#trying to think of a caption and the 'noise is calling pick up phone' kept repeating in my head

[linrinkuarts]

She was a skater girl. He said, "See ya later, girl."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   summary:  porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers

chapter one: save your love

“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”

“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?

Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.

“What did the fucker do this time?”

It didn’t last long.

“He didn’t do a thing.”

Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”

“Porco, please.”

“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”

You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.

“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”

“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.

Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.

“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.

“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”

“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”

Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.

“I like to think I have really good taste.”

“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.

“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”

“And?”

“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.

“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.

“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”

Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”

“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”

“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.

“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”

Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”

“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”

“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”

Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”

“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”

“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”

“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”

“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”

You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”

Porco scoffed.

“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”

Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.

Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.

“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”

Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.

“He could what?” you insisted.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.

Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.

Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.

Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.

“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.

“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”

Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”

You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.

“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.

Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.

It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.

He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.

“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.

You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.

“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.

“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.

“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.

It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.

When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.

Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.

You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.

He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.

“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.

“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”

Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.

Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.

He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow

“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.

“Why are you still with him?”

You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.

“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”

You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.

“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”

Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.

“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”

Once again, he was met with silence.

“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”

You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.

“Like me.”

You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.

“W-what?”

You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.

“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.

You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.

“Why?” you whispered.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you… well—”

“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”

“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.

Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.

Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.

You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.

“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”

You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.

After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.

Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.

“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.

Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.

Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

...

When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.

He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.

But not like that. Never like that.

Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.

Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.

A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.

“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.

“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”

“Are you serious right now?”

You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.

“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”

In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.

The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.

[domesticblisss]

Nice to Meet You

Jay White x Female Reader Requested Prompt: “Hello! Thank you for opening requests. How about one with Jay White where he’s in New Japan and reader is in WWE and they end up following each other on ig or something and after awhile of messages and such they finally meet and get together? You can change things up if you want I just love the idea of 2 people from separate companies getting together lol ❤️ ” Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1306 Warnings: Nothing, fluff as fuck with a tiny little bit of angst and some between the lines pinning and a little cursing. Summary: Mutual friends aren't enough for you to meet, but the internet is. A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post it, work has been crazy, then writer's block hit and when the inspirations finally got back to me, I had the shittiest week ever so I couldn't bring myself to write it. I hope it's at least a little bit good, and that my dear requester and you all like it. 💕

He always heard about her and she always heard about him. Only good things.

Shelley always gushed about how their styles were similar, Sabin went off countless times on how they should wrestle as a duo, and against each other, and Candice kept mentioning how they would look cute together.

But the friends in common weren't enough to make them meet each other and their hectic schedule never coincided. Soon, Jay shipped off to Japan full time and she finally got her NXT contract signed.

Jay was the one to take the first step. It was on a late saturday night, one of his few days off, when he finally decided to watch her debut match against Asuka after seeing it trending across social media and different news outlets.

She lost the match, but she gave the NXT Women’s Champion a run for her money. Hard kicks after hard kicks, asuka locks being countered several times, and the most incredibly performed top rope DDT he had ever seen. It was the hardest hitting women’s match he had seen in a while and he was amused with her talent, so amused he had to let the world know.

“@thisisfuryWWE nxt debut match was the best one I’ve seen in a long time. Can’t wait to see more of you 😉”

The message made her smile, the recognition from someone she always thought so highly of warming her heart.

“@JayWhiteNZ thank you! this means a lot coming from the #switchblade 🔪❤️”

With that came the mutual following on social media, then the likes, the casual comments turned into dm’s, turned into phone number exchanges, and soon, they didn’t know a life without each other.

Every day a “good morning” text would be sent by whoever woke up first and “sleep well” texts closed off the night. The time zone was messy, but they always found a way to talk to each other, losing count of how many nights were poorly slept and the amount of coffee they drank on the morning after.

Little “this made me think of you” messages were sent whenever a dog picture or a meme came their way, friends' dinner/lunch dates through FaceTime became a thing and every Instagram post got commented with an inside joke. Friends and fans started to notice the change in their relationship and soon their mentions were bombarded with speculating questions.

“Are you guys together?”

“When are the two of you getting married?”

“@thisisfuryWWE and @JayWhiteNZ get a fucking room already”

“I would if she was near me 🙄”

She was the one who took the second step. After a lot of talk with Candice, she finally realised her true feelings towards the kiwi. It wasn’t easy accepting them at first, she took longer to respond to his messages, the “good morning” texts were no more, and her answers were always short, until the fateful day where she completely stopped answering him.

→ I don’t know if I did something wrong, and I am so sorry if I did, but please talk to me.

She knew that ghosting him was wrong and that she needed to tell him the truth, even if her anxiety got the best of her.

The clock on her phone announced that it was 12:45pm, meaning it was almost 2 in the morning for him and that he probably had just gotten back from the monday tapings, tired and wanting to sleep. “Fuck it, he texted me. It’s now or never.”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

He picked up on the third ring, his long, dyed black hair wet, sticking to his forehead, the droplets of water running down his chest.

“Hey! Sorry it took me a while to pick it up, I was just taking a shower. How are you?” He panted like he had just ran a marathon to pick up the phone. “I missed you.”

She had never seen him so vulnerable, the small tone of his voice shot a tinge of pain to her heart. “Can we talk? I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, just let me put some pants on.” Jay laughed.

He sat the phone down on the nightstand and she kept staring at the cream ceiling of his hotel room, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

“Is everything okay, I was worried about you.” Noises of shuffling fabric were noticeable in the background, paired with a string of curses after what she was pretty sure was him bumping his pinky on some furniture.

“Everything is fine. Is your toe still alive?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

She looked at him, really looked at him. The dark hair dryer, messy and no longer sticking to his forehead, probably the work of him aggressively running the towel over it. His fair skin pink after a hot shower, blue eyes shy, almost anxiety ridden with anticipation of what could happen next. She let out a modest smile, running the words she had thought about telling him countless times in her head.

“What is it, honey?”

“Jay, I- I need to tell you something. I don’t know how to say it but just let me finish first or I’ll die.”

He only nodded.

“I like you. Really, really like you. That’s why I’ve been off these past few days, I’ve been trying to understand my feelings and I ended up scaring myself because I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” she stopped for a few seconds, hands running over face and hair, taking a moment to breath. “Jay, I– fuck, I appreciate our friendship so, so much and I don’t want to ruin it, but I get it if this makes you uncomfortable and if you want to cut ties.”

Jay kept quiet, staring at her through the small screen, smile getting bigger and until it turned into full, hearty laughter.

“Jay, this is not funny. I’m not–“

“This is why you vanished? God, can’t you see I fucking love you too, you idiot?!”

Silence engulfed the pair again as they looked at each other, not believing what had finally happened. They exchanged smiles and lingering stares before continuing the conversation.

“I’m crazy about you, honey.”

“And how are we going to do this, Jay?”

“I am constantly going back home, you can come over when you have some free time. We will figure it out, baby.”

Three weeks of messages and video calls, three weeks of “I love yous” and “can’t wait to see you”, three of the longest weeks of their lives until they finally meet each other.

Jay opens instagram, her story bubble being the first one to show up. He clicks on it and is met with a picture of her in a red envelope dress and white converse, the same one he was wearing, and a caption that said “today is going to be a great day! ❤️🔪”.

🔥 reaction and a “see you in forty, love” reply sent, her phone vibrated in her purse just a few meters away from him. Little did he know she was waiting for him in the landing room, holding a small poster with “Mr. White” written and little switchblades drawn all over it.

She grew anxious as everyone but Jay left the plane, checking the time and if she was on the right gate constantly.

Five minutes passed, five minutes that felt like hours, and Jay finally came out, with sunglasses covering his eyes and his denim jacket in hand. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, a smile growing on his face as she ran to him. He engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing her lips in small pecks that grew into one big slow kiss.

They touched foreheads after, smiling and laughing, not believing they were finally in each other’s arms.

“Hey, stranger.”

[scandeniall]

no limit to you

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: “Knew right from the start there was no limit to you.” sakusa’s gonna go far and you know it. a look at your relationship throughout some months. (Started out based on Feels by Kehlani but yeah that went left)

warnings: profanity, starts as college students, manga spoilers about career. implied sex, little bit of angst but for like 10 seconds. 

wc: 5.4k holy shit this took me all week

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, month 6 

“He is the Black Jackals big and promising rookie,” Your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride as the speaker's voice carried across the gym (?). Despite the less theatrical introductions awarded to MSBY you couldn’t help but cheer loudly even yelling out the stupid nickname given to Sakusa by his teammates. One that he insists that he hates. “Go, omi-omi!” To anyone else it’d just look like another stale glance at the speaker, but you didn’t miss the tiniest of smile that graces his face. 

It’s his time to shine and you’re by his side to witness it all. — Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 3 

The sound of rain pounding against the building mixed with the sound of landing volleyballs and squeaking shoes. The men’s volleyball practice is approaching hour 3 and despite Sakusa insisting that you could have just headed back to your apartment you were there anyways. One reason for it was because you knew with him living so close he didn’t drive to campus and despite his tendencies for cleanliness, that’d he’d swallow his pride enough to catch a ride with one of his teammates to avoid the torrential downpour. You figured he’d at least appreciate a ride from you, whose car he knew was relatively clean instead (clean mostly because he always made cleaning and disinfecting your car a “couple activity” every weekend). Another reason was simply because you missed him and was ready to propose getting dinner together. Waiting for him wasn’t a problem anyways, the row of tables overlooking the gym were quite spacious and you utilized the time to get some procrastinated work done. As your small break and time spent switching between the same 3 apps comes to an end you pull up your Snapchat one last time the camera zooming in on sakusa for a few seconds with the caption “a superstar”. You knew Sakusa would frown and scold you for it later (the guy hates being put on stupid Snapchat), but also knew he secretly like when you showed how proud you were. The man was truly destined for greatness and you knew there were no limits to how far he could go. Of course with the relative newness of your relationship, you’ve never told him that. After one last check to make sure the video posts, music flows back into your ears as you began the last hour stretch. “You could’ve gone home you know.” Was the first thing you heard the second the dark haired male sat in the chair in front of you. Plucking your earbuds out all you could do was shrug. “Now is that anyway to greet your cinnamon apple,” you laughed at the displeased look on his face, or more so in his eyes. He must've put his mask on before leaving the locker room. Sakusa was never really one for nicknames and whenever you’d call yourself something from a vine from a thousand years ago he couldn’t hide the scowl on his face. 

“All done for the day?” At his nod of assurance you start packing up your bag as Sakusa just watched. He cringed at how you chaotically just packed your papers and laptop into your bag. No folders, or even a ouch for writing utensils. He’d have to get you one. As you finished picking up and fished your keys out of your bag’s pocket you notice Sakusa pull his mask down as he crossed to step in front of you. Placing a quick kiss on your lips, “thank you for waiting.” — Tap. Tap. Tap. Click. Tap. The sounds of scribbling mixed alongside flipped pages and the soft conversations of fellow library goers. The words of the textbook in front of you were beginning to look like gibberish and with that cane even more unconscious fiddling of your pen, a fact not lost on your boyfriend. The sound being so close and frequent broke him out of his own focus bubble. When you insisted the two of you have a study date, you were unsurprisingly met with the excuse of neither of you having the same major. “It doesn’t matter, we can just sit in the library. It’s spending quality time together Kiyoomi,” you’d told him. And it was true, sort of. After you’d finally got into the groove of studying, time seemed to fly and just knowing he was there was comforting enough. “(Y/N). You’re distracting me.” Sakusa was too blunt for his own good sometimes. All you could offer was a mumbled half assed apology, watching as he attempted to focus on his work again. You however? Were done for the time being, deciding to preoccupy yourself with your phone and taking not so sneaky glances at the man sitting in front of you. 

“If you paid as much attention to your work as you did me, you’d be doing better in that class.” Maybe he had a point, but who cared. It's not like you were failing the course. Taking another glace up you manage to catch his eye before responding.

“But you're prettier.”

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Month 7

You felt the dip in the bed first. A warm hand resting softly on your back next. Finally your favorite person’s voice. “You're coming to the game right.” You were so tired that you couldn't  even be bothered to turn and face the voice.

“Of course. First home game in a while,” you hum out, eyes still closed basking in the softness of the blanket. The weather had been terrible for the past week, completely draining any energy and remaining motivation you had to finish the rest of the semester. Sakusa, on the other hand, had seemingly been unaffected and you envied his tunnel vision like nature. “I can’t wait to see you win y’know.” Sakusa thanked his lucky stars, that your eyes were still closed, because if not you may have seen the red that dusted the tops of his ears. You could hear the sound of hangars knocking in the closet before inquiring about the noise.

“You don’t have a clean jersey for tomorrow’s game right.” He knew that you had a general school fan jersey, but he meant something more specific. One with his number on the back.  

“Nothing is guaranteed. The other team is pretty good too.”

“Yeah well, you're better.” --

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1 If you heard one last critiquing remark from your boyfriend you were going to scream. Or kill him, which currently sounded like the better option. It started with him telling you your kitchen smelled weird, the food cooked hours earlier obviously not Sakusa approved. Next came him cringing as he inquired when was the last time you or roommate had vacuumed the living room. Then came his annoyed look when he noticed your skincare products all over the bathroom counter because you had to rush out this morning. The last straw came as he said something about you getting germs all over your face as you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes. While that one had some validity you were fucking tired. School was sucking, your coworkers are annoying and your boyfriend is a fucking dick. “Can you not try to not be a germaphobe asshole for two seconds, Sakusa,” you exclaim, not even bothering to face him from your spot at your desk. “Do better with cleaning then.” 

“What are you, my dad.”

“If I were, you’d know how to clean up properly.”

It was official. Sakusa, Kiyoomi fucking sucks. The tension in the air had grown. Between your pissed stress related retorts and sakusa’s stupid passive aggressive insults the two of you had navigated far away from just arguing about germs. You’d both begun bringing up past situations and feelings that you’d both previously kept buried. 

“Half the time I don’t even know if you fucking like me.” That was a lie. He cared and you knew it. But former insecurities paired with his generally aloof nature whenever the two of you were in public caused you to mention it. Insecurties concerning how he was on his way to something great, and that he’d leave you behind with a stupid college degree that you didn’t even know how you were going to use. You’d long abandoned your desk chair, opting to pace around the room. If his eyes were knives, you’d be long dead with the way he was glaring. You hadn’t noticed, but Sakusa even pulled his mask down to engage in this argument. 

“Well thats just stupid. But since you're bringing it up, do you even like me,” Sakusa sneered causing you to stop in place.“You’re going out an awful lot these days. Partying more than you used to, aren’t you.” Your state of disbelief hadn’t been lost on him, in fact you looked as if you were going to start laughing at any moment. The way he condescendingly spoke your name sent chills down your spine. “Can’t help but wonder what you’re doing.”

“Oh so now I’m cheating-.” 

“I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” He’d hit the realization that he messed up the second the insinuation left his lips. However, he was too far in and so were you. He’d have to make it up to you later, he began to think. Until your humourless laugh filled the air, striking a cord in him, bigger than you’d ever done. This entire night you’d been a ticking time bomb, and were ready to explode. 

“Now why the fuck, would I put up with you if I didn’t love you. A year of my life just wasted huh.” The revelation of your love causes Sakusa to pause. Of course the two of you loved one another. It was shown in the little actions. But, until now neither of you had ever uttered the three words to one another.

“(Y/N-)”

“Newsflash, Kiyoomi, you're not an easy person to love. You nag me about shit that only bothers you, and I put up with it. I can’t even come around you with mismatched socks”

“You never want to go out to any kind of party with me and I want you there, yet I’m always willing to go out when you have to with the team.”

“You barely even show that you like me in public. I’ve had friends ask me are we even really dating.”

The end of your rant was accompanied by silence on both of your ends. You were drained. Your throat hurt and your eyes stung. But more importantly your heart ached.  Despite the tears building at the back of your eyes you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Sakusa on the other hand was deep in thought. The tug on his heartstrings at your admittance was foreign. He didn’t want to say anything to further upset you, and had gotten to know you enough to know you’d want to be alone after a time like this. 

The hand that grabbed yours almost felt foreign as Sakusa led you towards your bed. The already long day ending with a quick kiss against your temple, a promise to see you later, and an aching heart. 

--

“Did you and Sakusa- like break up or something,” your friend inquired. It's been 9 days since you’d last heard from Sakusa, and your mopey mood hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. On top of you being unusually downcast they noticed that you hadn’t attended the most recent match. You always went to home games. You already had to deal with the aftermath of your roommate being home and hearing your argument that night, you hadn’t exactly been that quiet during the ordeal. 

The next morning marked the start of the weekend, which you’d spent a large part of the day in bed. In the middle of you bothering to fix dinner, your roommate had come home interrupting your pity party. You liked your roommate, you did and the two of you were friendly. But the two of you definitely were not best friends and for them to come home and see you for the first time post argument- awkward. 

“Yo- (Y/N), did you hear me? You and Sakusa break up or something,” your friend repeated, breaking you out of your wandering thoughts. “Or something,” you muttered bitterly. The lunch in front of you suddenly looked unappealing. The melting ice cubes floating in your drink taking away your attention. 

Just as you began to take your mind off Sakusa in preparation to try and have a relatively normal weekend, your friend just had to bring him up. You loved her, but she was a dumbass for that one. Your entire car ride home you turned on your breakup playlist one you’d made during the demise of your last relationship back in highschool. Something about Miley Cyrus’ 7 Things felt more relatable than ever now that you were older. 

Entering your apartment, you waved a greeting to your roommate who looked strangely happy. “Oh (Y/N), you’ve got a gift.” Ok- why the hell was she so cheery about a gift to you. Eying her suspiciously, your roommate pointed past you and your eyes widened.

“Who-”

“Who do you think? Dropped them off a little over an hour ago. Looked disappointed when he realized you weren’t here.”

You half mumbled something kin of appreciation for telling you as you walked toward the kitchen table to see a bouquet of roses, and a card with neatly scribbled handwriting you recognized immediately. 

“One rose for every month of putting up with me being a germophobic asshole. Google also said roses meant love. Hope you like them.

P.s: i missed you at the game (and in general)”

14 roses. He even included the two months where you teetered the line between friends and partners. You couldn’t help but laugh at his use of your word choice to describe him. You hadn’t even noticed your roommate peering over your shoulder until she spoke. “He means well. You two should work it out.” If you weren’t planning to before you sure as hell were going to now. “Yeah,” you mused. “You're right.

The gears in your head were absolutely turning, thinking about how you’d reach back out to Sakusa. Obviously he’d been the bigger person and made the first contact, and yeah he was definitely being a jerk that night, but so were you. You were so caught in your own thoughts as you made your way down the short hallway to your room that you hadn’t even noticed the slight rustling. Opening your door you were met with an even bigger surprise. 

Sakusa. In your room, gloved up, vacuum out-He was cleaning? Your room?. Your brain short circuits as you were at a loss for words.

“Kiyoomi?” The sound of your roommate teasing telling you two to keep it down went beyond your span of comprehension as you just stood in the doorway. “You should close the door. 

---

After you got past the initial shock of seeing Sakusa, he’d taken his gloves off and sat on your bed wordlessly patting the spot next to him. After a brief moment of silence you were the first one to speak. Afterall, he did take the first step at mending your relationship. Now it's your turn. “I’m sorry Kiyoomi. For snapping at you, questioning how you felt when I knew better. I was a bitch for that one. 

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. I knew how stressed you were already and made it worse. I know how you get when you're upset, and came to straighten up for you.”

“Thanks for that one. I’ll admit, it was starting to bother me too.” A silence filled the air as you shifted closer. Enough so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I know you’re not cheating on me-“

“Wow, how did you figure that out. You are SO smart,” you faked gasped. The�� teasing comment released any lingering tension between you and before you knew it Sakusa had his normal frowny face at you. The one he tended to get when you jokingly teased or annoyed him. One, never meant with any malice. A softer one reserved just for you. The moment passed quickly and as you removed your head from his shoulder you eyed him seriously. “I wouldn't do that Yoomi. You know that right?”

The thought of him even thinking you’d ever cheat on him didn’t sit right with you. In fact, it had been the main reason you were upset. You could work past anything else said. But that one? You needed to acknowledge it. Your question had been answered when you felt a hand gently rest on the side of your neck pulling you gently towards him. You were so close that you could feel the move of his lips as he reaffirmed what was already known. “I love you too (Y/N). The universe seemed to stop as Sakusa's lips moved softly against yours. you had moved your lingering hand to wrap around the wrist touching you, rubbing gentle circles on his inner wrist. A hold that unconsciously tightens as you felt his tongue languidly slip into your mouth and explore.This kiss was different than any you’d ever shared before. Different from the quick kisses shared when you’d two part ways at the end of dates. Different than the domineering good luck kisses given in quiet hallways outside the locker room before games. Than the tired kisses he’d reluctantly give because your tired whining grated his nerves. Hell, even different than the kisses shared the first time you two had sex. Those were just awkward. This kiss? Was loving. You two loved one another. Those feelings had been made more than clear to the other person. The universe always told you that falling in love too fast and too young would end in disaster. But you’d risk that if you could feel like this everyday. 

The need for air forced the two of you to pull away. In that time Sakusa had shifted the two of you so that he was resting against the headboard of your bed, your knees resting on the side of his knees. One hand on your thigh, other resting on your back. He looked so pretty like that. Puffy lips, heavily breathing, and with so much love for you. There was no doubt you looked the same. The rest of his forehead on your shoulder allowed you to gently play with his hair. 

“I’ll work on the other things too. But don’t expect me to take care of your drunk ass every weekend.”

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 1, Month 10 

“How’s it going Mr MVP.” You pushed your body off the chilled brick, as you eyed your boyfriend up and down. He looked good, really good. He’d just finished the last game of his collegiate career, one that had been won. Not only that, but he had been named MVP and a rookie to look out for going into Division 1 post graduation. 

You shifted your hands towards his face but before you could even rest them near you he stopped you with a mini hand sanitizer dangling in your face. “I’m sure you touched that brick while waiting.” After your hands were as sanitized as they could be, you hovered your hands over the corner of his mask, silently asking for permission to lower it. Once you got the go ahead, and felt his hands resting on your hips you pulled him down for a sweet kiss. After pulling away you left your hands wrapped around his neck and began playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. 

“You’re a fucking superstar Yoomi. You’re gonna go so far.” You revealed the thoughts that had been in the back of your mind since you met him. And it was true. You knew he’d been looking at a few professional teams, and no matter where he’d go the sky was the limit. 

“Now c’mon. It’s party time babe. Last college win celebration,” you cheered pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, and pulling his mask back out. You followed up by reaching into the pocket of his track jacket to pull out his car key. He kept true with his promise of getting better. Still hated unnecessary crowds, but was willing to sacrifice it occasionally to accompany you to celebratory parties. Granted he tended to hang out on less populated hallways, even better when parties continued outside. More space to move. The mask also stayed on. College kids are gross. 

—-

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you noticed your boyfriend move from his spot on the couch. The two of you had decided on a lazy movie night before the official finals grind began. Dead week was nearly here, and you knew the two of you would have little time to actually hang out. With the end of volleyball season, you’d been spending more time at Sakusa’s place deciding to just head there after class because it was closer. “Yoomi where are you going,” the wording came out more needed than you intended. You didn’t receive an answer, instead met with him disappearing in his room. You decided to just pause the movie, pulling out your phone to reply to a few text messages. Just as you hit send a Manila envelope was placed in your peripheral and Sakusa settled back into his corner of the couch. 

“What’s this,” you questioned, shifting so that you were looking at Sakusa. The only thing you were gifted with was a shrug and a motion to open the envelope. You hesitated a moment before your eyes widened

“Wait. Kiyoomi is this…”. The confident smirk told you everything you needed to know. This was it. There was no secret that Sakusa was most likely going to go pro after graduation, but no one knew what team he’d end up playing for. He’d had many people; Professors, coaches,teammates, acquaintances, parents ask what he planned on doing now that graduation was essentially on your doorsteps. No one ever got an answer out of him, including you. He hadn’t even hinted at any team preference to you, brushing it off and changing the subject whenever you tried to see where his head was. 

“Are you gonna open it or just stare.” You noted the slight waver in his voice, one that would have gone unnoticed to any ear untrained in the study of Sakusa Kiyoomi. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous, it wasn’t even your career. Taking a deep breath you pulled out the stack of papers, eyes drifting to the first paragraph mumbling the words aloud. 

“We are excited to have you. We welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-“ you would have dropped the stack of papers had you not had them tugged out of your tight grip and placed on the table in front of you. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed, launching yourself at your boyfriend (uncomfortably knocking him against the corner of the couch, but he’d let you have this moment.)

Next you started babbling about how proud you were of him in between kisses all over his face. (Another thing he’d let you have for the moment despite the feel of your lip balm also sticking onto his face”). You were so happy for him, that you didn’t even notice the blush making its way on his face. His hand settling themselves on your waist, he basked in the attention from you. 

When the shock managed to wear off, you had settled yourself into his lap. Sitting sideways, you had one hand playing with his hair, the other picking up your phone to record a video. 

“And today, we have the greatest volleyball player in the world commuting to the greatest team in the world,” you beamed the front camera on you both. 

“Look at that future (Y/N), Yoomi isn’t even swatting the camera away tonight. Looks like he looooooves me for once-“

“I always love you. You’re just annoying sometimes.” The jest was meant with a light kiss on your clothed shoulder before you continued, this time facing Sakusa instead of the camera

“Y’know. I knew right from the start there was no limit to you,” you spoke softly, eyes beaming.

“Is that so.” A real smile graced his face, as you moved the hand previously playing with his hair to gently trace over the moles on his face. “Thank you for believing.” You felt Sakusa take your phone from you cutting the camera. What took place after, definitely didn’t need to be caught on camera. 

—

The sun is beaming. The weather is incredible . You were high on happiness, adrenaline, pride and maybe a little bit of caffeine as you currently posed for what felt like your millionth picture in the past 5 minutes. You hadn’t even found your family yet, surrounded by 100s of your peers all celebrating the same accomplishment. You did it. You were a college graduate. You had a degree. You felt another tap on your shoulder, as you happily screamed to your friend you’d made being in the same program. 

“Dude I can't believe it!”

“Dude me either!” As the two of you took a quick selfie, your mind wandered to where and how Sakusa was doing. You hadn't seen him at all yet considering you both spent the mornings with your families who came into town. You wondered how he was doing with this whole thing. There were a shit ton of people out here after all. Before you could dwell on it, you felt your phone vibrate with none other than the man himself. You chuckled, already sending his irritation through the message as he told you to come to walk west, at the very edge of the crowd that was growing by the minute in the center. You sent a quick text to your mom about where you’d be, knowing your family were going to want a ton of pictures even with Sakusa. 

Your excitement grew further if even possible as you finally found him, throwing your arms around his neck into a tight hug, swaying the both of you. “We did it, Sakusa,” you said, finally pulling away and eying him. He’d taken his cap off already, opting for holding it instead, and having unzipped his gown. 

“We have degrees now,” he confirmed using his free hand to grab yours. “It’s too many people here.” All you could do was laugh as you eyed the control chaos going on just across the courtyard from you. You felt an odd sense of peace, just watching. The flowers planted just for graduation season even looked beautiful. Something you may not have paid nearly as much attention to had you not been dating Sakusa. 

In fact, if you weren’t dating him you knew you’d be in the middle of the chaos right now. Still happy no doubt, but being able to get away from it even for a few minutes felt amazing. You’d both be thrown back into it in a matter of minutes, squeezing in the last set of pictures with best friends and holding conversations with people you’d have to get used to not seeing several times a week. You knew that Sakusa was almost guaranteed to be forced into a picture with the other graduating volleyball players. 

“My families heading over I’m sure,” you hummed bringing your eyes back to Sakusa's profile. The look on his face slightly confuses you. You couldn’t quite tell if it were nerves, irritation, or just a result of squinting from the bright sun. 

“We’re gonna have to head back in soon”

“Do you want to move in with me”

The two of you spoke simultaneously. It was official. This is one of the best days of your life. 

--

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 4 

“I’m gonna start dinner alright,” you called out as you pulled on one of Sakusa’s clean practice shirts and a pair of his old college sweats. Yes they were big,but they were more comfy than your own. Besides it was nothing a little, (read;a lot) of rolling and cuffing couldn’t fix. It was also his time of the month where you let him control the thermostat, and you’re cold! You’d just gotten out of the shower, him getting in shortly after coming home from a training day. The gym showers only do so much and he needed his own body wash is what he insisted the first time he came home and rushed immediately towards the bathroom. 

You pulled out the sheet of paper with a recipe printed on it, courtesy of your co-worker. Earlier in the week you mentioned how you were craving chicken but no other recipe in your arsenal seemed appealing. Lo and behold you were given a sheet of paper with a recipe that apparently his family loved after experimenting with a few online recipes. 

Before beginning you connect your phone to your speaker hitting shuffle. You manage to get all the ingredients out before a large knock sounds at your door. Confused, you yell out asking Sakusa if he was expecting anyone. You noticed the sounds of the shower ceased a few minutes ago, and that Sakusa would likely come to keep you company (more like sanitize the spice bottles the second you put one down.)

“Of course not,” with a shrug your wash your hands before gently opening the door. There’s a man. An attractive one- who looks oddly familiar. Wait, that guy is on Black Jackals, you note. Miya, Atsumu. 

“Um hi,” you greet sounding more like a question, opening the door a bit wider. 

“Shit! Did I come to the wrong apartment? I'm looking for Omi-Omi,” you noticed him trail off eyeing the shirt you were wearing. Omi-Omi? Sakusa must’ve heard him because the way he sprinted into the living room showed a scowl evident on his face. It even caused you to back up as Atsumu entered in. 

“Why are you here. And how did you find where I live,” sakusa for right to the point. 

“Aw c’mon Omi-Omi what if I missed ya. You left your earbuds in the locker room. Turned on you find my friends and matched the mailbox.” The glare on Sakusa’s face was one you recognized only when you genuinely irritated him. Not the one where he pretended to be annoyed but secretly wasn’t. 

“But enough about that. How come you didn’t tell me you were dating. I thought we were friends. Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whined out arms crossing over his chest. As you were looking at his arms/ respectfully/ you jumped in a teasing pout of your own. 

“Yeah Omi-Omi. Not telling your friends about me. A shame”

“Not you too.”

—

Dating Sakusa Kiyoomi: Year 2, Month 6 

“You excited,” your question causes another wave of conversation between the men in the pre waiting area. Warmups were set to start in about 20 minutes. Shortly after you met Atsumu, he’d insisted you be introduced to the entire team. Afterall, other significant others got to hang out sometimes. Today was the day. Sakusa’s biggest match of his professional career yet. MSBY Black Jackals V Schweiden Adlers.

Receiving a mix of enthusiastic expletives, you turn towards your boyfriend who has yet to answer, prompting you to tease asking if he were nervous. 

“No. We’re going to win,”

“That's the spirit Omi-Omi! Gonna beat Wakatoshi this time,” This time you bit back your laugh, smirking at the Miya twin’s jest. You loved getting able to take a break from being annoying.  Sakusa, as per usual, noticed it. Getting up he motioned, that you follow him outside, ignoring the teases of getting a good luck kiss. 

The minute you two rounded the corner of the hallway, a warm hand enveloped yours. Your confused look prompts your boyfriend to cage you against the corner of the wall. His unoccupied hand resting against the side of your head.”

“I am excited.” While his expression remained unchanged, The look in his eyes said it all. It was the same twinkle he showed that time you two made up after admitting your love. And the one present after revealing his commitment to MSBY to you. “And you are going to win,” your reiteration caused a soft smile to catch his face. 

“Here's to you and your first major game Kiyoomi. And to many more because you're a star. Now go win.” 

a/n: well this has been a roller coaster. I challenged myself to write 5k words, and 95% of this was written at like 3am bc thats when i go to sleep. I also did this to try and gain a feel for him so i can finish his part in good & the bad  series. I really do be hoping this aint too ooc, bc while im caught up on the happenings of the manga from spoilers and twitter, i haven't actually gotten around to reading that far myself. also sorry for shitty formatting, ive never actually written a single body with this many words in a singular part ??? also i didnt edit this past google doc feature sooooo

anyways i did work hard and on this for the past week in between finals as a college junior so any comments and feedback are appreciated 

[eeveedel]

Before I go to bed -- a GOD TIER drabble @nevergoingbacknowshine  sent me today inspired by the chubby actor au  🥰🥰

Surprise :) for Del & the chubby friday fans :)

—-

Indulging in the Actor Louis AU - PT. 1

—-

Louis had a few fun things lined up for the next two days whilst Harry attended meetings with the rest of his fashion team in LA, it was rare he ever got to spend time alone unless it was being on set and away from home. Harry and Louis were always harryandlouis, and the entire world knew that.

What they didn’t know, was everything Louis did to rile Harry up whilst he was home alone. Or, just what the pair did in general.

“Hollywood’s fittest couple” hung in the balance as Louis had to lose weight for another role that required him to be slim and fit and run miles on end without breaking a sweat, and it was tiring Louis out. Granted, he decided he would never again reach his old physique of pure muscle, even for a role, because it didn’t make him happy anymore. The morning workouts, the constant bland food, tracking every calorie and macro was boring Louis to death - especially after having to gain 30 pounds for the previous role he just played.

So here he was, a weekend away from set, laying on the couch and stuffing his face with whatever he damn well pleased. In 20 minutes he decided he would get in the bath and indulge in some champagne with the silence of the house as his company before him and Harry had their facetime call later that night. Harry knew Louis was off this weekend and was sad he couldn’t reschedule his meetings to spend time with him, but they never missed a single day without wishing each other a good night over video call, no matter what time zone they happened to be in.

Louis had ordered just about everything his heart had been craving over the last two weeks he’d spent on set, hopelessly eating kale salads, green smoothies (that Harry would probably enjoy), and no meat in sight besides plain grilled chicken.

On the table in front of him now sat three large fries and a twenty piece chicken nugget from mcdonalds, two burgers from five guys, and a milkshake from shake shack - all of which arrived only about 5 minutes ago to the door of their California home, and Louis would be damned if he didn’t take this opportunity to make Harry wish he could teleport to their front door too.

Snapping a photograph of the impressive spread, Louis sent it away to the iphone of his husband all the way in some stuffy LA meeting space, while he began enjoying his meal like it was the last good one he would have for a while.

Not 10 minutes later when Louis was putting a burger wrapper and the first empty french fry container in the bag to be tossed when he was finished, his phone started buzzing like mad on the table before him.

H: “Are you kidding me Louis, I don’t even get to be there :(“

H: “The ONE WEEKEND I don’t get to spend with you and I can’t be there encouraging you?”

H: “Take it easy though, you have to be back on set in a few days, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the director for having a puffy face from the salt”

H: “this is an important meeting and here you are, ruining my thought process.”

H: “i’m kidding, i love you”

H: “but still.”

Louis couldn’t help but chuckle, he was going to leave Harry on read until he finished all of this food, just because he knows Harry will be losing his mind knowing that Louis was too preoccupied to answer right away.

And, when the phone started vibrating again, Louis knew he was right.

H: “too busy stuffing your face to answer me I see :(“

H: “you know, it’s not very nice of you to torture me when I’m 4 hours away.”

H: “loooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuubear”

Instead of answering, Louis sent him a picture of the now two empty french fry containers and both burger wrappers in the trash bag, hoping Harry would catch the hint.

H: “god damn it Louis William Tomlinson.”

With that, Louis kept eating, until everything was finished and he was struggling to suck down the rest of his vanilla milkshake.

When it was finished Louis’ belly ached from the amount of food it wasn’t as accustomed to anymore, and as he sat practically sedated on the couch, he got an idea.

He gave himself a few more minutes before picking up his feet and walking to the master bedroom, hand on his belly the entire way there, where he decided to take out one of his lace bodysuits.

Stripping out of his boxers and t-shirt, he slipped the soft lace on gently trying not to jostle his belly in the process, loving the way the lace scraped at his stretch marked skin while he pulled it on.

He glanced in the mirror and he lifted his arms to tie the top around his neck, noticing how his stomach was round and bloated from all the food packed into it.

Carefully, Louis laid on the bed after propping his phone up at the right angle, setting the timer, and beginning to pose for each shutter of the camera. This was going to drive Harry absolutely mad.

5 minutes later, after choosing and sending an appropriate photo captioned “babe my belly hurts :(“, Louis’ phone was again buzzing wildly.

H: “LOUIS I SWEAR TO GOD.”

H: “I’M IN A MEETING.”

H: “you know what”

H: “I hope it does, you did this to yourself whilst I wasn’t able to be there.”

Louis didn’t like the tone of that last text, so he sent another picture of just his hand resting on his belly for good measure, giggling like a madman after this time captioning it “do you think this body suit looks a little loose?”

H: “I think when I get home that body suit is going to be ruined.” Was the only reply Louis got before Harry put his phone on silent and buried it in his bag, hoping to feign innocence when he could feel his half hard on pressing against the zipper of his trousers.

Louis was a giggling mess as he rolled onto his back, continuing to rub his poor belly.

—-

It wasn’t an hour later when Louis was peacefully laying in the bathtub, still petting at his rounded tummy and sipping on some red wine that the doorbell rang a few times.

After about the fifth ring, Louis pulled himself out of the bath mumbling about who the hell could be visiting them today of all days, tying his bathrobe around his dripping body as he made his way down the staircase to the front door.

When he opened the door, he knew exactly who was to blame.

“Door dash, order for Louis Tomlinson.” The teenager looked less than enthused as he handed a large pizza and a small box of cupcakes over to Louis.

“Um…thank you” Louis said, taking the boxes before the teenager turned around to get back into his car.

L: “I can’t believe you”

L: “if you think I won’t finish all of this…”

Louis began walking back up to their master bath, setting the food down on the bed.

H: “facetime call in 30 minutes when I get to my hotel room.”

——

By the time 15 minutes flew past, Louis had already decided not to wait for Harry.

He knew what Harry would be expecting him to eat, so….he just decided to have something different so Harry wouldn’t know he had eaten more before their call.

Logic, right?

Wrong. Because after Louis had finished his fifth king size chocolate bar in the bath tub, his belly was not too happy with him and his choices.

He lifted himself out of the tub gently, his belly making angry noises at the movements. Louis stifled a burp into his palm begging for room to be made inside his tummy or Harry would know something was up.

No such luck when only a small air bubble was shifted, making him feel even more uncomfortable.

He was going to have to play pretend.

Trudging to the bed to lay down for a few minutes, Louis hoped the food would shift around even a little bit to make room for what he was sure Harry would expect him to eat on the call. He reached his hand down to grip the swell of his bloated belly, angry with his decision to play this game.

When his Skype began ringing a few minutes later he had picked out a soft set of lace to lay down in front of the camera for his husband. He laid on his side, his head propped up on one hand that was propped by his elbow on the soft comforter, and pressed the answer button.

“Hey sweetie, I missed you so-“ Harry stopped when he realized what he was looking at and Louis smirked in pleasure as he ran his hand over his belly.

“You…I haven’t been gone more than 24 and you look like you’ve put on weight Louis.” Harry blurted out not thinking.

“Well, they do say the camera adds 10 pounds so…” Louis said, picking up a cupcake to lick the icing off from the meal Harry had ordered for him. His belly gurgled softly in protest, knowing it would soon be packed beyond repair.

“I…I….Mhm.” Harry stuttered out as he watched Louis lick the white frosting off the cupcake, acting like he’d never experienced something like this before.

“Stunned to silence huh? Over a little lace? Surely you’re not a virgin we know this.” Louis laughed gently, his belly pushing forward a little more as he took a deep breath in preparation.

“Sorry sorry sorry, just…fuck I wish I was with you Lou you look…really fucking good. So fucking fit.” Harry blushed a deeper shade of red as he went to rest his head in his hands to watch.

“Fit? Hmmm….yeah if you say so. Wouldn’t use that term but..” Louis slapped his belly, helping to move the air enough for him to finally burp effectively, he was gonna need more room for this food if he was going to trick Harry - and he wanted nothing more than to see Harry’s face when he finished this.

“Not like I’ll be running a few miles anytime soon yeah?” Louis said with a smirk as he took a bite out of the frosting-Less cupcake.

“We may live in America currently but you know what I mean when I say fit Louis” Harry deadpanned at his husband’s joke, even if the joke did make his dick twitch in interest. He wasn’t going to make Louis run or anything, maybe…maybe he’d have him top, just to tease him. Louis loved a good teasing.

“Yeah yeah, I know, tell me about your day sweetheart while I finish this for you.” Louis smiled as he picked up another cupcake, Harry detailing his slew of fashion meetings for the upcoming spring season - all the types of fabrics and colors that were projected to be on trend that Harry wanted to be ahead of.

“And of course they chose this shade of violet that was just…ridiculous Louis you should’ve seen it I -“ Harry stopped off as Louis interrupted him stifling another burp into his palm.

“You’re really struggling through this one babe?” Harry asked with interest laced in his tone. Louis had only had the two cupcakes and three slices of pizza, he wasn’t anywhere near finished and usually he would be plowing through a meal this simple.

He so wished he could be there to force the food into a tied up Louis’ mouth.

“Mmmm I, yeah, I guess I am.” Louis set the cupcake he was working on down and rolled onto his back, rubbing his distended belly that was on full display for Harry and the camera, groaning as the food shifted around in his tummy.

“Harrrrryyyyyy, my belly hurts” Louis whined as his right hand joined his left on top of his belly, slowly moving lower to knead the pudge below his belly button.

“Louis…god, what did….what did you even eat today? Did you eat again before this call?” Harry’s interest was peaking, his dick hard as he questioned why Louis’ stomach was so round and firm, the pressure of all the food packed so tightly in his belly making the older boy groan.

“N-no I wouldn’t, you wanted me to wait for you.” Louis cheeks were giving his lies away as they became a cute shade of pink.

“Louis, tell me the truth. There is no way you’re this full from this meal - I’ve seen you eat far more in less time with an embarrassing amount of ease.” Harry huffed, Louis had to be lying.

“Embarrassing? I take pride in that, you know. I worked hard to be able to eat so much in such a little time.” Louis glared at the computer screen as his left house pinched at his lower belly for emphasis.

“I take pride in it too, after all, you are bursting with my love. Now be honest and tell me what you ate.” Harry said, voice firm. He was not playing games if he couldn’t be there to absolutely wreck his boy.

“Mmmmm, Harry” Louis frowned as his belly made a very loud unhappy noise, moving his hand to pat his upper belly as if apologizing to it.

Harry stayed silent as he waited for his answer.

“Fine, yes, I ate candy. A lot of candy.” Louis huffed as he rolled back onto his side gently, cradling his belly as a pregnant woman would.

“Hmm, why did you lie?” Harry mused, entertained by Louis having to eat before their Skype call.

“Because I wanted to be able to do this, eat all this food, and then tell you I got hungry before hand and ate even more.” Louis poutted, looking directly into the camera.

“Well, looks like this is going to be a very long Skype call. Because you’re going to eat, all of this.” Harry’s tone was not to be played with.

“Can I…can I wait for just a few more minutes? My belly is so tight Harry, please.” Louis stifled yet another burp into his palm, finally the food beginning to digest.

“A few minutes honey, then you’re going to finish the pizza. The cupcakes can wait.” Harry took pity on his husband, knowing Louis was much better as finishing stuffings when he was physically there to help.

“Okay okay, yeah, a couple minutes.” Louis rolled back onto his back, patting his tummy. “Maybe….maybe it’s not the camera that adds 10 pounds” Louis chuckled at his previous joke.

“I knew you looked bigger than you did, you bastard. Your belly does look really tight baby boy, wish I could be there to help” Harry frowned. He missed Louis’ soft skin, running his fingers up and down his curves, patting his belly from behind. Even if it had only been a day since he had left.

“Yeah, don’t know what I weigh right now” Louis jiggled his belly, what he could with it being so full. “That’s your job” He looked into the camera at Harry with a smile.

“What I do know is that I haven’t stopped eating since you left, genuinely. We’re definitely going to have to go shopping when you come home, I might clean the house out.” Louis giggled a little bit at that.

“Hmmmm, my baby boy has been hungry lately hasn’t he? We can certainly buy whatever you’d like when I come back.” Harry smiled brightly, always happy for Louis’ appetite to be growing with him.

[angstyryguy]

A Digital Fever

no pairings

no spoilers for anything in the series, it’s just somewhere during season 1

themes: whump, sickfic

words: 3668

Summary:

Ryan is a Walker and Walkers do not get sick. So when Ryan goes to school with a high fever and his powers in turmoil, what else can happen than something bad?

******

A common cold was not something the Ryan Walker could have. He didn’t get sick. That was his whole thing.

...Apart from the whole “controlling technology with his mind" of course. That was still an important thing.

Oh, and the fact that he was one of the pilots of Mech X4…

Yeah, he actually had a couple of things, but that was beside the point. The point was, he didn’t get sick, so now that his nose was a little runny and his brain was a little slow as he woke up from the infuriatingly loud blaring of his alarm clock, he was fine. It didn’t matter that he swayed a bit as he stood from his bed, or that he didn’t feel like eating his mom’s newest experimental breakfast food. Everything was totally– 

“Hey, you okay Ry-guy?”

“Fine.”

Ryan and Mark were seated at the kitchen table as their mom was preparing the batter for her food truck's famous pancakes. She eyed Ryan with her scanning motherly eyes as her spatula was frozen mid-spin in the bowl. She didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

Ryan quickly grabbed his fork to stuff his mouth with eggs. He looked her in the eyes as he chewed. See? he tried to show his mom, I’m totally fine. 

She sighed and set about mixing her batter again, seemingly content enough that he was at least eating now. He was glad her motherly instincts didn’t mean she could actually read minds. He really didn't want her to know just how hard it was to swallow even the smallest bite. His stomach turned even as he thought about it.

He shuffled his food around on his plate with his fork for a bit, making it seem as if he had touched more of it than just that one bite, and then quickly left the kitchen table. He grabbed his bag just as Mark scraped his plate clean. Show off. 

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Ryan said, already heading out of the door. He couldn’t actually go to school without Mark, since he was his ride, but acting like he was leaving without him helped with the pressure to get Mark to follow. He wanted this day to be over as quickly as possible. Mark gave a quick goodbye smile to mom and dashed off after Ryan, his own bag sloppily thrown over one shoulder.

“Hey wait up!”

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

School was dreaded for a reason, but when you were definitely not sick, it was even worse. The first half of the day went by slow, like really slow, but manageable. Lessons were boring, teachers were not too terrible and the low buzz of the school board, the computers, smartphones and lamps were not too distracting. 

No, if only lessons had been his school day, he would have survived it.

But he hadn’t thought about lunch time. The canteen was filled with chaos and noise. His mind felt like it was being crushed little by little with every yell and every time someone laughed. All the phones of all the students were buzzing and ringing and going off at the same time, or at least it felt like it. Nails tapped on screens and batteries hummed in disharmony. The constant noises pained his ear drums and filled his head with a hundred stabbing needles.

He was so overwhelmed from the sound, he couldn’t help but flinch a little when suddenly a hand patted him on his shoulder.

Spyder appeared before him. “Are you gonna stand in the doorway the whole time?" A mischievous grin spread on his face. "Because I will gladly take your sandwiches if you aren’t up for it you know? Maybe then I can finally build a tower of cheese. Man, I have always wanted to do that.”

Harris punched Spyder in his side. “No one’s taking Ryan’s sandwiches, dude. Now, are we gonna go to our table or what? I want to finish up on my project before the next term starts.”

Ryan softly shook his head to get rid of the slowly creeping nausea and to try and shake away all the sounds, but he wasn’t successful at all. No matter, he could hold on until he could be home and safely in his bed again. Just half a day left.

“Yeah, yeah let’s go, I’m starving.”

The trio sat at their usual table and as always, Spyder and Harris lost themselves in a debate over something incredibly stupid. This time it was about the best kind of sandwich to ever exist. Spyder insisted that his abomination of a sandwich, with salmon, cheese, peanut butter and chocolate spread, topped off with a little bit of mashed potatoes, was the most delicious thing in the world. Meanwhile Harris was sure that combination of flavors shouldn't even be legal.

Ryan sighed as he tuned out the voices of his friends and instead took out his phone. Maybe some dumb video's would help him ignore his throbbing headache for a while. He clicked on one of Cassie's reports on the school's kickbox team. Of course, his brother was the big star of the video, and normally he didn't like watching Mark get so much praise, but he couldn't care less right now. He just had to watch something. Anything to distract himself.

Just as Cassie went over the most recent victory of the team, a loud voice broke through it.

"Hi sweetie, how's your first day?" The voice was loud, but Ryan was sure it came from the other side of the canteen, where a freshman was calling with his mom. Why would he set the call on speaker?

Ryan turned back and ignored it, but soon another sound interrupted his video. The annoying 8-bit soundtrack of a mobile game echoed through his mind, the sound of clashing swords and yelling characters making it even more annoying. What stupid kid let his sound on extra loud when he was gaming during school break? A drop of sweat slid down his temple. Cheering rang in his ears as the kid cleared his level and it hurt. It was loud and awful and his head was swimming and throbbing and pulsing with every beat. 

Ryan shivered in his thick hoodie.

"No dad, you don't have to pick me up," another student said as he was calling from a few tables away.

Ryan huffed and kept staring at his phone, even though the he didn't register anything Cassis said in her video. He still kept trying.

Tap, tap, tap. In the row for the food, someone was texting their friends, every tap with their thumb banging against his skull.

Ryan looked to his left. A teacher was checking his news feed, sirens wailing,  people screaming, shouting - some video about the most recent monster attack. To his right, a girl was filming a video with her friends, laughing, playing music, typing a caption and then laughing again. They were so loud.

More videos, more games, more typing, more voices. Every second it got louder, every second it seemed to penetrate further and further into his mind.

Tap Tap Tap. 

Screaming.

Laughing.

Sirens.

Cheering.

Tap Tap Tap. 

Ryan clutched his phone tighter and shut his eyes, willing for the ever growing buzzing of the lamps and phones and laptops and screens to stop.

It all had to stoppleasestopit'stoomuchtooloudMAKEITSTOP-

The sizzling of something burning made his mind snap out of it. Ryan quickly looked down where his phone lay in his hands, broken and blackened, a small trail of smoke coming from it.

Oops. 

His eyes darted up to look if anyone had seen that - and to his relief no one did - so he quickly hid his phone under the table and let it slide into his bag. He would deal with that later.

Since he had no way of distracting himself anymore, and the sounds around him were now even making his vision grow wobbly as they pounded against his brain, Ryan knew he had to make a run for it. It was not like he had actually wanted to eat school food anyway, so no loss there.

"Hey guys?" He said, his left arm smoothly disappearing under the table. "I think I left my mech-link in the classroom. I'll go get it. See you later okay?"

Before the other two could answer, Ryan stood up and turned around, tucking his left arm in the pocket of his hoodie so they couldn't see his mech-link still nicely around his wrist. Briskly, he walked away, ignoring how his eyes couldn't focus or how he could throw up any second. He was fine.

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

Okay, maybe, just maybe, Ryan was not fine. After the small incident with his phone, he had accidentally also fried the teacher's smartwatch during PE when the teacher had blown his whistle right next to Ryan's ear out of nowhere. On top of that, he had also derailed someone's electronic car when he had been waiting on Mark outside of the school and the speakers had blasted the ringing bell right above his head. So you could say he was a little bit jumpy and a lot bit nauseous, and maybe not totally fine, but he would manage. He was Ryan Walker and Walkers didn't get sick.

Whatever. It didn’t matter if he finally admitted to himself that something was wrong, because as soon as school was out, he and Mark had headed straight to Mech X4 when they had gotten a monster alert.

Sick or not, Ryan was the only one who could stop it, so he had to power through. He could do this. Probably. Maybe.

As the gang made their way out of the awful elevator and to their stations, Ryan had to physically swallow down the urge to puke. That elevator hadn't helped in the slightest.

Ryan clicked the belt around his middle and the robot rose from its hiding spot. A rough cough came from him as he tried to move the robot into kneeling position, but he played it off as an awkward cough instead of the start of bile rising in his throat. He had to concentrate or otherwise he'd short-circuit the robot.

However, the miserable attempt didn't go unnoticed. 

"Hey man, you okay?" Spyder asked from behind him.

Ryan nodded, but regretted immediately as his head spun with the sudden motion.

"Yeah, of course, I'm fine," he said and readied his feet to jump. Spyder seemed to want to ask something else, but Ryan cut him off. 

"Mech, Execute!" he yelled and jumped away. Now was not the time to worry about himself. They had people to save.

"The monster just popped up next to the river at the other side of the city, what would it want there?" Harris asked out loud. He was furiously typing and checking the screens as he followed the beast's movements on his maps. "Wait, where is it – oh. Oh no."

Mark bent over the rails to look at the screens. "What? What is it dingus?" 

"The monster! It's heading straight for us! How is it so fast?!"

Ryan's head shot up when he noticed the beast flying straight at them at a rapid speed. "Guys, it's here!"

He barely had enough time to raise his arms in front of his head before the monster crashed right into them, hitting Mech X4 with such devastating force that Ryan was shot into the air, a couple of cables exploding behind him from the rough impact.

"Ryan are you okay?!" Mark yelled.

Ryan swallowed and lifted his head from the cold floor. "Yeah I'm good," he said as he carefully stood up again. The giant monster in front of them was already readying itself for the next attack.

Ryan rolled his shoulders and raised his fists in fighting position. He ignored the cold sweat building on his forehead. "Let's finish this quick. Spyder?"

"One plasma punch coming right up." Spyder slid his chair back from the desk and grabbed a hold of his weapon arm.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Ryan and Spyder simultaneously drew back their arms and swung them back as Mech X4 did the same with his glowing fist. The monster had been distracted, working up the power to hit again, but was instead swept off his feet when the fist hit full force. It fell to the ground with a large growl, but was still moving.

"Again!" Ryan yelled, already jumping up again to do it.

"Wait dude, it needs to recharge first, we need to buy some time!" Spyder frantically punched his buttons as he read from the screen. "If we do it now, it will be like a grandma punch!" He stopped mid-punching his buttons as he thought about something. "Wait. Nevermind, my grandma would punch this dude into tomorrow. Okay what about, if we used it right now it would be like if Harris punched it!"

Harris spun in his chair with a "not cool, son," before he got back to his scanning and getting up the shields. Mark and Ryan silently grinned. It was an accurate comparison.

"Okay, Harris, how are we with the shields?"

"Almost done and… now they're up!"

And just in time too, because as soon as Ryan turned back to the large window, he saw the monster getting back to his feet again. It let out a low growl as its wings spread out in warning.

"Get ready, he's coming back!"

The robot stepped back as Ryan raised his fists and braced for the next attack. The monster darted forward, its claws barely missing the chest of the robot as Ryan ducked out of the way. Then, it lifted itself on his back legs and rose into the sky, its wings harshly pushing away the wind. As the gang was too distracted by the strong winds that almost pushed the robot off his feet, they didn't see the tip of the monster's tail, heading straight for the head. It clashed against the shield and bounced back, while in the process it successfully pushed Ryan and the robot out of balance, both failing to the ground with a thud.

Ryan grunted his way through the pain as he got back up. They were almost done with this and then he could hide himself in his blankets for the rest of the day. Almost there, almost done.

The beast lashed out again as it clawed against the shield. It seemed to try to rip it open.

"The shields won't hold this for long! Spyder is the plasma punch ready?"

"Almost…" Spyder tapped impatiently against his desk, his eyes glued to his screen.

"Ryan watch out!" Mark yelled. Ryan lifted his arms in front of his head just as the monster ripped away the shield, the pixels giving way as the energy ran out. The monster flew forward and extended its claws as it headed for the head. Without the shields, all Ryan could do was hold his ground and cover himself, not even finding an opening to strike back.

"Spyder?!"

"Almost…"

The beast struck out with a right hook and got around Ryan's defenses, punching the robot hard against his head. Ryan whipped back from the impact and clutched his jaw. That hurt. His eyes watered and refused to focus anymore. A shiver ran down his spine, even if he himself felt like he was burning from the inside.

"Spyder?!"

"I'll say when it's ready!"

The monster hit again and again, sparks flying around the control center as Ryan bounced around in his harness. He was literally being beaten to a pulp and all his strength failed him. He was too weak. 

He was… not fine at all.

Mark was pacing across the deck, checking his screens and performing quick damage control. "Spyder, we can't take much more!"

Spyder spun in his chair and pulled back his attack handle. "It's ready!"

Immediately, Ryan stumbled to his feet and raised his fists. Please let this be the final attack, he wished desperately. His mind screamed at him to never move again and just give up, but he just had to do one more thing. Just this one thing. He could survive that. Ryan jumped into the air and brought his fist down with so much force that his knuckles burned. The hit landed, the robot's fist piercing straight through the monster's chest as it de-transformed into ooze and splashed to the ground. 

For a moment it was quiet, and then the team of Mech X4 burst out in cheers. They had finished it! Ryan smiled weakly as he sighed. His muscles burned, his vision swum, but they had done it. Finally. He wiped his sweat of his brow and roughly dropped to the floor, his legs giving out from under him. Now on his knees, he unbuckled his belt and let the harness fly up into its storage. When his hand returned from the motion however, something caught his eye. There was red on his hand. His eyes widened. There was blood on his hand. he was bleeding. That monster must have done more damage than he thought.

“Hey guys…” he said, his voice weak and barely audible. No one heard as the rest of the team congratulated each other with their victory. Ryan shivered.

“Guys…” was the final thing he said before he crashed down onto the floor, his vision and mind going blank as he did not even notice how all the lights and screens in the robot flickered and died out with him.

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

“...Ryan.”

“Ryan!”

“RYAN!”

Ryan jolted awake and immediately regretted it as he bend over and lost his diner from the day before. Someone patted him on the back as he retched, but his eyes were too blurry with tears to see who it was. Lights flickered around them.

The same hands placed him back down on the bed when he was done, wiping his forehead with a cold towel. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes again, already worn out from keeping his head upright.

“Get well soon…” Someone said and then he fell asleep once more.

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

The next time he woke, he didn’t get the urge to puke as soon as he opened his eyes. That was good news at least. A little dazed, he looked around the room. The Medbay. Of course.

“Guys! Guys, he’s awake!” Spyder’s voice yelled from too close next to him. In reflex, Ryan shut his eyes tight and groaned, his head not happy with the loud noise.

Two sets of footsteps entered the Medbay as the door slid open.

“Bro, are you okay?!” Ryan opened his eyes and saw Mark rushing towards him, sitting down next to the bed and placing a warm hand on his shoulder. On the older shoulder came Harris’ hand as his best friend shot a worried look at him.

“You scared us buddy,” he said and slightly squeezed his shoulder.

Ryan smiled weakly as he closed his eyes and sighed. “Sorry about that…”

“Do you wanna tell us what happened?” Harris said, his attention already going to the screens next to the bed to check on Ryan’s vitals.

Ryan slowly opened his eyes. “Guess that monster was stronger than I thought.”

“Nah man, that was like a level 5 monster. It wasn’t even made of the red ooze, just the orange,” Spyder said with a shrug, “You normally beat down level 10 monsters with ease.”

“Where did you come up with this rating system?” Harris asked confused.

“It’s just what the collector’s cards say, I didn’t make it.”

“We have collector's cards?” Mark asked eagerly.

Harris shot them both an incredulous look before he turned his attention back to Ryan with an eye roll. 

“The scanners are picking up a high temperature, on top of signs of dehydration and not enough nutritions to give your body the energy to heal as fast. Ryan, did you eat at all yesterday?”

Ryan averted his eyes to stare at the scanner beside him. “I didn’t.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows. “Dude, why wouldn’t you eat anything and still go to fight? Are you stupid? You could have die–”

Ryan flinched as Harris stopped Mark with a gesture of his hand. He shook his head at the older one of the Walker brothers.

“Ryan,” he said, his tone far more calm than Mark’s, “why didn’t you just say you were sick? We could’ve found another way to defeat the monster.”

“No we wouldn’t!” Ryan snapped, his eyes widening as soon as the words left his mouth. he hadn't meant to say it in that tone. He sighed. “Look, just, we all know that we need the robot to defeat the monsters and that we can do nothing with the robot without my powers. I had to fight. It was the only option. And honestly?” Ryan slowly pushed himself in sitting position with his arms. “I was fine doing it. Just got a nasty wound, that’s all.”

Harris shook his head. “This wasn’t just a nasty wound Ryan. On top of your fever, you have several bruised ribs and a large wound to your head. You’re lucky it was mostly superficial or it could have done serious damage to your brain.”

Mark nodded and patted Ryan’s head while Ryan weakly tried to push him off. “You hear that Dingus? No more fighting when you have a fever alright?”

Ryan successfully swatted away Mark’s hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You have to promise.”

“I promise Mark, I promise.” Ryan smiled softly and looked at his team. “Thank you though.”

“For what?” Spyder asked.

“For caring about me like this,” Ryan said and lay back down. He was tired. “I really don’t know what I could’ve done without any of you guys…” His voice got quieter as his eyelids closed, but before he fell asleep he still heard the “awww’s” around him. Yeah, he would definitely get teased about this later. 

For now though, he meant it. 

He loved his team.

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 16: The Video Call

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1909

Warnings: Smut, video sex, nudity, mutual masturbation, Daddy!Kink, Dom!Steve, sub!Reader, dirty talk, cussing.

A/N: Two smut chapters in a row... I feel very sinful.

Being a man from the 1940s, Steve Rogers was definitely not an expert at modern technology. All the new ways of photo sharing, video watching, and other electronic communication went right over his head. Steve was still baffled that phones didn’t have to be attached to cords anymore. So you can imagine that when his girlfriend recommended having sex over video chat, he had been a bit reluctant.

It had been a simple thing, a little comment that Y/N made when they were lying in bed together. Steve had just visited her at the Tower, and they both had been so sexually deprived that the first thing they did was hop on top of each other. So yes, Y/N gave him a suggestion. Video sex.

Of course, Steve understood that being in a long-distance relationship had gotten Y/N a small bit worked up. And ever since he moved to Washington D.C., he’s felt the same way. Going from having sex about every other night, to having it about once every few weeks was a huge change for the pair.

But video sex? Really?

Steve had been long ago informed of the everlasting life that things have on the internet. Private pictures and videos were always being leaked to the public. How could he and Y/N be sure that their own wouldn’t? He could practically see the news article right in front of him.

‘Captain America? More like Daddy America in this explicit video of Steve Rogers and actress Y/N Y/L/N that has recently been leaked. Sources say that the Captain’s laptop had been secretly connected to S.H.E.I.L.D. files, and it was one of the many agents who released it. Looks like he’ll be saving the world one “Cum for me, baby girl,” at a time.’

Even the thought of something like that happening gave him nervous chills.

Not even to mention, the fact that having sex over technology was childish, juvenile, immature, and whatever other synonyms that you could come up with. It was also completely ridiculous. He was Steve Rogers, Captain America, leader of the Avengers, and yet he was expected to stare into a computer monitor while rubbing his genitals? Ya, right.

But the moment that Y/N had texted him a picture of her in a bra and panties, all of those negative thoughts went straight out the window.

It was during a mission debriefing that Steve’s phone decided to vibrate. He mistakenly opened the chat, only to see the sexiest photo that he’d ever seen in his long, long life. The sight of his girl wearing nothing but a lilac coloured matching set, biting her bottom lip just so, was enough to change his stubborn mind. The caption ‘Missing you, Stevie.’ decided to taunt him for the remaining forty minutes.

So that evening, Steve put all of his many worries and good principles aside, choosing to text his girlfriend that their session would be in order.

‘9:00 P.M.’ He sent her. ‘Don’t be late, young lady.’

And that’s where Steve could be seen right now. Sitting on his bed, overtop of the covers, clad in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxer briefs. His laptop was perched on his thighs, the mouse hovering right on top of the button that would soon call Y/N.

He was hesitant and almost certain that she felt the exact same way. But who could blame them? They’d never done anything like this before.

Though with a deep sigh, Steve took the leap and finally pressed the button.

The line continued to ring for several seconds, and he began to get confused. Was she not picking up on purpose? Did she change her mind? Was all of this too weird for her?

His nervous thoughts were interrupted by the computer making a small ‘whoosh’ noise, and a familiar cheery face popping up on the screen.

“Hey, Stevie!” Y/N beamed.

“There’s my favourite girl.” He smiled, starting to get more relaxed with the comforting sound of her voice. “How are you, doll?”

“I’m alright.” She shrugged, making one of her thin spaghetti straps fall down by accident; a fact that Steve definitely picked up on.

“What are ‘ya wearing, baby?” He asked, the camera angle not allowing him to see any further than her collar bones.

“Oh.” She faked innocence, adjusting the view a little lower. “This?”

The sight in front of Steve made his mouth begin to water. There Y/N sat on their once-shared bed, wearing a little babydoll nightie. The colour was baby blue, with a tiny baby pink bow at the bottom of the v-neck. The silk looked absolutely beautiful against her skin, and the thin material barely managed to contain her breasts. Steve swore that he could see her nipples poking right through it.

“‘Whattaya think?” She spoke, breaking him from his trance.

“I think,” he licked his lips, “that you look good enough to eat.” A predatory gleam started to appear in his eyes, and he gave Y/N a smirk. “Too bad that I’m not there to do so.”

She shook her head, ponytailed hair swinging left to right. “Steve-”

“Steve?” He chided with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Daddy,” Y/N corrected herself, watching his lips quirk up even further. “I miss you.”

“Awe, darling.” He looked at her through the monitor sincerely. “I miss you too.”

“M-Miss your hands,” she continued, “miss your lips.”

Steve sat up straighter on his bed, getting more and more into what she was saying. “Miss my tongue, N/N?”

“Uh huh.” She nodded, having flashbacks to all of the days that he got her off with his mouth and his mouth alone. “I really miss it.”

He could tell how hot and bothered all of this talk was making her. The way Y/N kept squirming around on the bed, the way her lips were slightly parted, letting out heavy breaths. Steve could almost smell her arousal from hundreds of miles away.

“You look so pretty, baby girl.” He told her, watching her cheeks become even redder. Seeing her so flushed under his gaze only made Steve’s confidence grow, all of the nerves from earlier starting to disappear. “Why don’t you take off your little nightie for me? Can you do that for daddy?”

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N smiled before pulling the babydoll over her head, making a show of dropping it to her side.

Steve grinned at the sight of her naked breasts, it having been way too long since he’d last seen them. “So beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” She breathed out in lust, his deep voice going straight to her core. When Y/N suggested doing this many weeks ago, she had no idea that it would turn her on so much.

“You getting wet, sweetheart?” He questioned with a sly grin, seeing her nod once again. “Why don’t you dip your fingers down, then bring them up to show me?”

Y/N gulped at his request. “Okay.” She brought two fingers down into her underwear, rubbing her slit and collecting some of the fluid. She brought it up to the camera and felt proud at the satisfied look on Steve’s face.

“Mmm, baby.” He hummed and bit his lip, wishing that he could just reach through the screen to suck off those juices himself.

“What do I do with it, daddy?” Y/N asked, purposely using the special innocent voice that got him so turned on.

Steve sucked in a breath, trying to decide his course of action for the evening. 

His strategic skills came in handy for more than missions, you know.

“Rub it on your nipples, sweetie.” He told Y/N, seeing her gasp in response.

She followed his instructions and rubbed the sticky substance on her pert breasts, shuddering at her own touch.

“Do you like that, little girl?” The man spoke huskily.

“Yes.” Y/N answered with deep breaths.

Steve was amazed at the effect he still had on her, even being so far away. “Play with your tits, darling.” He instructed.

The girl nodded her head, bringer her hands up to her chest and beginning to knead. Y/N tried to imagine that it was Steve’s much bigger ones doing the job instead, but the fact that her’s were so chilly didn’t help.

Steve himself was getting more and more turned on by the second. Just seeing his girl in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties, rubbing her own breasts and throwing her head back was the best sight in the world to him. Something that his younger self could’ve only dreamed of.

Feeling his dick getting even harder, Steve threw his shirt over his head and tugged off his boxer briefs. He rubbed the thick beads of precum over his erection, beginning to stroke it. His eyes never strayed from the beautiful sight on his laptop screen, imagining that he could be there with her right now.

“D-Daddy, I miss your cock.” Y/N whined as she rolled her nipples between her fingers. “I miss you fucking me.”

“Damn, doll.” Steve groaned at her words. “Take off your panties, N/N.”

She did what he asked with no question and spread her legs even further, giving her boyfriend a nice view of her dripping pussy.

“Fuck yourself, kitten.” He ordered, continuing to rub at his boner. “Daddy wants to see you.”

Kitten. That was new.

Y/N brought down her right hand and began to feel at herself, finding her hole and shoving in a finger. She let out a moan before starting to thrust the digit in and out.

“Just imagine it’s my cock, sweetheart.” Steve told her, hand running up and down his erection even faster.

The girl tried to do what he told her, but knew in the back of her mind that no amount of her fingers could ever measure up to his cock. “I-I ‘wanna cum.” She moaned out, left hand still toying with her left breast. Y/N gave the nipple a pinch every know and then, trying to imitate the way that Steve would. “Daddy, m-make me cum.”

“Fuck, babydoll.” He threw his head back, imagining that it was her pussy around his member instead of his own hand. “Play with your clit, baby.” Steve told her, watching the screen as she did what he asked.

With a couple of small circles around the sensitive bud, Y/N was crying out like a hot mess, cumming all over their nice white sheets.

“Good girl.” Steve cooed, the sight of her creaming herself bringing him even further to the edge.

Y/N, also knowing how close he was to an orgasm, needed to do something about it now. “Cum, daddy.” She breathed out, eyes trained on the sight of him. Captain America was naked and masturbating right in front of her, of course she was going to stare. “I want to see your big cock cum.” She continued, voice getting all whiny and high. “I want to imagine licking it up.”

And with those final words, Steve finally came, the semen being so powerful that a drop even landed on his computer screen. Right where Y/N’s chin was projected.

She giggled. “Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He chuckled along.

The couple laid in their respective rooms and continued to catch their breath. Neither of their eyes separated from their laptops, treating each other as if one was actually present.

“Alright,” Steve spoke out, finally grabbing a tissue to clean up his small mess, “maybe technology isn’t so bad after all.”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

[i-will-be-forever-yours]

Trust Issues

A/N This is my first writing...that has actually been posted so it might be pretty rough. anyway... feedback is welcome! thanks for reading

Warning: Angst, some language...umm idk what else

Summary: Shawn and Y/n have been married for a year and a half and he seems to be drifting. Will trust put this marriage at risk?

Word Count: 1.8k

posted 11-18-19

Don’t know who made this gif but if u did hmu so I can give you credit

Y/n breathed a sigh of relief when she walked into their two-story condo. The paparazzi decided that they would not leave her alone since the news of her marriage to Shawn Mendes, even eighteen months after the fact. For them it was like being a kid in a candy shop.

They had dated for just over two years when she found herself in front of a kneeling Shawn, velvet box in one hand. She was happy, to say the least, and let the tears flow as she nodded, being at a loss for words. However, prior to dating they had been friends since they were both young, and they couldn’t be happier. Their wedding was a romantic day one with only close friends and family. It was a special day, filled with laughter and tears of joy shared between the couple.

However, at just a year and six months of marriage, it was already hard. Of course, the first year was pure bliss, and they were very much newlyweds. However recently Shawn had been more distant and Y/n didn’t like it. For the better part of the last five years, they had been inseparable, but he seems to be drifting. Longer nights at the studio, early morning at the gym. Even when he was home, his mind wasn’t, and a part of Y/n felt like they were falling. She wasn’t sure where they were falling. Whether it be out of love, or falling deeper into confusion, she had no idea, but she knew that something needed to change.

Shawn was getting ready to go on tour again, but that was nothing new. They had been through a couple of his tours while they were friends and even while dating. However, something seemed off with this upcoming one.

Y/n tried to brush off the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach when she thought of her husband, but it just wouldn’t go away. To take her mind off things she decided to scroll through her twitter feed. The first thing to pop up was a picture of her husband and Camila, with the caption saying “Shawn’s new lover?”. She knew not to believe rumors and tabloids and had even grown accustomed to these stories. However, with Shawn’s recent behavior, she wasn’t so sure. Her mind told her to just stop but nevertheless, she clicked on the link that was provided.

She didn’t expect to find a picture of her husband’s face nuzzling into the neck of Camila, while she laughed and smiled. There were a handful of pictures of the two holding hands and laughing. It reminded her of when they first started dating. Young and in love, only having eyes for each other. 

Pain and numbness spread throughout her chest at the thought that her husband no longer loved her. These thoughts were interrupted however by the sudden urge to throw up.

Jumping off the bed, she made a quick dash to the connected bathroom. She emptied the contents of her stomach and sat there on the bathroom floor. Her breathing was ragged and she kept dry heaving into the toilet, while trying to suppress the urge to cry.

She looked like a mess, with her hair in disarray and makeup running down her face from her shed tears. Her brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts, and she felt the sudden desire to sleep for hours. However, she picked herself off the floor to examine herself in the mirror. Wiping off the makeup and putting her hair in a messy bun she decided to get back on her phone. They had plans to go to dinner tonight, so y/n decided to call Shawn.

However, before the second ring, the call was denied. Deciding then to text him, she texted, “Hey honey, are we still on for dinner?” As she waited for his response she decided to check her calendar for her upcoming appointments and plans. While looking through it she realized something was missing. She had not had her period in two months, almost three.

She sat there on her bed in a nervous panic. What if she were pregnant? She hadn’t had sex with Shawn recently due to his busy schedule at that time, but based on the last time they had it would make sense. They were always so careful. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe it was just her body being irregular like it sometimes tended to be. The logical part of her brain denied these excuses though, because that’s what they were, excuses. 

She immediately put on some shoes and a hoodie and drove to the nearest drugstore to pick up some tests. She was lucky to make the trip there and back without anyone snapping any pictures. The downside to having a famous husband was the unwanted pictures, but she loved him, so she made it work.

Once back safely inside the master bathroom, she undid all three tests and took them. She waited the time and when her phone alarm went off she froze. What if she were pregnant and Shawn didn’t love her anymore?

No time to think about that. She had to be positive, maybe this was the jumpstart her marriage needed. Taking a deep breath she grabbed the tests. They all read POSITIVE. She sat there for nearly  five minutes before the waterworks started. Tears were streaming down her face, but there were so many emotions going on. She was ecstatic, scared, and angry. Ecstatic because she already felt so much love for this baby, but also scared to be a mom. However, she was angry at Shawn, angry that he didn’t reply and angry that he wasn’t here to share her joy. 

She moved back to their room and hid the tests in the closet in some old shoes. As she made it back into her room she saw a message from Shawn saying, “sorry love, can I cancel tonight? I’m just really busy here at the studio.”

She let out a sigh because she was hoping to talk to Shawn over dinner. It seems she’ll just be eating alone again as she has for the past couple weeks.

Y/n is lying in bed when she hears the slam of the door. Looking at the clock she read that it’s midnight. She waits until she hears the heavy footsteps of her husband before she decides to get up. However just as she’s about to she hears his hushed voice saying “No i don’t know how i will tell her. Well, she will just have to deal with it. I know, it’s just that she is so fucking clingy sometimes, always calling or asking to go to dinner or do this and that.” ... “yeah i will, okay goodnight.”

She decides to pretend to be asleep when he walks in. Usually Shawn takes care not to make noise, but tonight he is taking no care to be quiet. She can hear him move about the room until he finally goes into the connected bathroom to shower. Not until the water turns on does she let out her emotions. Tears yet again stream down her face as she thinks about what her husband was saying about her. In her misery, she doesn’t even hear the water turn off nor does she hear as Shawn comes back into the room until she hears his soft voice.

“Y/n, what’s wrong love? Why are you crying?” he asks while reaching out for her.

She turns around to see the concerned eyes of her husband. She almost gives in until she remembers the pictures and his earlier conversation. Instead she looks away and answers “I am fine Shawn, just go to bed.”

“No, tell me what’s the matter! Why are you crying y/n?”

She looks up at him and bluntly asks, “Do you still love me?”

He is a little taken back by her question but is quick to reassure her. “Of course I do, why are you asking?”

She has to scoff at this. “What do you expect me to believe when I see pictures of you and Camila laughing and looking in love? And that conversation earlier? hmm...I think your exact words were she’s so fucking clingy!” she spit out at him.

His confusion quickly slips into anger. “What do you mean “looking in love”? I kissed her cheek, y/n! That’s is! You should know how close we are by now and yes I said you were clingy because sometimes I just need some alone time...ever think about that huh! I thought relationships were supposed to be built on trust. I guess you don’t trust me. Is that what I’m hearing?” He yells.

Y/n is now backed up to the headboard is fear and shock. Not once in their years together has he blown up on her like this. Her hands immediately reach for her stomach, even though she isn’t showing. It is almost a comfort, even just finding out. A way to protect the unborn being that rest within her, relying on her to keep them safe.

“I don’t know what to believe! You don’t talk to me anymore! I love you, Shawn, please just talk to me.” She sobs in a defeated voice.

However, his anger just seems to build. “I need to get away from you sometimes! You never give me a break, and you always want to talk or cuddle or whatever shit it is.”

She is crying now and just wants this nightmare to be over. However, it has reached its climax. “Get the fuck out of my face y/n. I cannot handle this anymore. Just go stay somewhere else.”

In a state of shock, she sits there. Until she makes eye contact with Shawn and that’s when she knows he means it. She rushes out the door with her car keys in hand. Once she is driving away she finally breaks once again. With a hand on her still flat stomach, she drives. She has nowhere to go because all her family and friends are in the states. They had moved to Canada to be close to his side of the family and his hometown.

However, being distracted while driving is not good. Especially when she’s been on the road for over an hour and emotionally exhausted. She looks down to see a message from Shawn saying “sorry love, please come back home...we can talk when you get back” As she is reading this she doesn’t see the car that ran a red light and barrels into her car, causing her car to roll multiple times before coming to a halt when it came into contact it a pole..

All she can hear is the sound of her phone ringing with the picture of Shawn filling her screen. She soon hears sirens before she slips into the comfort of darkness that is pulling her deeper into the abyss.

[polygamyff]

60.

I have woke up to my mobile being so alive, I am so shook. The amount of drama has drained my battery, well I am shook because I am verified. Leon was straight screaming in my messages about it, I mean who would have thought being with a billionaire alone makes you verified, but I am excited as shit. In celebration of my verification I thought I would post a little throwback of Maurice and I when we went to Bey’ home, it’s also Thursday so it’s throwback Thursday. I mean it wasn’t a real old picture but still, I mean I just want to add to the fact I am verified. This picture Bey took of us when we were discussing the clubs, I look like I am listening but honestly I do not know what they are saying, Jay is looking at me talking and I am just staring into thin air. Adding a caption to the picture ‘Photo by @Beyonce: The Carters x The Davenports’ I mean it’s simple and cute and I am flexing, I giggled to myself “you creating all that noise man” Maurice complained at the side of me “please, let me have fun. I am verified! Aye!!” I shouted, Maurice huffed out turning in the bed, I have officially woke him up “I told you Rich would be on it, and look at that” Rich didn’t lie to me, looking over Maurice stretching out “how is the gym coming along?” his skinny ass is something else “why do I need the gym? I am not fat” I snorted laughing “you’re not fat but what about bulking up a little bit?” Maurice frowned at me “that is rude, so you don’t love me for who I am?” Maurice turned his face to me, I grinned at him “I love you; I am joking. I just love to you annoy you, you are literally my dream man. I don’t like those big bulky men anyways, but please celebrate with me, I am verified” Maurice rolled his eyes as he turned onto his side and hugged onto my torso “move your arm up” Maurice said, moving my arm up so he can rest his head on my chest “on my boob though” I spat, resting my arm on his head.

Bey’ fans are crazy and have taken over my Instagram comments “are you ready for today, meeting my dad at Sacramento, I got a jet for us. I said a jet because my sister is still using mine” moving my phone a little away from my face just seeing Maurice rubbing my stomach “my stomach that big? It ain’t that big just yet” he is cute “nah, just you know. Letting Jell-O know I am here” he is stupid “to be honest I am not looking forward to seeing your dad but I am going to have to do this run through but knowing your dad we will like the venue, he likes luxury so it will be just that. I just find it weird how your dad can switch off his feelings and act like he didn’t do what he did and is acting like everything is ok, but I am not tripping. I am going to do this because this bitch needs to get married, I am sick of just fucking around now. This is our time” Maurice has yet to tell his dad who we don’t want there, pressing a kiss to the side of his head “yeah, just you know dad be driving me crazy, he is going to start talking about the family name and I really don’t care about it. I think he will listen to you, it’s like he respects you. He hates my ass I guess; I think he knows that you will take Reign away from him. He kept texting saying about Reign, I am like don’t worry she is coming. I am just nervous, about us getting married. Not in a bad way just like wedding nerves. I want it to be so perfect for us, and also experience marriage properly for the first time” I cooed out “you going to cry when you see me in my dress?” I grinned “I will cry seeing you and Reign, damn. I will be crying that I have to deal with your bougie ass, you bougie but be fronting” I laughed out “lying ass” I mean he isn’t lying but I like to think I am not that at all, I think I am not spoilt.

Leon shrieked out “he is my verified bitch, come here!!” Leon ran at me “I am stank right now” I said but Leon hugged me anyways “girl, seeing you at the event. I was feeling it so much, the dress, the look, the poses. Jacob and I was straight vibing seeing you on CNN too” Leon is such a sweetheart “I always said you was destined to be big” hearing Reign yelp out “sorry baby, I am coming” Leon ran around the couch “what y’all got going on there?” peaking over “we playing dolls, I don’t know what is even happening anymore” I chuckled, “morning mommy” walking into the kitchen “morning Robbie” kissing her cheek “you preparing for a feast?” I asked laughing “well we are going on a trip Robbie, I need to be prepared” my mom is here packing “we are coming back, by tonight we will be back” I chuckled “you never know, so Thomas called” letting out an oh “he said that a lawyer has contacted him about this home” I smirked “he said he doesn’t want things to be so bitter but if you want to play that game we can” pulling a face “you know what, he wants war I will give it him. He is jealous and spiteful, mom don’t worry. He got a lot coming to him-” I stopped midway as the conversation got interrupted “he will be also getting a cease and desist; he is trying to put a story out about me hitting him. Robyn, can you make me food” Maurice came out of nowhere “he is!?” I spat “yes, it’s nothing. Lorraine is dealing with it but make me something. I am hungry” nodding my head, Maurice made his way to the dining table with his Macbook in hand.

Watching Maurice talking to Shawn, he is busy working. I can tell he is on work mode “if you not going to help then girl, get out of the kitchen” my mom nudged me to move, I chuckled “calm down woman” I huffed out “I am just trying to hear what he saying to Shawn” I said in a whisper, let me just stop being a creep and just sit next to him, he won’t mind. Making my way to the dining table, peaking over at Leon and Reign before I did, they are just fine together. Pulling the chair out and sitting down, I wonder what they saying to be honest “yeah well I am busy you know, I really want to punch your face; you got my sister pregnant and you here running around making my sister a single mother? That is not cool, you need to fix yourself, no joke player. I am angry with you but then I know how long we been down, you just so fucked in the mind bro. I just don’t see how we can be cool again, you were supposed to be my best man, now I ain’t even got that. I honestly don’t see how we can just be cool together, how? Look you getting me very aggy, I just need time, and that means you won’t be making the cut for my wedding, let your parents know” he disconnected the call “that is not good” I said to Maurice “you right, it isn’t but I can’t just let him come. Same with Leon” I shushed him “Maurice, can you please not do this. He is my friend” Maurice got up from the chair “where are you going now” Maurice is on something today “I don’t want you to argue, seriously” I don’t want this.

I am cutting niggas left, right and center, I am not fucking with anyone that don’t know how to fuck with me, I am done with the shits. Seeing Mi Amor playing, she is building something with her blocks “girl, that is going to fall” Leon said, Reign held out the block to him “ok, one more” Leon took the block and placed it above, Reign clapped her hands before pushing it all again “girl you bugging, you just enjoy the mess and drama of it falling” clearing my throat, Reign looked at me but Leon didn’t “your daddy is there ain’t he, he is staring at me too” Leon said to Reign, she don’t care one bit she is picking up those blocks again “Maurice, can we be nice” Robyn said “I will respect your mom’ home, but I need to let him know how I don’t fuck with what happened” sitting down on the couch “I did want to speak to you Maurice, I did. I am just you know, a little scared to say anything” Leon got up from the floor “because you know you did wrong, you openly told Robyn you wanted to get at me. What kind of friend is that!?” I spat “a friend to her because you upset Robyn! Robz is my friend, I didn’t mean for that to happen, I would never do that to her. We have been out before, have I ever left you like that!? We were all lit, even before you came around we went out” Leon pointed at Robyn “we did go out, Leon knows how I felt” Robyn said “well know he can know how I feel, I helped you. Those fucking Gucci shit you wearing is because of me, I helped you and you did that to me. I liked you but you just seem like another nigga I can’t fuck with but for Robyn I have too, I don’t even want to see your face. You have really got me angry as shit” Robyn sat next to Leon “I am sorry Maurice, I know you don’t like me. Even when all this shit happened I have never let out a secret about any of you, I have never done you dirty like that at all. I knew my friendship was a mess with Robyn, I didn’t know what to say to her. But I never did any of you wrong by selling stories like everyone else did you, I don’t have much people in my life. Terry is a mother to me, I don’t have much and I will forever be in debt to you and appreciate what you did for me Maurice, I was in a bad way and you helped” Leon’ voice broke “I feel bad and I don’t think you will ever see how bad I feel because you made your mind up about it but I am sorry. It went wrong and it was never that” Reign is stumped right now; she is staring at Leon crying “he made that mistake Maurice” Robyn said.

“Your breakfast is done Maurice” Terry said, getting up from the couch because I can’t be bothered to be hearing the water works, I just don’t fuck with that shit. He fucked with the woman I love, she is just too damn friendly I guess “thank you for this Terry, you be going all out” I chuckled “aww thank you, and I just moved your laptop to the side a little. I hope you don’t mind” waving her off “it’s all good” sitting in the chair “Maurice I am sorry, maybe we won’t be thee same but I am sorry and I do care about you all so much” shuffling my chair in, he is not going to leave it and he’s really not going to leave my life either “shit will take time, that is all I am going to say” shaking my head “that is something Leon, he is hard headed so things take time with him” Robyn said “ok psychic, you know me so well huh” let me just eat my breakfast “I do actually, let’s leave him to eat. Don’t choke now” smiling at Robyn sarcastically “you kids!” Terry sighed out saying.

Staring at my laptop “man” I sighed out saying, it’s like I am applying pressure about this whole Hilton shit that now it’s turned on me, I feel like I have too much on my schedule. Typing out to Ally to skype me, something has to move around. Sitting back on the chair, because this is all new to me because I have added other shit, people want to do business with me which is amazing but one at a time, the skype call came through. Answering the call “ah, we are doing video call now. Oh wait, it’s a team thing. I think I have had enough of you all. Who got biggie on loud? I don’t pay you to have fun now” I laughed, Lorraine eyeballed the camera “listen here, I am in my own damn home! You don’t own my home” she pointed “she was twerking earlier, let’s not start her off” pulling a face “ok, I won’t be a moment, y’all can do whatever y’all like after. I see the schedule and everything, there is a lot of shit on there. So, the whole Hilton thing is yes my idea but what the fuck? Am I touring or some shit?” I am confused “you ain’t touring anything, Maurice. You are the owner of the company now, you have to meet everyone, you need to see your workers. You need to visit. I am sorry but if you want to be not involved with that then you going to look bad, I don’t mean visit every hotel in the world, just the busiest ones in the world, you do a little meeting with them, get to know them, show them you care. I mean the only way around this is split it between you and Nalah” rubbing my chin now even sure “I just don’t think will be able to do every place you telling me, I have a pregnant partner here. I think what I can do, Malik. I will have him with me, teach him. That is an option, also I see London is the place where I make the official announcement for the international takeover for Hilton, that is a day after I will be back in New York. Make it three days out from that because I have something else to do” I have that scan with Robyn “noted, we were just preparing ourselves having to put up with you” Ally said “oh wow, you all are funny. Anyways, I am going to see the wedding. See you all there” disconnecting the skype call, I am actually very busy when it comes to this takeover so I will need Malik to be on his game.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

CTRL+ALT+DECEIT

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, fucking, stalking, hacking, threats, implied violence.

This is dark!Jake Jensen x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find your pictures on someone else’s Insta but that’s not the only thing he’s stolen.

Note: Yay, another Jensen fic at last. I’m probably gonna try to work in more one shots between my series. I’m looking at Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, or Lee Bodecker right now for next week but we’ll see.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The chirp of the chat pierced your eardrum once more as you ignored it for the spreadsheet of dates on your other monitor. Working from home could be both peaceful and distracting but the third bing had you muting and pushing your headset to your neck with a grumble. You switched windows as the chat box blinked.

‘So why didn’t u tell me u had a bf?’ Zia’s bubble blipped up followed by impatient emojis.

“Wat r u talking bout?’ you typed back and clicked back to the spreadsheet to update the status of each course. That noise came again and you flipped back.

‘I’m not stupid! Come on. He’s far away but he’s cute.’

You frowned and tapped the space bar lightly. You were utterly confused. The only activity in your daily life were the general notifications from Tindr. You repeated the question and she sent an emoji rolling its eyes.

‘I’m serious.’ you replied.

She sent a link and then a laughing GIF attached to another bubbled response, ‘I’m not buyin it.’

You clicked on the hyperlink and a new tab opened. You scrolled down on the Insta as the air was knocked out of you at the sight of your own face. Not only were their pics taken from your public profile but several you’d never even posted. Your skin crawled and the bing sounded again.

‘So… an online thing huh.’ Zia pressed on.

‘I gotta work.’ you closed out of the window entirely but stayed on the Insta.

You scrolled through about a dozen or so selfies of you, each labeled as ‘missing my lady’ or ‘she’s so sweet, sending me pics to keep me company’. Your stomached roiled with mortification and the unsettling sensation of intrusion. It was easy enough to guess you’d been hacked but to think this was what the creep did with it was even more startling.

You changed the password on your Insta and went through the process of doing so with all of your accounts and ran a scan on your PC. You would likely have to file a ticket for a proper inspection with a specialist. You couldn’t help but shake as you went back to the profile after checking your bank account and PayPal to make sure it wasn’t worse than just pics.

You went back to the profile and found photos of the culprit. His spiky blond hair and glasses were unsurprising and his comic book tee shirt was even less. Your disgust was quickly replaced with anger as you hit the chat icon above his info.

‘Hey, jackass, care to tell me how you have my photos on your profile?!’

The read icon appeared almost and you saw him typing. It stopped and then started again.

‘You’re so beautiful, I wanted to share it with everyone.’

You scoffed at the message and cringed at the screen. ‘Are you nuts? Like actually. You stole my photos! You hacked me. Creep.’

You blocked him immediately after hitting send and logged out. You opened Excel again and tried to focus on the coloured cells. You could hardly process what you were doing as your phone began to vibe on the corner of your desk. It didn’t let up and you couldn’t focus past the incessant buzzing.

You snatched it up and several messages covered the screen as you unlocked it. ‘You really think that’s gonna work’; ‘You can’t block me’... several in a similar vein that you deleted before blocking the number. You silenced your phone and turned back to your monitor.

Suddenly the screen went black and you blinked. You hit the keyboard and clicked, assuming it fell asleep. It lit up again but all you saw was yourself staring back. Your mouth fell open and you ripped the clip-on cam from atop your monitor. You disconnected it as the notepad opened and typing flicked up across the white space.

‘I didn’t want it to be like this.’

You could move the mouse or backspace. All control was lost and you sat there helplessly watching the scrawl.

‘I think we’d be really good together if you only gave me a chance. Can’t you see I worship you?’

Your phone began to shake constantly and a private number flashed. You picked it up and hollered into the speaker, “leave me alone”. You hung up but it kept on and your screen turned to black once more. Your PC was still on but there was no reaction from the machine.

Fuck, you sat back and looked at your phone. You couldn’t even call work to tell them because the damn thing wouldn’t stop ringing. You put your head in your hands and grunted in frustration. How the fuck did all this happen?

🖱️

After your initial panic died down, you disconnected your tower and shut off your phone. You left your cell behind as it was just as useless. You hauled the PC down to IT at your work and filled out the ticket without giving intricate details on everything the weirdo had taken.

You left with a borrowed laptop. You wouldn’t sign into your personal accounts and stick to the company portal. You were embarrassed but happy to have a temporary solution. You got home and set up the new computer and reconfigured your wi-fi. You finished the last of the day’s work and ended the day with a glass of wine.

When you dared to turn your phone on again the next morning, it was filled with notifications from all platforms but each one you clicked on errored and prompted you to sign-in. All your new passwords were wrong and you knew it was him. 

You checked the Insta and found a screenshot on his profile from the day before, your mouth agape in horror that could easily mistaken for surprise.

‘Her face when you pop the question on the call’. The caption made your stomach curdle and you nearly flung the phone away. You couldn’t comment without logging in or message. So you created a shell account with a throwaway email you used on Reddit.

‘Why won’t you stop?’ you sent the message through as you waited for your coffee to brew.

‘Stop what?’ he added a winky face with his reply and you growled.

‘You know who this is! Why are you doing this?’

‘Hmmm…’ he let the message hang there and you sat down with your mug and listened to the birds outside. ‘Imagine what someone else would do with everything I have.’

‘Look at what you’re doing. You’re ruining my life.’

‘Ruining? Sweetie, I’m watching over you. Protecting you.’

Your nostrils flared and you burnt your tongue on the coffee and planted it on the table so it sloshed over the sides.

‘Love you, sweetie. See ya soon.’

The chat box turned grey as you realised he blocked you. That pissed you off more than anything and you lobbed your phone away with a shout of anguish. This guy was fucked!  

You were shaking so much you couldn’t even drink your coffee. You got up and paced until you could think straight. You dialed into work and told them you were taking the day off for a personal emergency and shut down your phone. You were too afraid he would find a way onto your work laptop and you didn’t want to have to explain that to IT too.

🖱️

Zia showed up on Saturday and she wasn’t happy. She buzzed up and banged on your door impatiently. You let her in and she crossed her arms over the strap of her purse as she crooked her hip.

“I know I shouldn’t have snooped but if you’re mad at me, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve backed off,” she scowled.

“I’m not mad,” you said as you backed into the front room and dragged your feet over the rug.

“Sure, you’re just ignoring all my messages by accident,” she stayed at the other side of the room.

“Not exactly, no,” you shrugged, “it’s a long story.”

“And you couldn’t shoot me a message to say that at least?”

“Look, I’m stressed the fuck out. I’m sorry but the only reason I didn’t answer you is because I can’t.” 

“You can’t?”

“I can’t even turn my phone on anymore.”

“What--”

“Just--” you touched your temples, “I don’t even know how to explain--”

“Jesus, are you okay?” her anger slaked away as her voice softened.

“No, I’m not,” you sniffed, “I’ve been trapped in this apartment and I can’t think straight and I can’t even talk to anyone because my phone and my life is totally fucked.”

“How about we get a coffee and you can tell me once you’ve calmed down,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worked up.”

“You don’t know how bad it is. I really fucked up,” you whined, “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“Is this about the boyfriend?”

You huffed and shook your head, “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend-- Let me get dressed.”

After you felt presentable enough to leave the apartment, the thought of getting away ushered you down the winding stairwell and onto the sidewalk. You and Zia walked down to the cafe on the corner where you always overspent on their specialty drink and caught up.

You ordered but when you tried to use your card, the machine beeped in rejection. You tried again but still no luck. Zia offered to pay and you promised you’d pay her back. Anxiety pitted deep in your stomach as you sat. You’d have to call the bank and figure out why eight dollars would bounce.

“So,” Zia said as she shaded her eyes against the sunlight streaming onto the open patio, “he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I don’t even know the dude,” you hissed as you almost overturned your cup, “Zee, those pictures, they were all on my phone. I never sent them to anyone. I don’t even know his real name and when I confronted him, he crashed my whole system and blew up my phone. I haven’t been able to log into anything because of him.”

“You’re shitting me,” she chuckled.

“Zee, I’m not fucking kidding,” you blinked, “don’t you think if I was dating some dude out in who knows where, you’d be the first to know? You think I’m wasting my time with the idiots on Tindr for fun?”

“No way,” she scoffed.

“Zia, look me in the eye,” you said as you gave her a stern look, “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Did you call the police?” she asked.

You sat back and closed your eyes. You were so swept up in the panic, you hadn’t even thought. You could report it to the police, just get a record of it even if they didn’t do anything else. You heard horror stories of hackers and how little could be done but you had to at least try.

“I guess I should go down to the station today,” you ran your fingertips along your chin, “I don’t know, I felt so alone, I thought--”

“And call your bank right now,” she slid her phone over, “figure out what’s going on with your accounts.”

You took her cell and dialed the number on the back of the card. You dragged your finger down the side of your cup as you listened to the automated message and hit the buttons to direct you to customer service. The hold song bubbled in your head and finally picked up as you finished the last of your mocha.

You explained the issue after giving your information as Zia sat patiently across from you. She watched the other patrons and looked out across the street as you waited on the representative on the other end.

“Looks like your account has been locked. Your savings and checking have been placed on hold citing possible fraud,” the woman explained.

“Well, can’t you unlock them? Why would they be flagged?”

“Hmm, well I see no suspicious spending so possibly… it could be due to an external lock, not us.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t speak to that. Have you received any communications from the Revenue service?”

“Revenue service? I don’t--no,” you gulped.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can tell you,” she said, “you should consider contacting federal services.”

You hung up and handed Zia her phone back. “Apparently, I’m under investigation for fraud? I don’t know.”

“Shit,” she took her cell, “are you sure?”

“It sounded like it but-- I gotta check my credit card,” you stood and grabbed your empty cup and your purse.

You stormed down the street to the ATM at the corner and inserted your card. LOCKED the machine made a hideous noise and you pulled out your card in irritation. You put your wallet and touched the sides of your neck as the heat swelled through you.

“I don’t understand--”

“Um, you should see this,” Zia said.

Zia turned her screen towards you and your heart dropped to your toes. There was a picture softened by a blush Insta filter and the caption read, ‘just got into town, surprising bae with flowers’. Over the cluster of petals at the bottom of the image were you and Zia sitting at the cafe patio.

You spun and searched around for any sign of the man and the bouquet. You could hardly breath as it felt like you were being squished between invisible walls. You clapped your hand against the wall and steadied yourself as Zia gently rubbed your arm.

“Let’s go to the station,” you croaked as tears welled in your eyes, “please.”

🖱️

The police told you everything you expected. Even as you showed them the photos and explained how you never met that man in your life, they only offered you words on a piece of paper. They’d file the report and follow-up in case of any further escalation. It was a non-answer, a cold shrug.

Zia went home with you as she offered to stay the night. You gladly accepted and the two of you cozied up on your bed and spent the night watching early 00s rom coms. You found it hard to relax even with her there. You couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been without you even knowing.

You at last began to doze off as Reese Witherspoon triumphed and exhausted by the endless maelstrom of dread, you slipped into a deep but perilous sleep. You were locked in limbo between waking and slumber, almost as if you could hear everything around you but remained blind and unknowing all the same.

You woke with a start as you felt like you were falling. You sat up and reached to the other side of the bed. Zia was gone. She must have got up to get water or use the bathroom. You took a breath and turned your legs over the edge. You got up groggily and lumbered across the room, your mouth dry and head aching. Some tylenol and water would do you well.

You hesitated as you noticed the bloom of light just around the corner from your doorway. Zia must be having trouble sleeping, you guessed as you kept on. As you came in sight of the front room, you heard a whimper and you backed up against the wall as tall figure stood before the coffee table. The flowers laid across the wood, slightly crumpled from a struggle.

As Zia whined, he jabbed her with his foot and she grunted around the rag tied around her mouth. Her arms and legs were bound behind her as the man loomed over her. You recognized his blond hair and glasses, the menacing blue eyes as he raised his chin and crossed his arms.

“Been waiting on you,” he stepped over her, “I was disappointed when I realised it was her. Good friend though, hanging around…”

“Don’t hurt her, please. What do you want?”

“You can’t figure that out?” he taunted, “huh, I’m sure you can guess what it will take for me to leave her in one piece.”

Zia wiggled and received another boot. You pushed yourself forward and he stepped closer, predatory as he dropped his arms and clenched then unclenched his fists. He chuckled as you stopped short and gaped up at him.

“She’s cute,” he said, “she can join us if that makes it easier for you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snarled and winced as he reached out to touch your cheek. You fought not to shove him away, your eyes on Zia’s bound figure.

“Play nice and I will,” he warned, “every time I hurt her, that’s on you. I wish I didn’t have to do this to show you how much I love you.”

You shook your head as your lip trembled. He pressed his palms to your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips. He leaned in and you cowered as you realised how big he was. You didn’t expect that looking at him from the other side of a screen.

“Do we put on a show for her or did you want a little privacy?”

“You won’t get away with this,” you hissed.

“Oh yeah? I locked you out of your social media, your pc, your bank… do you really want to see how far I can take this?”

He smothered your murmured answer with his mouth and kissed you gruffly. He pulled away and looked you in the eye. He bit his lip and hummed.

“So, do we do this here?”

“You’re sick,” you grabbed his hand and wrenched it away from your face. You yanked him and directed him to the bedroom, “you monster.”

“Now come on,” he twisted his wrist around and grabbed your elbow, “I could’ve killed her. Don’t think I won’t.”

You quivered as he forced you back into your bedroom, the street lights casting shadows between your curtains. He flung you ahead of him, as strong as his thick arms would suggest. You stumbled and caught yourself on the side of the bed. You turned as the door slammed and he prowled towards you like a wild cat.

“Well,” he threw his hands up and you caught a glint of light against the lens of his glasses, “you want me to undress you or you think you can handle that, sweetie?”

You puffed in repulsion and looked away from him. Even in the dark, you could feel his eyes on you. You jittered as you reached to the neck of your loose tee and slowly raised it over your head. You dropped it to crumple on the floor and you touched the top of your shorts. You heard him moving around and shied away as he flipped the switch and light shone across the room.

You pushed down your shorts as you heard a thump from the next room. His jaw twitched as his eyes lingered on you and he reluctantly glanced away. He swung the door open and stormed out into the front room. You went to the door and heard his snarl.

“Stop fucking moving,” he rasped, “every time I have to tell you, I’ll pop another out.”

Zia gave a muffled sob as you heard a sickly crack and you hurried to look around the wall into the room. He blocked your sight with his broad chest and pointed you back to the room.

“I didn’t say you could leave the room,” he spun you and slapped your bare ass, “fast, fast, fast… before I lose my patience.”

Your skin stung from the strike and you tripped through the doorway as he followed quickly. Another slam and he poked you further into the room with his knuckle. You stepped away from him and tried to cover yourself as you faced him in horror.

He quickly swooped his shirt over his head and revealed a buff chest thick with blond hair. He kicked off his shoes and fumbled to undo his fly. He tilted his head as he looked you over and groped himself through his jeans.

“You know what to do,” he said, “I’ve seen the way you touch yourself… cyber security 101, cover your webcam.”

You shuddered as he beckoned you closer. He stopped you and put your hands on the waist of his jeans. He leaned in and nuzzled your temple as his hot breath seeped into your goosebumped skin.

“My turn,” he pushed on your hands until you pulled down the denim on your own strength.

He stepped out of his jeans and snapped the elastic of his boxers. You stood and latched onto those shakily. He ran his fingers along your arms as you pulled them past his erection and they fell to the floor with a whisper. You didn’t look down, instead staring past him as his hand swept up to cup your tits.

His fingers crawled up your chest and his hands wrapped around your neck. He squeezed and turned you so that your back was to the bed. He marched you backwards as you felt his dick bobbing between your bodies. You gasped as he pushed you down onto your mattress, your legs dangling over the edge as he came up to straddle you.

“Such a good girl,” he taunted, “look at you… I bet you’re wet already.”

He pulled a hand away and stroked his length as he raised himself on his knees. He clung to your neck as he leaned over you and planted his hand on the bed above you. He hovered his dick over your head and you closed your eyes.

“Put it in your mouth,” he ordered, “now, or I’m putting it in your ass.”

You reached up blindly and angled his tip against your lips. He dipped his hips down and you choked as he prodded at your throat. Your legs twitched as he forced his cock past your gag reflex and your whole body tensed at the intrusion.

He balanced on the hand above your head and the one on your neck. He thrust harder and harder as sloppy sucking reverberated around the room between his dark groans.

“That’s it,” he purred, “look at you taking my cock. I can only imagine how tight that cunt of yours is.”

Your eyes welled and you flicked your lashes as you tried to bat them away. You kept your hand at the base of his dick as you tried to ease his motion. He ignored your reluctance and only delved deeper as he brought himself to his limit, your lips touching the fuzz along his pelvis.

When you couldn’t breath, you slapped his hard stomach and he reared out of you abruptly. You coughed up spit as he sat back on his heels and released you. He huffed as he looked down at his glistening dick and climbed off of you.

“Stand up, turn around,” he snarled as his eyes flashed. 

His glasses were low on his nose and he slipped them off entirely and folded them up on your night table. He squinted as he watched you stand and turn stiffly. He smacked his hand in the middle of your back and pushed you over impatiently. He stepped closer and tapped his tip against your cunt as you were exposed to him.

He bent his legs and poked along your slick folds. You were wet enough for him to glide in and fill you up completely. He was so big it was painful and you arched your back as you tried to take it. He pulled back and slammed into you harshly. You let out a garble and he repeated the motion, taking you off your feet.

He leaned over you and grabbed your knees, lifting them on the bed as he urged you forward. His hand brushed up over your ass and he pressed between your shoulder blades until your face was flush to the mattress, your arms bent around you like a broken doll.

He thrust again and the loud slap made you wince. He jerked his hips roughly until he found his motion, rutting into you with hissy breaths as his other hand groped your ass. He hummed as your body shook before him, ruled by his touch as your walls clenched him.

He pushed his thumb down between your cheeks and circled your asshole. You strained and lifted your head in alarm. His other hand quickly stretched over your crown and pinned your face to the bed. He felt along your cunt and slickened his thumb before trailing back to your puckered ring.

He pushed lightly at first and as he broke through you gasped and whined. You gripped the blankets as he moved his thumb in and out of you, his hips still rocking steadily into you. He slid his thumb out entirely and prodded with two fingers instead. Before you could react, he forced them inside and you cried out in surprise and pain.

“I know you want it, sweetheart,” he groaned, “I can feel…” he kept fucking you, “I can fucking hear it.”

Your holes tightened around you as he carried the pace. A new pressure began to bloom inside of you, unlike anything you’d felt before. The burning in your ass and the stretching of your cunt mingled to an agonized bliss. You sobbed into the blankets as you came uncontrollably around him, shamed by the unwanted release.

“Fuck,” he drew out the word as both his hand and his hips sped up, “look at you cumming for me. Cumming for this creep.”

You moaned and curled your fingers around the duvet tighter. You felt the same knotting deep inside and you came again as he reached a tantamount. This time, you gushed around his cock and felt the deluge down your thighs as the noise grew wetter and louder.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you can’t handle it, can you?” He snorted as he sucked in a breath suddenly and his hips staggered.

He pushed his fingers deeper and kept them there as he fucked you as hard as he could. He slammed into your cunt over and over. Your hips throbbed with each tilt of his pelvis and you smothered your cries as you felt him coat your walls in his release. 

He stopped just as suddenly and dragged his fingers out of your ass. He leaned against you until your legs collapsed and fell onto you with a sigh. He covered your body with his as his shallow breaths hazed around you. 

Your own heart raced as you stretched your arms out stiffly and quivered. You tried to pull yourself from beneath him. He kept you pinned under his weight and jolted you with a cruel thrust.

“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” he muttered along the shell of your ear, “not even close.”

[jebentnietalleen]

*slams fist on the desk* i need a #1 or #30, please

Sixteen days. It doesn’t sound as a very long time, but it’s the longest they’ve been apart from each other even since they started dating. The worst part is, he has to wait 5 more days before he can see Eliott again. He’s on a well-deserved vacation to Italy with his parents, and Lucas want him to enjoy it to the fullest. He’s trying not to sound too desperate whenever he texts him, when they call or when they FaceTime each other.

But it’s hard, because he misses Eliott so, so much. It’s hardly a surprise that they would miss each other, lord knows how much time they’ve spent together the past few months. That still didn’t prepare him for this. For the way in which every little thing reminds him of Eliott, makes him miss him more and more every day, every hour, every minute.

There are days that are filled with laughing with friends, jumping into the pool, eating ice cream, going to the movies. On these days he still misses Eliott, like a voice in the back of his mind that says this is so much fun, I wish he was here, on repeat.

But it’s the quiet days that get to him the most. Days in which he has no plans, where everybody else has got something to do and he is by himself. That’s when it really hit him.

It gives him a lot of time to think, too. About their relationship, about who Eliott is as a person and how much he admires him and learns from him every day. He thinks about himself as well. About how far he has come and the differences between who he is now and who he was a year ago, or even 6 months ago. He wouldn’t go back and change anything for the world.

~ ~ ~

Clubbing has never really been his thing. It’s crowded and he gets sweaty and people always keep bumping into him. This time, it’s no different. He can hardly hear his friends over the noise of the music and not to sound like a broken record but goddamn it he misses Eliott. He misses feeling his boyfriend dance behind him. He misses being able to throw his arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He misses getting just drunk enough to feel a little more bold than usual, flirting and anticipating what comes after they leave.

Eliott texted him earlier that night, wishing him a good time and asking for a selfie. He took a quick picture of himself in the mirror. Truth be told, he was quite contend with his outfit: black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with a heart on it. He couldn’t resist pulling a face when he took the picture, knowing that it would probably make Eliott smile.

He sent the picture and threw his phone on his bed while he fixed his hair, forgetting all about it when Bas charged into his room and told him to hurry up.

Which is why he finds himself leaning against the bar, digging up his phone when the memory comes back to him. Maybe Eliott texted him back.

And he did: how do you manage to look more beautiful every day? i miss you like crazy lucas.He can’t resist the fond smile that takes over his face. miss you more, wish you were here xxxxSo maybe he’s a sap, and what about it?

He dances some more, laughing when Yann pokes him in the sides and takes his hand to twirl him around. Arthur says he is surprised nobody has hit on Lucas yet tonight, and Basile snorts and says he gets why: He keeps looking at his phone like a lovesick puppy. Anybody who looks at Lucas knows it’s no use to even try.Maybe it’s weird that he feels a surge of warmth at that, feeling proud. But maybe he doesn’t care.

Lucas feels his phone buzz, it’s Eliott, sending him a selfie back, looking miserable in bed with the caption: can’t sleep. call me when you’re home?

The boys are only slightly mad when he tells them he is leaving around 2:30 in the morning. Yann pulls in him for a hug and Lucas shoots them all an apologetic smile before he walks back to the coloc. He texts back a quick message: I’ll be home in 15 minutes and gets a smiley and heart emoji in return.

~ ~ ~

The phone rings three times before Eliott picks up.

‘Hi, not-so-sleepyhead. How are you doing?’ ‘Hi yourself, not-such-a-party animal. I’m okay, I guess. It’s just very hot here and I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep.’ There’s a quietness to his voice, it could be the fact that it’s late and he’s tired, but Lucas thinks there might be more to it.‘Anyway, enough about me. How are you? Why are you home so early?’ Lucas scoffs, turning around in bed and rearranging himself until he is lying on his left side, head propped up his arm, looking at his alarm. ‘It’s not early! It’s nearly 3. Besides, I wasn’t really feeling it anyway.’He hears some rustling on the other side of the phone and pictures his boyfriend, who is trying to get more comfortable. ‘Why not?’ The question sounds a bit teasing, like Eliott knows deep down that the reason he wasn’t feeling it is because he wasn’t there. Lucas isn’t going to stroke his ego that easily.‘Oh, you know, just some random guys that kept trying to dance with me and wanted my phone number… it’s exhausting, being this beautiful’ Eliott’s laugh is bright and sudden and it is the best sound in the world. He tells him as much:‘I fucking love your laugh so much. Wish I could see it though’ ‘You can, if you want’ They turn on FaceTime, just for a little bit. It’s amazing to see him, to be able to look at each other and soak each other up. It’s also making him even more sad than he already was, because he wants to hold him, cuddle up and kiss him.

‘Do you ever think…’ Eliott starts saying, but stops himself: ‘Never mind. It’s not important’‘No, tell me. If it’s something you’re thinking about, it is important.’ Eliott smiles a shy smile and takes a deep breath: ‘Do you ever think about the fact that we’ve spend most of our lives without each other, without knowing the other existed? It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.’Lucas blinks, wonders where he is going with this. ‘I mean, yes, sure, it’s crazy to think about. Why do you ask?’ Eliott seems to hesitate a bit: ‘It’s just that, I can’t wrap my head around it sometimes. I managed to be a pretty decent person most of the time before we met, but now? It’s like you’ve crept into my bloodstream and are just always there. Always on my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, it’s just a lot’

Lucas thinks about this for a minute before he responds.‘In what way?’  ‘I mean, a lot as in, there are moments where I am so overwhelmed by how much I love you that I think I forgot how to breath without you. It’s not a bad thing, necessarily, just, like I said: a lot. You know?’ He hums at that. He does know, because he feels the same. ‘I get what you mean. I always thought I would hate sleeping next to a boyfriend, because during slumber parties Yann and I constantly fought about how much of the blanket each of us was entitled to. Never would I have guessed that a few years later, I could hardly sleep without said boyfriend next to me.’ ‘So you have that problem too, huh?’ ‘Yes but if you tell anybody about this I will deny it with every fiber of my being.’ This elicits another laugh from Eliott, who throws his head back against the pillows on the small screen of Lucas’ phone. ‘I can’t believe it’s almost half past 3 now. You know what? Your talk about not being able to breath without me just made me think of something’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘We could just keep listening to each other breath, tonight, keep the phones on? Maybe it will help with falling asleep. It’s not the same as feeling you next to me, but…’ He trails off, feeling a bit silly about the suggestion as soon as he’s said it. Maybe he’s more tired than he thought he was.‘I would like that, Lucas’ He should have known that Eliott, ever his savior, would never laugh at one of his ideas.

They switch back to calling without FaceTime and lay their phones next to their heads. Their combined breathes have the calming effect on Lucas he hoped it would have. Just before he drifts asleep, he thinks he hears Eliott whisper I love you Lucas, thank you for tonight. The last conscious thought that Lucas has is I’d do anything for you, I’d give you the moon and the stars if you’d ask for them.

[neutral-nobody]

Dare

A/N: This is the result of me sitting myself down and forcing myself to write. So I hope it’s enjoyable.

Synopsis: Truth or Dare is rough when everyone avoids picking truth.

Word Count: 2901

Virus World belongs to @voiceoflarka

“Is the coast clear?” Mana asked, watching intently as Liadan peered out the window of their dorm. She looked left to right a few times, before turning to Mana and shrugging.

“Looks like it, but you can never tell with Mu, can you?”

“Not really, no,” Mana let out a deep sigh and collapsed back on the couch. She pulled out her phone and checked the time on it. “Fifteen minutes to go now.”

“I’m so sorry I got you into this mess,” Liadan said, though her tone was somewhat light-hearted. “I didn’t think it would turn into … whatever this is.”

“An elaborate war game. A challenge of life and death?” Mana suggested.

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Mana peered at the door again, glad that Liadan was standing guard. She was antsy for this game to be over. Normally, dares did not carry over into the next day, but Mu and Mana’s self-admitted stubbornness had allowed it to continue. Neither were the type to back down, after all.

The team had been playing truth or dare yesterday. Since everyone was carrying a large amount of emotional baggage they were not interested in sharing, everyone picked dare. It started easy enough; Suv being dared to hang upside-down on the couch for an entire round. Nao being dared to eat a teaspoon of Liadan’s hottest chilli sauce. Xav having to sit on Victor’s lap for a round. Simple, but funny things. From there, it got wilder; Mu being dared to give his phone to Liadan for her to post something on his Instagram. Mana still was not sure what she had done for that. Mana and Victor being group dared into a push-up contest, loser having to be a footrest for a round after. Naturally, Mana lost that one, but she was a good sport and committed to her punishment.

Eventually, the big dare came out.

---

“Alright, I have a group dare,” Liadan smirked and rubbed her hands together menacingly.

“Who for? Please tell me no more push-ups,” Mana pleaded, rubbing her back. “I don’t wanna be a footrest again.”

“I’m sorry!” Victor said, for the fifth time. Mana just shrugged at him.

“No, no more push-ups,” Liadan chuckled at her. “But it’s still a competition dare.”

“Who’s in?” Nao asked.

“Hm… Mu and Mana,” Liadan looked between the two of them. “I dare you two, to have a boop-off!”

“A.., what?” Mu tilted his head in confusion at her.

“A boop-off. We set a time limit, whoever between the two of you is the last to boop the other on the nose, wins!”

“Seriously?!” Mana crossed her arms and grimaced. “First push-ups with the strongest one here, now I have to boop the hardest one to catch? You all have it out for me, I swear.”

“I thought competing with Victor would motivate you!” Suv replied quickly.

“Motivated me to never do it again.”

“Ignoring Mana’s whining,” Xav said, rolling his eyes at her, “What’s the time limit?”

“Well, the normal time limit I’ve seen is 24 hours,” Liadan pondered, remembering the instructions on the website she got the idea from. “But we could always shorten-”

“Nah I wanna these two try for a whole day, that sounds hilarious,” Nao interrupted, now with a menacing grin on his face. “Imagine how competitive Mana will get.”

“Yeah, let’s do 24 hours!” Suv agreed. Liadan sighed, but then nodded.

“Alright then, 24 hours,” she relented. She looked at the clock on the wall. “The time is… 10.30pm, so we’ll start now.”

Before anyone could react, Mana cried out as suddenly she felt a soft boop on her nose. Looking like he had not moved an inch, Mu smirked as he folded his arms and crossed a leg.

“Sorry Mana, I’ve got this one in the bag,” he taunted. Mana just rolled her eyes at him.

“Wait, is there a punishment for losing?” Victor asked. “There was last time.”

“Victor!” Mana shrieked.

“I’m sorry!! I’m trying to follow the rules!” he wailed, waving his hands in front of him as Mana glared fiercely.

“Someone could always be a footrest for a week,” Nao suggested.

“Loser buys the winner dinner?” Suv offered.

“How about,” Xav scratched his chin in thought, “Winner gets to ask the loser a truth question, since we all keep picking dare.”

“Oh, I like that,” Nao grinned at Xav. “Who knew you were so devious?”

“No thank you,” Mana shook her head at that.

“What do you think I’ll ask you, Mana?” Mu teased. “I’m sure there’s plenty to tell.”

“Oh, it is on,” Mana turned her glare towards him now. “Just you wait, I’ll boop you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

---

“Ten minutes now,” Liadan’s eyes were on the clock, breaking Mana out of her thoughts.

“We’re getting there,” Mana breathed deeply. “We’re almost there.”

“Thank goodness,” Liadan breathed along with her, trying to help her calm down.

“I just… I don’t want Mu asking… you know…” Mana went quiet. Liadan knew what she was hinting at. It had been obvious to her for a while now. She was good at intuiting Mana like that. Everyone played their cards close to their chest in this team, but Mana was always the hardest to crack open when it came to personal information. Liadan had accepted it at this point, if she was going to learn things about the eevee virus, she would have to be patient.

“I know, Mana, I know,” she comforted. She wanted to head to the couch and sit with her, but she was on guard duty and had to stay at the door.

“I’m not ready for that. Not at all.”

“Well, look on the bright side? You’re winning right now,” Liadan said, trying to cheer her up.

“Don’t jinx it!” Mana exclaimed. “You know he’s out there.”

Liadan sighed and nodded, thinking back on just how hard Mana had worked to get that last boop in.

---

“I’m getting worried now, I haven’t seen Mana in three hours,” Mu looked down at his phone. He had finally found Liadan’s post; it was just a photo of a potato. With no caption. Mu didn’t even remember a potato in the room. It really clashed with the aesthetic of his Gram, that was for sure.

“You think she’s up to something?” Victor wondered.

“Probably?” Mu shrugged. “She hasn’t tried to get me since training this morning.”

“I’m impressed she kept at for so long,” Victor chuckled. “You didn’t give her a real chance though.”

“All’s fair in boops and war,” Mu joked.

Mu and Victor exited the room they were in, into the school courtyard. Knowing that the coast was clear, the two began heading for their trainees’ dorms. Whilst Victor’s eyes focused straight ahead, Mu was constantly looking around, making sure that Mana was no where near him. They were in the early evening now; she was surely getting desperate. Desperate enough for a crazy scheme? He was not sure. Even still, he wouldn’t put it past her.

“Guys, wait up!” A familiar voice called out behind them. The 99ers turned around to see Liadan running up to them. “Have you seen Mana anywhere?”

“No, we haven’t,” Victor answered. “Is everything alright?”

“I haven’t seen her,” she explained. “I’m worried she’s planning something stupid.”

“Well whatever it is, it won’t work,” Mu boasted. “I’m too fast for her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liadan rolled her eyes. “You made that clear at training. You’re oh so fast and strong.”

“What do you… oh…” Mu looked down. “I’ve been boasting too much, haven’t I?”

“Kind of, yes,” Victor said with a shrug. “Almost as bad as Nao.”

“Oh no, that bad?”

“That bad.”

“Well, I can’t apologise now, not until I win,” Mu sighed. “I’ll do it then.”

The trio continued walking towards the dorm, an uneasy silence over them. Mu’s eyes continued to dart around, especially when they passed his usual tree. No sign of her there. The idea of her being bold enough to hide in there made him almost laugh. That would have been a hell of an attempt. Especially with how bad Mana was at hiding. He decided to save that idea for later, if Mana somehow managed to get him back.

“What are you going to ask her, if you win?” Liadan asked, breaking their silence. Mu turned around, an uncertain look on his face.

“I don’t actually know…” he mumbled.

“Wait, you don’t?!” Victor asked, completely shocked. “You seemed like you did?”

“I don’t want to ask something that will upset her, you know?” he shrugged and looked down again. “Last time I asked personal questions I got the silent treatment for a long time. I doubt she’ll want to answer me again.”

“A dare is a dare, so she knows she would have to,” Liadan said. “Come on now, if you wanted to ask something personal, you know you have both grown so much closer! Surely she would answer you this time?”

“This is Mana we’re talking about,” Mu bit his lip. “She clams up.”

“Well, maybe just ask her something like her favourite colour?” Victor suggested. Liadan and Mu just stared at him, until he sighed. “Bad example, I know.”

“Maybe, or I could ask-”

Mu’s words were cut off by a loud noise, what sounded like a firework going off behind him. Turning around wildly, he noticed Liadan waving her hand slightly too late. A figure burst from the tree line above them, camouflaged by her green and brown attire. As he turned back to face them, it was who he was expecting, but also not. Mana’s green ears and sultry smirk on her face were something he had not seen for a long time. Quick as a flash, she booped his nose and left him with some parting words.

“Not this time, Big Cat.”

Mu was too stunned to give chase as she beelined it back to their dorm, her evolution giving her extra speed to make her escape. He looked back up to the tree, so shocked he didn’t see her. His eyes then narrowed as he turned to Liadan.

“You traitor.”

“I… have to go… bye!” She waved awkwardly, then dashed off after Mana.

“Wow… I can’t believe they played us like that,” Victor laughed. “That was impressive.”

Mu nodded, but then a smirk of determination grew on his face.

“Looks like it’s our turn to set a trap then.”

---

“I still can’t believe they fell for that,” Liadan mused.

“You make an excellent distraction,” Mana complimented. “Nobody expects the straight-man.”

“I also can’t believe you called Mu Big Cat,” she teased.

“Leafeon has pet names for everyone, it’s nothing special,” Mana defended herself. She was blushing hard at this point.

“Oh really, what’s mine then?”

“Firecracker.”

“Oh… well thank you!” Liadan beamed at her, a light blush now on her cheeks. She turned back to the window as there was a sudden noise outside.

“Is it him?” Mana asked, now ducking behind the couch.

“No… it’s… Horns?!” Liadan said, incredulously. “What’s he doing here so late?!”

“I don’t know!”

Liadan opened the door so slightly as the cow virus approached.

“Horns, is everything okay?” Liadan asked. “You’re out of breath.”

“It’s… it’s Jolly…” Horns was panting. “Something’s wrong… please…”

“Mana?” Liadan asked, looking back at her. To her surprise, Mana was already heading for the door.

“Let’s go,” she said, a look of determination on her face. Horns nodded and started running. Liadan and Mana did their best to keep up, but Horns was always surprisingly fast. They kept running through the corridors, then into the courtyard. Horns stopped, then turned around and looked to the two of them.

“Horns, what’s-”

“Gotcha.”

To Mana’s horror, Mu dropped down from the tree above her, his tree. Hanging upside down, he quickly booped her on the nose and winked. Mana shrieked and tried to get him back, but it was already too late as his phantom image disappeared.

“Aaand time!” Suv called out, jumping out from behind a wall. “Mu wins!”

“Yeah! We did it!” Xav cried out, jumping out as well.

“We got you good, Mana,” Nao laughed as he popped out. “Your face is priceless!”

Mana stood dumbfounded, looking between them all. Her eyes then fell onto Horns.

“How did you get roped into this?”

“Well, after you barred all of us from the dorm,” Victor said, stepping out from his hiding place as well. “We crashed at Gamma and Psi’s.”

“God was everyone in on it?!” Mana exclaimed.

“Sorry Mana…” Horns mumbled. Mana sighed but then smiled at him.

“No Horns, I’m not mad at you, don’t apologize,” she reassured. Horns beamed at her appreciatively.

“We knew you wouldn’t let any of us in,” Victor continued. “So, we needed another strategy.”

“Then, I thought we could use Horns as bait! Because no one would suspect him!” Suv grinned, boasting at his master plan.

“That’s harsh…” Horns mumbled again.

“Because you’re so nice.”

“I didn’t think you were such a good actor, I’m impressed,” Liadan admitted.

“Nao made me run laps so I would be ‘in character’ when I got there,” Horns glared at him. Nao just grinned back at him.

“And it worked. You’re welcome.”

“So, what happens now?” Liadan asked.

“What happens,” everyone turned to see Mu sitting in another tree directly behind Horns. “Is Mana and I are going to have a little chat whilst everyone turns in for the night.”

“But I wanna hear it,” Nao whined. Victor just put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“No one said everyone had to hear the question,” he said simply.

“Thanks for the assist,” Mu jumped out of the tree and gave Horns a pat on the shoulder.

“I… wow… No worries!” Horns squeaked. “I need to get back to the dorm now, bye!”

“Bye Horns!” Xav called out, waving to him. “Make sure you tell them what happened!”

“Yeah, Gamma will be clamouring to know,” Victor laughed. He then turned to the rest of the team. “Come on guys, let’s give these two some space.”

“Alright, let’s go, I’m exhausted,” Suv yawned, stretching his arms. “It’s hard being the smart one. Thank god we have you Liadan, I couldn’t do this all the time.”

“Fair enough,” Liadan laughed and then sighed. She put a reassuring hand on Mana’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

Mana and Mu were then left to the courtyard, alone.

---

“You know…” Mu said, looking up at the stars, “You’re very good at the silent treatment.”

“Thank you, I try,” Mana rolled her eyes at him. “I’m just waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“For your question.”

“Right…”

Before now, they had been sitting in the courtyard for ten minutes, on one of the benches. Mu noticed Mana getting more and more tense, and was once again refusing to meet his gaze. He hated it when she got like that, and he hated that he seemed to be the cause of it. He took a deep breath, finally settling on a question for her.

“Okay, I have my question.”

“Alright, shoot,” Mana still didn’t look at him.

“Are you mad at me?”

Mana did a double take, looking at him in sheer confusion.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I… why would I be mad at you?”

“Well you won’t look at me, for one,” Mu started, causing Mana to look down again. “And I did just win. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Mu… I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at,” she paused, then let out a deep sigh. “At the situation.”

“The situation?”

“You try being put into a competition to boop one of the quickest beings known to virus-kind, who can leave an phantom image behind, and when he wins he gets to ask you any personal question,” Mana’s voice raised with every word until she was practically shouting. Mu flinched back, surprised.

“Mana… I…”

“It’s not your fault,” Mana sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “But you can see where I’m coming from. It’s a hopeless, powerless situation.”

“But you got me,” Mu grabbed Mana’s hand off his shoulder and held it tightly. “You actually got me. It was amazing.”

“It was sheer luck.”

“No, it was a good plan,” Mu assured her. “You did really well. I did not expect Leafeon to come out.”

“Mu…”

“Why her? Jolteon is quick too.”

“Well, for one, Jolteon is bright yellow,” Mana pointed out, and Mu chuckled at that. “Two, Jolteon can’t sit still. Too bouncy, not good for hiding. Leafeon knows how to be chill, well, sometimes.”

Mu nodded; her reasoning was sound. Another smirk grew on his face.

“Big Cat, though?”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” Mana sighed and covered her face with her hands.

“It’s cute.”

“Leafeon gives everyone pet names, I swear.”

“It’s okay, I believe you,” Mu chuckled. There was another pause between them, before Mana spoke up.

“Ask another one.”

“I’m sorry?” Mu asked.

“Ask again. Don’t waste a question on that. You know I could never hate you, Mu.”

“Okay then…” Mu looked down, scratching his cheek in thought. “I’ve got it.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you want to go get some ice-cream?”

“Mu, it’s 11pm.”

“And?”

Mana sighed, but then laughed. Mu chuckled along with her.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

[justjessame]

Dr. Tali Sullivan Chapter 26

I was picking up the mail almost a week after Christmas, after coming home with all the snacks and drinks for our private New Years Eve celebration, when I saw what looked like a late holiday card. Thinking it was probably for Harvey or from one of my students, I added it to one of the shopping bags and drove down our driveway careful of the slippery snow that kept coming.

“Here, let me grab those,” Harvey was holding Abi in his arms at the front door as I started to get out of the car. Handing her to me, giving me a kiss on my forehead, he started pulling the shopping out. “Get inside before you catch cold,” he ordered playfully, but I held Abi and the door for him so we could head in together.

I sat my little one down, and smiled as she chased after him to the kitchen. Taking off my coat, scarf, and gloves before kicking off my boots, I listened to him talking to her as he put things away.

“Look at this, Abi-boo,” he was saying as I followed his voice. “Mommy got you the gummy fruits that you love,” I listened as I heard him ripping open the box and then another little tearing sound as he opened a pouch for her. “Here, before she gets in here and tells me-”

“That you’re ruining her dinner?” I offered, making him jump dramatically to earn the giggles of our little girl. I leaned against the doorway and watched him take a gummy from the pouch and wiggle his nose at Abi. “I’m not sure about having another baby, raising the two of you might be enough.”

He grinned and rushed to me to wrap me in his arms, making me squeak and getting more giggles from Abigail. He buried his head in my neck and growled, her giggles hitting a fever pitch as I smacked his shoulder. “You love us, Tali.”

I felt his lips curving against my skin and melted into his touch. “Maybe a little.” A nip to my neck and I nearly moaned, but remembered we had a small audience. “A lot,” I corrected in a breath.

 I’d forgotten the mail, the card that had come, as I sat reading Abi a story after her gummy snack and dinner. As I read to her about a good witch, a book that was clearly a gift from her Auntie Ro, Harvey came in with a piping cup of tea for me and a beer for himself. He also had the stack of mail tucked under his arm.

Abi had started nodding off as I read, and Harvey was flicking through the mail, sorting it into his, mine, ours, and trash. Seeing our little one pouting in her sleep, he came over quietly and took her from me.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart, let me put her in her crib.” I felt a harsh tug on my heart as I watched her tiny body cradled in his arms as he kept rocking slightly as he took her upstairs.

I was nursing my tea, smiling at the logs ready to be lit in the fireplace, when I heard him come back to the living room. Harvey saw where my eyes were focused and went to work building up a fire that was unnecessary for warmth, but completely wanted for the crackle and scent. Once the fire was built, he sat beside me, and tugged so my back was snuggled into his chest.

“This has been the best fucking year of my life,” he whispered into my hair. “Meeting you, hearing Abi call me da-da, convincing you to marry my sorry ass, and now-” his hand touched the slight curve that housed our tiny one, “knowing that I get to experience it from the very beginning? I don’t think next year stands a fucking chance of topping this year.”

I bit my lip and let my hand cover his. “I know.” I was watching the flames, my tea forgotten, and just enjoying the feeling of his heart beating against my back. “I didn’t think, coming back after-” I’d told Harvey the truth, about my death and my resurrection. I never wanted us to have secrets, and with his background, the shadowy agency he worked for, he took the knowledge in stride. As he did Cas’ identity, Rowena and Crowley’s truth, all of it. He just listened and said that knowing about the darkness of the world made his job make a hell of a lot more sense. “I only thought I’d have my family, but then I crashed into you.”

Harvey’s arms tightened around me. “Best fucking crash of my life, Tali.”

We rang in the New Year on the soft rug in front of the fire. Taking our time, feeling every inch of skin covering one another, and savoring every second. Harvey made my name sound like a prayer and I worshipped him just as easily. He finally carried me to our bed, and we started over. If whomever you spend New Year’s Eve with is who you spend the new year with, then we wanted to make damn sure that we cemented it.

 The next morning, as Harvey made pancakes, I picked up our discarded clothes off the living room floor and noticed the mail still waiting to be opened. After I tossed the dirty laundry in the hamper, I grabbed up the piles and brought them into the kitchen in time to see him making silly faces and noises while Abi laughed from her high chair.

“One day,” I offered, sitting down at the table and cutting up Abi’s pancake into small bites, “I’m going to record you entertaining her and send it to EVERYONE on your email list.”

He snorted and set our plates down on the table. “Like everyone on my list doesn’t already know I’m wrapped around Abi-boo’s tiny little finger.” Noticing the mail he separated the piles again and as we ate, and took turns feeding our hungry daughter, started going through the stack.

I saw that the Christmas card was in my pile, which surprised me a little. Everyone I loved had already shared the holidays and presents, but again, it could be a student trying to a little last minute or early sucking up.

“I swear,” Harvey offered, as I was reading over a letter from the college, “even my ‘good’ mail is trash.” I grinned and picked up the heavy envelope.

I didn’t recognize the handwriting or the postmark. Ripping into it, I saw a rather generic card, Santa standing in front of a tree, but realized that it was holding something inside. A folded letter and a photo. Confused, I flipped open the paper, ignoring the card, and saw my own handwriting staring back at me.

“Tali?” Harvey’s voice sounded far away and concerned. “Sweetheart, you’re white as a sheet.”

My hand shook as I read words that I didn’t remember writing, to people named John and Mary. Swallowing hard, I tried to make myself remember who these people could be, from my own hand he was supposedly Abi’s father, but why-

“Tali, honey, please.” I finally looked up, and realized that both Harvey and Abi looked scared. I let out a long breath and shook my head. “What is it, Tali?”

Handing him the letter, I reached out and stroked Abi’s soft curls, wanting to soothe her. Handing her her cup of juice, I noticed the photo that I’d ignored before. Picking it up, I felt like I was on a roller coaster. It showed me, younger, looking like I had during my earliest years teaching, sitting on the lap of a man who looked far too similar to Harvey than I expected. On the back, in the same scrawl as the envelope, was the caption, “John and Tali” along with the year that I’d celebrated my third year of teaching.

The card, I saw, when I felt calm enough to read also bore a message. “Please, Tali, let me explain-” followed by a phone number and the same name signed. “John.”

 Harvey waited until we cleaned up our syrup covered little girl and had her occupied on the living room floor before asking me all the same questions that were circling my head. Who was John? Who was Mary? Why would he make contact now?

“I have to-” I took a deep breath and let him pull me onto his lap. “I need to talk to Rowena.” Feeling his lips touch my temple along with his sigh. “I need to know what the hell is going on.”

“We both do,” he added, and I hoped that whatever was coming wouldn’t cost me the happiness I’d found.

[queenbirbs]

threshold | Ethan Ramsey x MC

AN: A canon-divergent AU from chapter 15 and onward. Part three of the metaphor series, part 1 and part 2 are here. Title taken from The National’s Oblivions.  

WC: 5,970 Rating: Explicit Warning(s): NSFW, some alcohol consumption 

+

He isn’t even in the city when it happens.

Ethan is as far down and as far east as the Massachusetts state line will allow, holed up in a little seaside shack in Eastham, perched on an uncomfortable barstool, and drinking the finest liquor Josie’s Bar and Grill has to offer. Which isn’t really saying much, given the paltry choices and the unmistakable grime of seaspray that coats every glass.

Why Naveen came out here to die is a mystery to him.

His mentor sits to his left, facing the large windows that overlook Samoset Beach and, beyond that, Cape Cod Bay. Outside the minimal protection Josie’s split-shake walls offer, the waves are a noisy, angry mess. A late summer storm roils towards them from the west, turning that deep, coastal blue into an unsettling gray. Wind knocks at the tacky decorations nailed to the walls, the chipped fenders and plastic seahorses and rusted anchors clanking against the clapboard paneling.

There’s a television above the bar, where a looping clip of a home run plays next to a grinning news anchor.

Ethan chooses to watch the liquor in his glass as he swirls it, before picking it up and taking another sip. He’s lost count of how many he’s ordered, but the bartender hasn’t cut him off yet, so he must not be that drunk yet. Which is unfortunate, really -- because that would make this a hell of a lot easier.

“I still think--” he starts, but he’s quickly cut off.

“Oh, yes, I know. That is the root of all of your problems, I believe.” Naveen tilts his head to grin at him. “You think too much. Sometimes, it’s important to let your brain rest.”

“So, what -- you let yours rest and it somehow convinced you that giving up is the best option?” Ethan mutters. Tossing back the rest of his drink, he sets it down none-too-gently against the gritty bartop and motions for another.

Next to him, Naveen sighs, the line of his shoulders easing.

“This is where you and I part ways. I don’t see it as giving up. I see it as fate handing me the most ironic of cards to deal.”

Ethan shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with the dreamy tone to Naveen’s voice.

“I think it’s time to settle your tab.”

“I’m not intoxicated. My two beers don’t hold a candle to your eight rounds, anyway.” Before Ethan can object to the number (though the numb feeling in his lips tells him it’s likely an accurate count), Naveen continues. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my short time drunk. I want to see the world with clear eyes, take in the beauty it has to offer me.”

Twisting to glance over his shoulder, Ethan takes in the stormy scape that he’s watching and snorts.

“Doesn’t seem like much to me.”

“That’s because you’re viewing it with your eyes closed, my boy. You expect the worst, so you see nothing. Your pessimism has put a knife on the things that held you together, and you have fallen apart. There is beauty in everything, though -- the white petals of the waves, the rolling current, the sound the rain makes atop the water. You see a nuisance; I see a force of nature.”

Across from them, three of the bar’s seven patrons toss back shots of cheap tequila, their University of Delaware T-shirts a searing shade of yellow. The other two patrons are seated at the end of the horseshoe-shaped bar, picking at a plate of mozzarella sticks, disappointment visible in the turn of their frowns.

That Doctor Naveen Banerji, esteemed diagnostician and saver of thousands of lives, would choose such a locale to spend his last days on earth is so depressing a thought that Ethan tosses the fresh glass of scotch back and signals immediately for another one. “Oh, now, that’s a poor response to my waxing poetic to… oh, goodness.”

He looks up just as Naveen’s hand comes to settle on his wrist, squeezing it tightly as he stares just over Ethan’s right shoulder. Turning his head sharply, he searches for what’s brought such concern into Naveen’s gaze. It doesn’t take long to find it.

On the television, a reporter stands at the intersection of Nashua Street and Route 28, her eyes wide and face pale under the camera crew’s bright lights.

A growing horror paralyzes Ethan as he takes in the scene behind her, lit up by the emergency lights. Two subway cars lie on their sides, smashed into the pavement. A third car dangles over the side of the elevated track, clinging to a fourth car that’s crushed between a pillar and the station. Concrete slabs and metal sheeting litter the asphalt from where the cars broke through the station’s barrier. The taillights of two automobiles, their cabins crushed underneath the fallen train, reflect the incessant pulse of police lights. Blue tarpaulin sheets cover the windows of the subway cars, hiding the gruesome scenes inside from the public eye.

Dozens injured in Green Line train derailment, the white text in the lower third reads.

The bar’s music is too loud for him to hear, but the closed captions across the bottom of the screen do little to alleviate his worries, especially when death toll remains unknown tickers across.

“That’s the station most of the employees use, correct?” Naveen asks. But his voice sounds as if he’s speaking through a wall. Ethan can only hear the distinct noise of his heartbeat in his ears that blocks everything else out.

“It is,” he chokes out, his hands immediately scrambling for the phone in his pocket.

It’s the station Sloane uses religiously, despite another being closer to the hospital, because she gets to enjoy a scenic walk down Thoreau Path. The same path she followed him down when he quit, demanding he stop and talk to her. Which he ignored and kept on walking, leaving her behind (and then leaving her in every other sense of the word and god, what an idiot he was for thinking that was for the best). Every ounce of injured pride and disappointment in himself as a doctor pales to the hot twist of nausea he feels as he looks over the accident scene.  

Tapping her name, he brings the phone to his ear and waits with bated breath as it rings. There’s no relief, though, when the call rolls to her voicemail. Her cheery tone promises that she’ll return his call just as soon as she can.

“It’s Ethan,” he says after the beep. “I’m out of town with -- I, please call me back and let me know you’re alright. I saw the news about the subway accident and I just… I need you to call me back. Please.”

Naveen’s grip tightens on his arm. Behind them, the storm rages closer; the windows rattle in their panes, the rain pelts at the glass.

“She’s okay, don’t worry.”

Ethan shakes his head, dragging in a strangled breath as panic sinks its claws into him. Dialing the hospital next, he realizes by the sixth try that he’s not going to get through to anyone there -- the lines are too clogged with loved ones, demanding to know if their spouse or sibling or best friend has been admitted. When he tries to access the day’s shift schedule, his work email throws up an error message, notifying him that his account has been deactivated and to contact his network administrator for help.

Text me back. I need to know you’re okay, he sends her, staring at the screen in hopes the three little dots will appear.

No reply comes.

Unable to sit there and wait patiently, Ethan moves down his contact list, worry outweighing the awkwardness of texting colleagues that he left high and dry with his sudden departure. He sends a text to Zaid and Ines and even one to Harper, requesting for them to let him know if all staff are safe and accounted for.

It’s a pointless move, though, given that such a situation would call for an all-hands-on-deck in the ER. And when ten more minutes go by with no responses, he signals for another round.

“If I know our Doctor McTavish, she’s certainly too busy helping out to bother with the likes of you,” Naveen points out, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips.

Ethan ruminates on his recent track record: losing Dolores, failing Naveen and letting him walk away from a possible cure (that he’s yet to find). It wouldn’t be such a leap to follow the pattern that his life has taken recently and assume the worst with Sloane.

“I want to share your optimism, but I -- I seem to carry bad luck around with me lately,” he mutters. His gaze is set firmly on the television screen, not daring himself to look away in the event they reveal any sort of clue. They wouldn’t announce casualties, not this soon and not without notifying family first. It’s the only solace he can take right now.

“No,” Naveen corrects, patting him gently, “you carry a bad attitude. There is a difference.”

Before he can start up a speech on looking at the bright side and other empty phrases of comfort, the power flickers once, then twice, before succumbing to the storm and winking out entirely. Darkness soaks the bar. Shouts of alarm from the college kids soon grow to rough peals of laughter as the bartender cracks a joke. The only light comes from what little evening sun makes it through the thick clouds, mottling the gray sky with a tinge of bruised yellow.

There’s a flurry of movement as staff search and retrieve candles, setting them on the bartop. Someone hauls out a Coleman lantern and a crank radio and the disappointed couple even joins in, offering to buy everyone a round. Raucous shouts of praise come from the college kids over the snappy vocals of Eddie Rabbitt, professing his love for a rainy night.

It’s the kind of scene that Sloane would insist on joining, would demand he get off his barstool and dance with her, would croon along to the song in that terrible singing voice of hers. The one Ethan only knows about because of the many mornings he’s driven the both of them to work, when it’s gotten too late for her to bother heading home after a night of research (among other things) at his place, when he acquiesces to her demands to play something other than the local classical station.  

The thought of never hearing her off-key singing, or never experiencing the comfort of her giving into sleep and leaning against him on his couch, or never waking with her next to him -- it’s a little too much for him and his eleven rounds to handle.

Dropping his phone onto the bar, Ethan covers his face with his hands and tries to shove away the emotions that threaten to make their way to the surface. He pushes them down, stuffing them into the dented suitcase that is his heart and he’s too drunk for this, for thinking in metaphors, for thinking of Sloane behind those blue tarps, bloodied and bruised, far too injured for help, being passed over by paramedics when they realize the same thing, leaving her alone to--

“Oh, Ethan,” Naveen is saying, his palm moving in soothing circles against his back. “It’s going to be alright.”

There’s movement to his left, a pained grunt as Naveen moves to stand, his hand never leaving his back. The bartender comes over and the two talk in low tones about the tab, and then a taxi. Some undetermined amount of time passes, which Ethan spends thinking more terrible thoughts while Naveen murmurs placating words. Then he’s being hauled out of the bar and under the front awning, where a tremendous downpour and a yellow cab arrive simultaneously for them.

He spends the short ride with his eyes firmly shut, listening to Naveen’s soft conversation with someone named Ninut, who promises to call him back if they can find out if Sloane is on shift. Then there’s a tastefully-decorated coastal bungalow and a cream couch with entirely too many throw pillows, the latter of which Naveen leads him to and demands for him to lie down on. Given how hazy everything looks in the lamplight, Ethan follows his orders.

Disappearing around the corner, Naveen bangs about in the kitchen -- opening and closing cabinets, running water, knocking a spoon against glass -- before he shuffles back into the living room. He pushes a glass of water into Ethan’s hands.

“What’s in this?”

“A physician-certified hangover cure.”

He takes a sip, then another, but can taste nothing around the lump in his throat.

“It’s just water, isn’t it?”

“A physician never reveals his secrets.”

“We’re not magicians,” Ethan scoffs.

“No?” Naveen settles onto the couch and tips his head to the side, his eyes softening as he looks over his protégé. “I thought you believed yourself to be one, seeing as you’ve been trying to treat something incurable for the past two months.”

In lieu of a response, Ethan takes another drink of water. Across the room, sliding glass doors frame an image of the bay, where storm clouds still circle overhead. “Go to sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”

“I’m… not sure I want to,” Ethan admits, damning the weak state of his voice. “Things might be different when I wake up and I don’t… I’m not sure...”

Right now, he’s stuck in the metaphorical waiting room, waiting to hear if Sloane is alive, and he suddenly doesn’t want those double doors to open. If they do, it could be the Bad News. If they stay shut, if he never hears back from her, then he could exist here in this limbo, where he’s free to hope for the best outcome.

He thinks of her on that rooftop earlier this year, of how she’d told that man about how important it was to say goodbye. And now he may never get that chance.

This is all a simple overreaction, brought on by the distance between them (the literal and figurative -- both of which are his fault) and his own insecurities. There’s no proof she was on that train or that she was even working today. But he can’t trust being positive -- it’s a viewpoint that’s let him down too many times this past year. So, he considers the Worst Possible Thing and picks at it like a scab.

“When are you going to tell her?”

Ethan can’t help the dry chuckle that escapes him as he shakes his head at the question.

“I almost did, months ago. And now, with everything else... never.”

“That doesn’t seem fair -- to you, or to her. She deserves to know, and you deserve to tell her.”

“It probably isn’t that serious,” he says (lies). “It’s simply a release of dopamine and serotonin, an attachment formed over a high-stress field of work. It’s a normal reaction--”

“Frailty, thy name is Ethan,” Naveen mutters with a sigh. “This isn’t an NBIO class. This is your life.”

He’s too far gone to withhold the wince at Naveen’s words.

“A life I walked away from,” Ethan points out. “I left her, didn’t bother to return her calls, knowing she would eventually stop.”

“And did she?”

“No,” he admits, dragging in a breath at the admission. Staring up at the ceiling, he listens to the rain as it pounds against the back deck. “So why now… this time -- why hasn’t she called me back?”

The cushion next to him rustles as the older man stands, casting a look over him. Ethan resists the childish urge to tug the blanket up over his face when Naveen reaches down to pat his cheek, a fond grin on his face, embodying an optimism that Ethan can’t trust himself to feel.

“You wouldn’t have fallen in love with her if she were the type of doctor to shirk her duties, now, would you?” Before he can come up with a retort for that, Naveen continues. “Now, listen to your teacher. Go to sleep.”  

With that, he moves to switch off the nearby lamp and continues on down to the hall. Ethan can hear the muffled noise of him getting ready for bed, and then nothing but the rain. It never slows, instead continuing its steady beat against the house. Eventually, the warmth of the liquor in his stomach and the white noise of the rainfall pulls him into a reluctant sleep.

Forty minutes later, tucked between his fingers, his phone vibrates steadily against his chest once before the battery gives out and the screen goes black.

+

He wakes to coffee.

Not the smell of it, but a white container of it, the green mermaid coyly smiling up at him from the wicker coffee table. In black marker, Evan is scrawled across the negative space, the boxes all marked correctly.

Sitting up, he takes a sip and tries to will away the immediate throbbing in his head. Outside, the morning is bright. The only evidence of the night’s storm is the color of the deck, still damp and colored a deep burgundy. He makes his way over to the doors to pull the blinds across when a bright spot against the deck catches his attention. It’s a pair of sneakers, a teal-blue, save for the little pink check marks on the side.

Shoving the door across its track, Ethan stumbles out and looks right -- where Sloane looks up from the view she’s enjoying, her own coffee poised at her lips. She’s sprawled in one of the Adirondack chairs, a towel between her and the wet wood.

“Good morning,” she greets.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The words are out of his mouth before he can consider them.

For her part, Sloane simply raises an eyebrow at the rough tone.

“Wow, all right, Naveen was right. Hungover Ethan is not a morning person.” She pushes up from the chair and makes her way over to him as she talks. “I got your text -- and your twenty-eight missed calls -- once my shift ended. I tried calling you back, but it went straight to voicemail.”

He retrieves the phone from his pocket, palming the black screen that refuses to wake at his touch. The phone he forgot to put on charge, given how inebriated he was. “So,” she continues, “I called Naveen, who sent a car for me this morning. He’s gone, by the way -- he left shortly after I arrived, said he was heading for warmer waters in Fort Lauderdale. He instructed me, and by extension you, I presume, to enjoy the house for the remainder of the weekend.”

When he says nothing in return and continues to watch her with that same bewildered expression on his face, Sloane shifts her stance, then shifts again. “I’ve been suspended, for what happened with Mrs. Martinez, and I don’t know if I’ll have a job come Monday, and after yesterday -- or last night, or whatever,” she waves a hand in the air, still foggy after catching five hours of sleep, with one of those being in the car ride across the bay. “And even though I wasn’t sure where we stood exactly, you were the only person I wanted to see after… all of that.”

She stops talking, giving him an opening.

And still, nothing.

Down at the water’s edge, seagulls call out to one another, bobbing up and down on the waves. To the north, the shore curls back towards them, the shadowed land a deep blue. Boxes of white and gray and blue sit atop the sand. Strips of high grass create a frame for the beach homes, the green fronds rippling in the wind coming off the water. Puffy clouds loom to the southwest, a promise of more rain.  

“I thought you died.”

The sudden admission from him brings her up short.

“I was working triage for eleven hours. You expect me to pull out my phone and keep up with snap streaks at a time like that?”

His brows furrow at the term he can’t place.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I know. It’s probably one of those weird things I like about you, but it still doesn’t--” she pauses when Ethan steps closer. He grasps her shoulder, his other hand tipping her chin up to meet her gaze.

“What I meant was that I thought I’d lost you before… anything could really begin.”

Sloane brings her hand up to cover his where he cradles her cheek, gently shaking her head.

“We already had something. And then you quit. You left.” She bites at her lip, silencing the rest of what she wants to say, but they both hear the addition she doesn’t voice: you left me. “And then when I hear from you again, it’s a slew of voicemails of you drunkenly demanding to assure you that I’m alive. Which I understand, but I was hoping you would want to talk to me about what happened. That you would want to talk with me because you wanted to, not to make sure I hadn’t been crushed to death in a subway accident.”

Her harsh phrasing causes him to wince, bringing forth smudged memories of last night’s dreams, of his hands covered in her blood, of her begging him to just hold her hand because there was nothing else that could be done for her.  

Unable to stop himself, he leans down and drops a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, trying to convey so much into such paltry words. “I am. I was selfish. I walked away from Edenbrook because I don’t deserve to call myself a physician, but I… I shouldn’t have walked away from the most important thing: us.”

Stretching up on her toes, Sloane presses her lips against his cheek. His eyes flutter closed at the familiar touch, cursing himself for what an idiot he was to walk away from this woman.

“I still don’t agree with your reason for quitting, but I can’t claim that I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your position, given your history with Naveen.”

“He’s taught me everything I know.” Ethan sighs, tipping his head down to rest against hers. Her arms encircle him, pulling him into an embrace. “The most important of which is that not everything is under my control. Applying and understanding that notion, however, is the real problem.”

He feels her sigh against him, the sound of it a balm to his nerves. How he could’ve ever blamed the love he feels for her on nothing more than neurochemicals causes a bolt of shame to course through him.

“It’ll take time,” Sloane says. “I may understand the reason behind your sudden… departure, but it doesn’t excuse how you went about it. I get the need to burrow into yourself and have some time alone to figure things out, but you can’t shut me out completely in the process. I’ll be right here to help you, but only if you let me.”

Swallowing around the tight feeling in his throat, he murmurs another apology and kisses the crown of her head, ruffling her hair with his next question.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she assures, humming contentedly as she tips her head up to meet him for a proper kiss.

It’s a catalyst, a spark to the overwhelming need in the both of them. Ethan moves; his fingers card through her hair, hanging onto her for dear life as he backs her up against the door, his lips only parting from hers when his lungs demand it. Taking the detour that the curve of her throat offers, he nips at the skin there, pleased when it flushes pink from his attention. That base, human need to have curls up in his belly and spreads outward, warming his limbs and singing in his blood.

Sloane whimpers under the warm swipe of his tongue as he soothes the rosy skin he’s bitten. Her hands aren’t idle, though; she moves up between them to unbutton his shirt, her deft fingers making quick work of it.

Inside his head, he’s telling her how much he needs her, how much he wants this, wants her, wants them for as long as the foreseeable future allows (and forever beyond that, if that’s something she wants, too). What he says instead is her name, rasping it out when she takes control and pivots them, forcing him up against the house. The shingles dig into his back but he can’t bring himself to care as Sloane makes her own path down his chest, shoving his shirt panels aside and rounding on his nipple. The sudden warm heat of her mouth against the chill morning air is enough to remind him of where exactly they’re trying to have each other.

“Wait,” he croaks out, reaching for her as she pulls away, “not here. Someone… the neighbors, they might see.”

A slow smile spreads across her face, her eyes sparkling as she holds out a hand and wiggles her fingers.

“Come with me, then.”

He takes her hand and lets her lead him through the living room and down the hall, where he teases her that she doesn’t know where she’s going, which she proceeds to prove when she opens the closet door and then the guest bathroom.

They eventually make it to an actual bedroom, where he closes the door while she wanders over to the patio doors. Throwing open the white curtains, she lets natural light fill the space. Outside, the hazy blur of rain has moved closer, hovering just off shore. The clouds mute the harsh light of the sun, softening the lines of the room, lengthening the shadows that play across the hardwood.

Drawn to her, Ethan slides his arms around her waist and tugs her into his chest, enjoying the little hitch in her breath. Her fingers dig into his arm, keeping him there (as if he’d go anywhere else).

Dipping his head down, he trails lazy kisses down her neck. The flimsy cardigan she wears falls away easily, slipping off her shoulders. A ragged breath from her urges him on. His lips explore her newly-exposed skin, where clusters of freckles form constellations along the curve of her shoulder. His hands move underneath the blouse she wears, his fingers grazing the warm skin of her hips. She reaches up towards the ceiling, letting him pull the shirt up and off.

And, as always, she’s five steps ahead of him and already wiggling out of her jeans before he can work those off her.

“I’ve waited two weeks -- I’m not really interested in taking things slow this time,” she admits, glancing back at him with that smug look of hers.

He can’t help but mirror her grin as he unhooks her bra.

Frustrated with his slow teasing, Sloane tosses the garment to the floor and starts to turn around when he stops her with a firm grip on her hips, holding her in place. Keeping his movements slow, he gathers her hair and sweeps it over her shoulder. Planting a hand on the arch of her spine, he nudges her forward until she’s forced against the door. She hisses as her chest presses up against the cool glass. Her palms flatten across the smooth surface, her nails trying to dig in for purchase. Starting at the base of her neck, he moves down her vertebral column, his teeth skimming along her skin. More freckles rest along the stretch of her back, fading as they drift towards her spine. Ethan follows their path with his mouth, pleased when he feels her shiver, when he sees the goosebumps that appear in the wake of his wet kisses.

Leaning back, he takes a moment to admire the view she presents, flushed and arched and waiting. For him, he reminds himself as he presses the heel of his hand against his groin, desperate for friction.

Sloane grumbles his name, glaring at him over her shoulder, those pupils of hers blown wide. Her hips do an impatient little wiggle. He strikes, gripping them tight and holding her fast against him. Tracing the edge of her underwear, he slides his fingertips down the lacy fabric, pleased when he finds it damp. This time, his name comes as a groan as Sloane spreads her legs to give him better access.

The sight of her is almost too much. Attempting to expel the need to have her right then and there, he detours -- nipping at her shoulder before stroking her through the lace. A whine escapes her as she tips her head up and all that auburn hair falls like a wave down her back. It brushes his chest and the flowery scent of it combined with the salty taste of her skin is more potent than any tumbler of top shelf liquor.

He works his fingers against her, fast, and then faster, circling her clit. Her hips make aborted little thrusts; her breath fogs the glass in short, heady pants. She’s so wet against his hand, which he can’t help but whisper against her ear, grinning at the shiver that runs through her, knowing that she’s close.

Then he drops his hand and steps back. Before she can voice the words of protest he sees building in her eyes, he spins her around and crowds her up against the glass.

“You’re such an ass.” Her lips brush his as he kisses her once, then again, so he can feel the smile on her face as she says it. His nerves hum with anticipation as she runs both hands up his chest and across his shoulders, grabbing two handfuls of his shirt and stripping it from him.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises. Before she can ask just how he plans on doing so, Ethan drops to his knees.

Sloane cards a hand through his hair, humming at the sight of him. Leaning forward, he mouths at the lacy edge of her underwear; it tickles his tongue as he presses a lazy, wet kiss against her through the fabric. Peeling her underwear off, Ethan drapes her left leg over his shoulder and rubs his stubble along her inner thigh. Like a Pavlovian response, she tilts her hips upwards, silently begging for his touch.

Having mercy on her, he caves, licking a long stripe across her folds. Arousal pools low in his belly at the taste of her, at the clench of her grip in his hair as she guides him to where she needs him most. His gentle grazes along her sex quickly give way to a full-on assault; his fingers part her wider and his tongue flattens against her clit, increasing the pressure as she voices her need for it.

Their gazes lock and he’s overcome with the image of her above him, backlit by the milky light of morning, her skin flushed, her lips parted; his Epione, a Greek goddess come to life.  

“Oh, fuck,” Sloane groans, her breath stuttering as she ascends to her peak. The glass squeals under her sweaty palm as she tries her best to keep upright, her other hand holding him steady so he can continue fucking her with his tongue. “Ethan, please, I--”

Cresting, she breaks apart, shuddering as an orgasm floods through her. He guides her down from her high with gentle kisses across her thigh and then up, trailing along the curve of her hip bone. Following the lines of her body up with his hands, Ethan gets to his feet. Where he’s quickly pulled into a messy kiss, the low thrum of his arousal swelling when her tongue peeks out for a taste of herself on his lips.

“I want to fuck you here.” His cock strains against the confines of his clothing. Nipping at the flushed skin of her throat, he groans when she reaches down to cup him through his pants. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” she tells him, using that medically-trained efficiency of hers to strip him of his remaining garments. Dancing her fingers up his length, she circles a thumb across the head.

Against his neck, Ethan can feel the bloom of her grin as he bucks up into her touch. His hands wrap around her thighs and lift her until she’s pinned between him and the glass. Here, he considers as Sloane tightens her legs around his waist, as she swipes her tongue at his bottom lip, encouraging him to open up to her for a deeper kiss -- here is where he should say those three little words, stitch them all together into a coherent phrase. Not a half-assed admission after watching her nearly be pulled to her death, or a terrified mantra in a nightmare as her eyes dull and her hand loosens in his.

But now -- now she’s biting at his lip and writhing against him, her breath hot on his skin and it’s all too much to consider anything else but having her. Gripping his cock, he lines himself up at her entrance and drives into her. His hips roll up into hers, pleasure coursing through him as she meets his thrusts, her sweat-slicked thighs clenching around him.

In all his dreams, he’s forced to let go -- he holds on for dear life, now -- now that she’s here and real and begging him to fuck her.

Just beyond the door, they can hear the rain. It draws closer; that soft, gentle hiss drumming against the sand and then the deck and then the glass. The steady noise of it acts as a buffer between them and the rest of the world. The beach and the bay, their worries and their responsibilities -- all of it dulls to a distant blur, leaving only the two of them.

“Sloane,” he calls out her name with a groan.

“I’m here,” she tells him, without him ever realizing it was a question he needed answered until then. “Oh, god, Ethan -- I’m…”

“Come for me,” he hisses, meeting her for another bruising kiss.

Her breathing stutters for a moment, then -- fireworks, explosions, an entire galactic collapse plays out in her heavy-lidded eyes. The feeling of her is too much -- she’s a cocktail of pleasure and adrenaline straight to his heart, leaving him breathless and dizzy as he follows her over the edge.

Gathering her close, Ethan carries her over to the bed and crawls in to rest beside her. She rolls to lay against his chest, one leg draped over his. His breath hitches when Sloane drops a kiss to his chest, right over where his heart pounds.

He opens his mouth to tell her.

“Sloane, I--”

“Oh, shit,” she says suddenly, lifting off his chest to turn her concerned gaze to the patio door. “I left my coffee out there.”

It’s the unexpectedness of it (and the fact that she cut off his admission of love to her to bemoan the loss of her beverage) that draws a chuckle out of him that she joins in on.

“I’ll buy you another when we go into town later for lunch.” He seals the deal with a kiss. “Much, much later,” he amends as he cups her bare bottom. Sloane works herself closer to deepen their kiss.

“What were you going to say, before I interrupted?”

Ethan drags in a breath and swallows back every insecurity-laced deflection that his brain immediately concocts.

“That I love you.”

“Oh.” This time, he gets to see that smile of hers bloom across her face. “I love you, too.”

And outside, the rain beats steadily on.   

[agentbarton12]

Old People Teenager Watchers

A/N: gonna be completely honest and tell you that i forgot i hadnt finished posting this. like, its been done and ive writen it but i completely fogot i had to post it. anyway, here you go!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

—

the invitation — 6

Teenagers, in Tony's opinion, are the strangest breed of people. He’s pretty sure when he hired one, he was not hiring their mood swings, rebellious tendencies and relationship problems as well, but, it seems “you can’t get one without the other” or something dumb like that.

Tony liked to believe that over the last three odd years, he had gotten better at handling teenagers, but apparently not.

Truly, he was too old for this. He needed to fill in his formal Teenage Babysitter Resignation forms and hand them in to the board of Old People Teenager Watchers (“Parents, Tones. They’re called parents.”).

When Steve told Tony what that idiot Peter was thinking of doing, Tony's knee-jerk reaction was to say no. But then he thought about it and sighed.

A heavy sigh.

Not because he was worried, or because he thought it was a bad idea, no, Tony was apprehensive because it would work. Like, it really would. And Tony knew that the only way it would, was if he helped.

And then he sighed again.

Despite this, Tony agreed to help because he thought he should. He thought Peter was on to something and he really needed a reason not to be mad at him anymore. Nearly everyone had gotten over Peter’s idiocy, if only because MJ did, and had moved past it. Tony tried to, but he couldn’t because Peter kept looking at MJ like the sun and the moon shone out of her eyes.

It was disgusting.

And endearing.

But mainly the first one.

The only problem with this staring was that Peter seemed unaware he was doing it. He had convinced himself that he liked Gwen and not MJ and now, refused to admit that he was being dumb.

Okay, okay, he used to refuse to admit that he was being dumb.

Because this was the whole reason of the plan. After an eye-opening conversation with literally ever woman in Peter’s life (Pepper, May, Nat, Wanda, Laura, Shuri, Hope, Jane, Darcy, Carol, Valkyrie, Okoye, Christine, hell, even those Guardians touched down on Earth for a while to give him advice), he spoke with Gwen who, surprisingly wasn’t upset at all. No, no, she was not. In fact, she came up with most of the logistics of the plan. Tony actually took a liking to her eventually. After he got past the fact that Peter claimed to like her, she turned out to be a really nice girl, and if MJ didn’t exist, he wouldn’t mind Peter dating her.

But, MJ did exist and now Tony had been tasked with the impossible feat of getting MJ to the tower. It was impossible because no one — not even Pepper on a bad day — could get her to do something she didn’t want to do. And since it was seven o’clock on a Thursday night, Tony knew she wouldn’t want to leave her bed.

Emmjaaay

Emmmjaaayyy, hurry up and get to the tower!

It’s an emergency!

Ned’s in trouble!! Come nowww!!!ii

Emmjaay

[video attached] he looks fine to me

TonyMan

Uhh...

Emmjaaay

also you text like a child

also also im curious as to why youd lie to get me out of bed on a thursday, so ill be there

tell the babysitter to pick me up

TonyMan

Auto-correct, MJ.

Please.

The video was a screen recording of a Snapchat Story Ned posted. It showed him, Sam and Thor sitting on pool chairs with sunglasses on, and the caption was literally, Living the trouble-free life.

Tony really needed to make sure he and Ned were on the same page before he did something.

He was surprised when MJ agreed to come over, but decided not to think too much about it and sent Happy to pick her up. He complied, grumpily, but complied nonetheless.

He told everyone of the success of his mission, but instead of being greeted with thankful hearts, everyone started running around trying to get everything in order, which just confused Tony because as far as he was concerned, the plan was just get MJ to the Tower so Peter could do whatever it was he was going to do. There was literally no reason for everyone to act like they were planning a wedding.

When MJ arrived, Peter took her up to the roof and everybody, like, everybody ran up to the common room and asked FRIDAY for the security footage on the roof with sound.

The Avengers and Avengers Children sat around and on the couch for a clear view of the holographic screen that was being projected up. They could see them standing on the roof. MJ, once again, was not wearing her own clothes and had put on a sweater she stole from Bruce and basketball shorts that could’ve either been Sam’s, Peter’s or Thor's. Her back was to Peter and Tony could feel how much he wanted to reach out and hug her.

“So, did you bring me out here to murder me or for the view?” MJ asked not turning back to look at Peter.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a killer view,” he responded, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

She turned to him slightly. “That was so achingly lame, my dad turned over groaning in his grave.”

He chuckled nervously. “Peter Parker: Dad Joke Extraordinaire,” he tipped an imaginary hat.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, before looking away. “Idiot.” Peter just smiled at her back and looked at for far longer than what was deemed ’friendly’.

“Oh, god,” Sam groaned.

“This is gonna take way longer if he keeps doing that,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his beard in frustration.

They stopped their mutterings when Peter spoke. “I am. An idiot. I am an idiot.” MJ gave him the slightest of gazes, before training her eyes on the skyline in front of her. “A huge one,” he went on, “for not telling you I love you too.”

The eyes of the Avengers widened and Thor choked on his Pop Tart. Tony remembered that they never really got an explanation for MJ's behavior all those weeks ago and this is the first time they’re hearing this.

“I'm sorry, but when did MJ tell him that she loves him? How did I miss this? Why did no one tell me this?” Wanda was rambling at this point and no one shushed her because she was voicing their thoughts. As if she had a revelation, she gasped and said, “Was it that night MJ — ?”

“ — Shh!” Natasha said, as MJ started speaking.

“Yeah, you did. Remember, when you then proceeded to ask Gwen out?” Peter gulped at the memory.

“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked the screen. The common room erupted in noise as everyone started yelling about how they needed to know things like these. Tony looked over at Gwen who was sitting on the floor and saw Ned put a reassuring arm on her shoulders.

Peter took a breath. “That’s what makes me an idiot. I should’ve told you before. Like, two-years-ago before. Because I’ve loved you for, like, ever, but me, being the idiot I am, didn’t realise it.

“I knew I liked you, but when Gwen came and I liked her, I thought that meant I liked her more, I guess. But, that night outside my room, I fell in love with you all over again, because you continued to put what you thought was what I wanted as your top priority. Even if it was hurting you.” Peter took a breath. The whole common room was on the edge of their seats and Tony was pretty sure that Bucky had gotten FRIDAY to Skype it to Wakanda where Shuri and her brother were no doubt watching.

“The past few weeks have sucked so much because I realised just how much I adored you. Like, sometimes it gets physically painful to breathe whenever I think about you and Tony has told me so many times how disgusting it is when I look at you like you’re the only person in the world. And I’m trying, MJ, but, honestly, I still haven’t figured out how sit across from you and not be madly in love you with everything you do.

“This is more an apology than anything else, because I hurt you and I was an idiot and you deserve better than that.”

“…I taught him that,” Sam said after a moment or two of utter silence in the common room.

“Shut. Up,” Clint said hitting him in the head.

“If that is true, Son of Wil, you did a mighty excellent job at teaching the Man of Spiders how to woo the ladies,” Thor said.

MJ looked at him for the first since his speech. “Now what?” Peter looked stunned. “I’m not about to jump into your arms because you said all that, because that’s some dumb, cliché romcom BS and I ain’t about that.”

“Yes, girl!” Shuri yelled from the other end of the call.

“And you hurt me. Like, a lot. Like, I was pretty sure that at some point, Scott was gonna kill you. But, I’m not going to stand here and say that I don’t love you either, because I’m not a liar. I do love you. But, I hate you too. So, this…thing, it’s moving at my pace, how I say it will, got that?”

Peter nodded mutely, a large grin slowly gracing his features. “You see all that cute poetry junk you just spewed a moment ago? Yeah, you should stop that. I might actually end up liking you.”

Peter grinned evilly. “Oh? So I probably shouldn’t tell you that you’re the last thing I think of before I close my eyes?”

“Smooth,” Clint said, nodding slightly. Thor silently gave Sam a fist bump.

MJ's eyes crinkled and her mouth twitched ever so slightly, an almost smile. “No,” she said, “you shouldn’t 'cause that’s just creepy.”

“I love you,” Peter said breathlessly.

“It’s like you want me to break up with you.”

Peter shrugged. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. “I love you,” he said again with her face inches away from his.

“Stop.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You know why? Because I do. I love you.” He looked her in the eye before turning away and yelling into the night, “I love Michelle Jones!”

She punched him in the arm. “Don’t make me regret hugging you.”

“But you’re not — ”

He was silenced by her crashing into him and he stood stunned for less than a second, before he wrapped his arms around her and he settled his head in the crook of her neck due to the height difference.

“YES!” the common room erupted into cheers as everyone, everyone stood up in excitement. Scott called Hope and told her everything. Clint, followed his lead and phoned Laura to update her on the newest development. Hugs were given and tears were shed.

They all decided to stick around just in case something…interesting happened and so they remained in the common room.

Tony thought he’d hang onto his position in the Old People Teenager Watchers Committee just a little longer.

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay in the common room watching us before they realise that we’re trolling them and aren’t planning on leaving until they do?” MJ asked Peter as they remained hugging on the roof.

“Dunno. They like snooping. Probably waiting for us to kiss or something.”

MJ stayed silent. Then, “We should have sex. Give them something to watch, y'know?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?”

Tony jumped up and told FRIDAY to connect him to the roof speakers. “You two get off that roof right now, or so help me I will ban you from looking at each other. Get down. Now.”

The last thing he heard from the two was MJ's cackling as they got off the roof. And the cackling of his fellow teammates.

Never mind, Tony was resigning.