Okay. “ Aemond whispers, his lips stretched in a discrete smile

Jace and Aemond smiled and scooted closer, knees knocking into each other, until their faces were close.

Being this close Jace can see how different they both were. From Aemond’s white silver hair , pale skin like the snow, his long nose , ocean blue eyes that seemed always frustrated with the world. The opposite of Jace brown curly hair, his brown eyes, his button nose , and tan warm skin.

“Close your eyes and at the count of three, We just lean in, okay?” Aemond whispers, his voice trembling with excitement.

“If my eyes are closed how am I suppose to see your lips , what if I kiss your nose or your chin? Or your eye, I don’t—” Jace face scrunches in thought. Already beginning to rant. He didn’t want to mess up his first kiss just because he couldn’t see.

“Just close your eyes.”Aemond cuts him off, cupping his face softly with his hand.

Jace closes his eyes shut, waiting to count in his head with Aemond , he began to see bright dots in different shapes behind his eyelids just like the stars in the sky.

Aemond stifled a giggle seeing Jace puckering his lips like a fish. He stared at the boy, really happy that it was happening, Finally!

Jace mouth always looked so soft and he was such a pretty boy, Aemond thought.

“ 1 , 2, 3!”

Aemond grabbed Jace shoulders with his free hand for leverage and pressed his lips to the boy, squeezing his own eyes shut, then backs away.

Aemond felt embarrass how hot his face felt but it made him feel better seeing Jace own chubby cheeks red.

Jace brought his hand up to touch his lip , where he felt a tingling sensation, he can’t help but smile. Jace felt warm inside, like hot lava gurgling in his tummy, so much he feared the butterflies wings would melt with the heat.

“So……” Aemond was a flustered mess, his usual frown had been replaced by a shy grin and his eyes were avoiding Jace's. He kept wetting his lips, trying to chase the feeling again.

The brown haired leans forward again, pressing his lips back to his. They stay like that for a minute or so, though it feels longer. Just mouth pressed to mouth, breathing through their noses, while blood rushes through their ears.

Aemond looks startled but pleased at the action when they pull apart. “Thank you.” Jace said, biting his lip.

The boys gaze at each other, their ears red and a smile grazing their lips, and it’s in that moment Jace is proud of himself for sharing his first kiss with Aemond. He’s glad he didn’t accept the girl from his class offer to be his first kiss.

Jace mother told him how the first kiss should be with someone he likes.

Jace didn’t exactly wanted to ask Aegon, knowing his uncle would use it against him and make fun of him, Heleana wasn’t even interested in the aspects of kissing , and Aemond mentioned he’d kiss someone but kept the person identity a secret no matter how Aegon bugged him to spill.

No matter how persistent Jace was, Aemond never told him. It only fueled his annoyance more, Best friends share secrets ,he told himself he wouldn’t play with Aemond but he couldn’t come up with a good excuse why it bothered him so much that Aemond kissed someone else.

When Aemond asked if he wanted to go play in the swings, Jace quickly forgave him since that stupid kiss didn’t make Aemond want to stop playing with him.

When Jace confessed he hadn’t kissed anyone yet, Aemond offered to help him. What are friends for, that’s what Aemond said.

Aemond is smart , funny , and his best friend , the perfect person Jace wanted it to be. His first kiss. And his second.

“We could… never mind ” Aemond shakes his head, refusing to finish his sentence, scared of rejection. The idea sounded stupid in his head it will sound more stupid said out loud .

“What?” Jace ask, curiously. Hoping, maybe, that Aemond wanted to kiss one more time, for good luck.

“If you want we could keep practicing on how to kiss. So when we get girlfriends we know how to kiss properly.” Aemond cringed after daring to ask, once again he shifts his gaze back to the blanket. Shoulder hunching in , Aemond plays with his green pajamas.

Aemond’s not sure why he said that. But, He knows for an absolute fact he doesn’t want to kiss anybody but Jace.

“Okay. Tomorrow?” Jace quickly accepts, leaning once again for a kiss. He realize that nobody told him that kissing would be addicting or maybe kissing Aemond was.

Aemond inches closer, with a smile playing around his lips, finally closes the gap between them. Aemond knew then that, one way or another, Jace would always be his.

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Note: I’m feeling better now! So here’s another moodboard with little side of terrible writing. Fetus Jacemond having crushes on each other and being oblivious is adorable to me.