#which could ruin the relaxing intent behind adding that to the list

[fictionadventurer]

Potential April Reading:

The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis

St. Francis of Assisi by G.K. Chesterton

A middle-grade book

A book of poetry

Something related to Theology of the Body

A classic novel (pre-1900)

Light early-twentieth-century (pre-1960) fiction

[hoe-doroki]

On the Job pt. 2

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, fuck or die sex pollen (which means there are noncon/dubcon elements), reader is a sex worker, masturbation, face fucking, temperature play, (light) pain play, biting

pairing: todoroki x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

summary: Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just the things of porn and fantasy–they’re actually quite common and too often fall into the wrong hands. Heroes, of course, do the best that they can, but when they get hit, they must be taken off the line of duty and someone needs to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be? Obviously, you.

a/n: Half of me didn’t actually think that I would follow up part one, but I feel a heavy obligation towards my fanfic promises so...this is a weight off my shoulders, lol.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You’d gotten the call early today.

Not early in the day—truth be told, you’d hardly known what time it was before picking up the phone. No, you got the call early. As in not last minute. The call saying that your client would have to be transported to the agency from on site and they could tell you the details in the meantime.

The call saying you’d better drive to the agency, because you had to service a hero in an hour.

Now, patience wasn’t usually your virtue of choice—actually you didn’t often tend towards virtues in general. Save perhaps for kindness, which you preferred to deal out on your knees or your back, augmented by praise and the generosity of offering all three of your holes for your clients’ needs. But you were happy to cultivate it today, because an early call meant one thing.

You knew who was coming today.

Your pants were already off and you shirt was pushed up over your breasts as you leisurely played with yourself. You’d licked the tips of your fingers and gotten them started with slow passes over your clit, the other hand pinching your nipple, just a little too hard in prep for a hero who’d probably give it to you rough.

Maybe your reaction wasn’t right. Maybe it wasn’t kind of you to be so relaxed—relaxed and eager, actually—over the news that it was possible that Pro Hero Shouto would die. That he’d been hit with the particularly high stakes brand of aphrodisiac quirk and that if you didn’t trigger the release condition—that was: hot and heavy sex—his heart may very well stop or whatever happened on the other side of these troublesome quirks.

You wouldn’t know. After all, you hadn’t lost a single client yet.

So perhaps that was cold of you. Perhaps it would be more virtuous for you to be worried about him, fretting on the other side of the door with the guards over his ETA.

Then again, as stated: you’d never been one for virtue. Sin was much more fun. And surely it was better to make sure that whenever Shouto did show up, you had a wet pussy that he could waste none of his precious time sinking his cock into.

You groaned at the thought, dipping two fingers from your clit into your cunt and scissoring them. Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed against that front wall the flats of your fingertips, feeling that soppy wetness covering you and beginning to drip down your knuckles.

Yeah, you were ready for him.

In fact, you’d been waiting for Shouto longer than just today. After nabbing the number two pro hero, Dynamight, a few months back, you’d gone ahead and debased yourself  further—how much further was there to go, though, really?—by creating a list of your dream clients. You’d written Dynamight just to check him off, the memory of him cumming in you raw and licking you clean still hot between your thighs.

Your near encyclopedic knowledge of heroes—naturally, you took a healthy interest in your job—had then led you to daydream about Dynamight’s whole hero cohort. You added Red Riot to the list, dreaming of his abs, imagining riding them, teasing sweet whines out of him before backing up and dropping yourself on his cock. You thought of Deku, what it would mean for your ego to nab the number one hero, the flash of jealousy that would rise on his face when you let it slip that you’d already fucked his biggest rival, fucked his goddamn brains out and yours to boot.

Of course, you couldn’t do that. NDAs, after all. You’d already signed away your rights to mentioning anything about what happened to or with Shouto today. Still, you could dream.

Then, of course, your thinking had truly devolved, and you’d thought about the boys being paired up, fighting a villain with an unknown quirk only to be hit by the ever common, ever unknown—thanks to you and your prudence; oops, there was another virtue—aphrodisiac quirk and having to take care of both of them. Spit-roassting, Eiffel Tower, a goddamn daisy chain—anything. Long story short, you’d ended up cumming twice more on your hands before the evening was done.

But also on that list, was Shouto Todoroki.

Who, if you weren’t mistaken, was now on the other side of the door.

After all, these walls weren’t soundproof. It provided quite the show for the lucky guards on the other side, but hey, if you needed to scream for help, they had to be there. By the same coin, you could hear the shuffling on the other side, the footsteps approaching, and the telltale sound of the lock on the door being activated. You pressed your legs together, resting them to the side, hiding your glistening pussy artfully with your legs for the sake of modesty. Everyone knew what was happening here, but you didn’t need to send Shouto’s poor handler back blushing to their colleagues.

Shouto was ushered into the room and, without eye contact, someone yelled to you, “Ready, ma’am?”

“Ready!” you called back, and the door was closed, leaving you alone with the number three hero.

Without modesty, your legs fell open, revealing the mess you’d already made of yourself to Shouto. You dipped the fingers you’d been using into your mouth, and cleaned them dutifully. After all Shouto was still wearing his costume, and you did so hate the agency having to send those to the cleaners with your fluids all over them.

“Hey, bud,” you purred, running a hand slowly up one thigh. “I heard you have a problem.”

Pro Hero Shouto was known for his stoic personality. News conferences and interviews he participated in always consisted of a slow, even tone, and little beyond cold facts. There was something pleasantly mysterious about that, sure, but it didn’t exactly hint that he’d be quick to jump into bed. Sexy voice, though.

But whatever quirk he’d been hit with must have been strong, because the next thing you knew, the index finger from his left hand was tracing down the front of his uniform, cleanly burning a line straight to his already tented crotch. His accessories had already been taken off—his belt, gloves, shoes, even the clasp at his neck had been undone earlier. So there was nothing in his way as he pulled either side of his scorched uniform to the side and off his arms as he approached the bed.

“All business, huh?” you asked, pushing yourself up off your pillows by your forearms, watching as Shouto climbed onto the bed on his knees, finally pulling his jumpsuit down past his crotch.

You’d taken a bet with yourself on the color of his pubes—it’s not like you’d be losing either way if you got to see them. They turned out to be dual-colored, but not the stark red and white of his hair. No, they were more neutral in tone, like yours. Unlike yours, they were nested above a heavy cock, already shining with precum—or actual cum, you didn’t know—at the head.

Shouto didn’t reply to your comment, and you weren’t surprised. Some people went totally nonverbal when hit by sex pollen quirks, and that was fine. You’d rather someone button their lip than ruin the mood by saying something off, after all. All business was fine by you—this was your job, after all. And no matter the size of his mouth, his cock was just fucking right.

You naturally lowered your legs as Shouto began kneeing over you, cock in hand. Your brain only just managed to catch up to what was going on when his legs stopped on either side of your ribs, his leaking cockhead crossing your eyes before you. Automatically, your jaw dropped open, and Shouto’s cock smeared pre against your cheek and the corner of your mouth before sinking deep into your mouth, drawing a first obscene moan out of him.

A humming moan fell out of you too, barely able to take in the taste of Shouto’s cock before it was pressing against the back of your throat, springing tears to your eyes automatically. Something about aphrodisiac quirks so often seemed to play with the taste of these heroes’ cum. No longer was it bitter, but just heady, salty, and more pleasant than it should have been as it coated your tongue and throat. You adored it, and purposefully relaxed your muscles so that you could take more of him in.

Shouto didn’t hold back. With barely half a breath in your lungs, Shouto was thrusting deep in the back of your throat so that your spit dripped from your mouth and smacked wetly between his balls and your chin. You blinked tears out of your eyes and looked up at him to find blown pupils staring back at you, gaze hot and pointed.

There was light behind those eyes. Whatever Shouto was right now, it wasn’t unthinking, not pure instinct. No, the way he was fucking your throat, the way his eyes had you pinned—it was intentional.

Abruptly, Shouto pulled out, a think strand of spit snapping from his dick, cold on your tongue as you panted from the rough treatment. You held your mouth open, expecting him to shove back in once you’d caught your breath, but Shouto seemed to have other plans. He moved down your body, soaked cock again in his palm, and his eyes now set on your pussy. You reached for one of the condoms you’d set out next to you, and held it in front of him.

“Hate to sound like an after-school special, but no glove…”

Shouto paused, eyeing you for just a moment before taking the square and making quick work of it, rolling it over himself.

Then, abruptly, he put a hand on your cheek, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Thank you for your hard work. It does not go unappreciated.”

“What the—”

You were left agog at his statement, wholly unprepared as he swiftly took each of your thighs in one hand, spread them, and plunged in you to the hilt. You gasped high in your chest, your throat still tender from being rawed by Shouto’s dick. He leaned over you, sighing with a relief that doubled then halved the size of his chest. His forehead touched yours in a strange moment of intimacy, and, for a moment, you wondered if that was it. Was that all the release condition took? Penetration? Or had he cum and you just hadn’t noticed?

Were you going to be left to tend to yourself with the bullet vibrator in your glove compartment yet again?

Then Shouto leaned back, looked at you again with those sharp eyes, and began smacking into you with abandon.

“Fuck,” you let out as Shouto’s balls, still wet with your spit, left their mark on your ass with every deep thrust he gave you.

Shouto manhandled your thighs, grabbing them firmly in each hand as he reared back fully on his knees again, taking the lower half of your body with him. You reflexively braced with your arms, and soon they were the only part of you still in contact with the bed, along with your upper back and head still resting on the comfortable stack of pillows.

As was often the case, you’d lost control of the situation. You could barely match Shouto’s thrusts on your own as he repeatedly used his upper body strength to bring you to him, and his lower body strength to send his hips right back in return. If you tried to reach him, your fingertips would barely brush his thighs, much less any other part of him. You were totally at his mercy.

You couldn’t help but eyeball his broad biceps, flexed by holding up the weight of most of your body. And aside from the sweat dripping from his forehead—probably quirk-induced—he was showing little to no strain.

He hadn’t always had muscles like this, you were sure. You couldn’t help but remember pundits sounding off on Shouto’s overreliance on his quirk over physical strength, or the difference between his body and the massive tank that was his father, Endeavor. They’d shown clips of his body—handsome, always handsome—but either Shouto had done a lot of bulking in the last few years or those newscasters had been particularly unkind. Likely both. Because now, drops of sweat were trickling from his body in rivulets; there were no straight paths to go down. A bulging muscle here to dip around, the crease from a flexed ab there to pool in. You were hypnotized by his form, even the thighs straining under the part of his uniform that he hadn’t bothered to burn off.

Your mind was so enraptured by thoughts of Shouto’s body that the sensations happening to yours crept up on you. All at once, you realized that your thighs were burning. Actually, one was burning, and the other was freezing cold, both just under his palms and branching up the fingers currently painting five bruises into each muscle.

A gasp flew out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back as your thighs suddenly began quaking unbidden. Shouto looked down at you, his expression easy save for those passionate eyes, little huffs escaping his slack jaw. “Too much?” he asked.

Your head shook side to side, a vehement no as Shouto dug his fingers even deeper into your flesh, bringing dull throbs of pain so close to where every thrust brought about sharp flashes of pleasure. It felt like a betrayal when he just then loosened his grip to slide his hands up to your knees and hook them over his shoulder. Then those hands, right at the brink of freezing and searing pressed into the meat of your ass as he brought your hips to his with redoubled force.

That first new thrust sent Shouto’s head turning to the side, digging a painful bite into the fleshy part of your calf, making you cry out. A moment later, he let go, his tongue passing over the teeth marks like a salve over a wound.

All the dueling sensations had you close. You’d been teasing yourself for so long before Shouto had even shown up and now he was fucking into you like…well, like his life depended on it.

God, was it wrong to love fuck or die quirks?

You were quick to take a hand and put it back on your aching clit, despite the strain it put on your neck and upper back to lose one arm of support. Part of a good fucking was being folded like a pretzel, and you’d just book a massage appointment tomorrow to deal with it. Surely saving the life of the number three hero was worth a reward.

Shouto’s eyes honed in on your fingers moving rapidly over your clit, and you bet he could feel the twitches of your cunt approaching climax. A hand left your ass and went behind his head to pat your ankles. “Cross them,” he instructed.

Obediently, you crossed your ankles, making your position a bit sturdier as Shouto continued to drive you back onto him with one hand. Then that second hand went to yours, brushing it away with the backs of his knuckles. A surprisingly gentle gesture for the man who was kneading bruises into your ass and biting your leg. Then, with his thumb, he painted one slow, hard, blazing stripe up your clit, and you came instantly.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your back arched in midair, the crown of your head digging into the pillows as your neatly crossed ankles came undone, your thighs shaking and falling from Shouto’s grip. His cock slid out of you as your lower half bounced once on the bed. Before the springs could vault you back, Shouto was on top of you, pressing himself back in your still convulsing cunt.

His thrusts were long, desperate as he breathed into your neck. He mouthed the base of your neck with light bites and suckles—never quite kissing. Your thighs came back up around his hips and his left hand went back to squeezing your thigh. Meanwhile, the right came between your thighs, surprising you as two fingers began prodding at your entrance.

Almost immediately, you could feel the heat of the stretch. Or rather, you would have felt the heat of the stretch, had his fingers not been ice cold against you. You cried out as he curled his fingers forward while his cock kept thrusting straight through you, the hot and cold contrast nearly too much. You wondered how much more intense it would feel if Shouto were unbound by the condom, and you able to bear its full heat.

“Please,” you whimpered as your orgasm began to rise again, too quickly, nearly as sudden as the first one had been, but without all the build up. This one felt like it was going to tear out of you.

Just then, the nips that Shouto had been teasing over your neck went away, and he planted one more good bite on your shoulder as his thrusts became insistent, the fingers petting inside you matched with a cold thumb over your clit. And neither of you could hold on a moment longer.

Shouto groaned low and bone deep in your ear while your voice, still raspy from early, keened in his. Your thighs went tight around his waist and his hand was trapped between you as you both rode out your highs. It took a full minute for your muscles to unwind, and your feet to fall flat to the bed. At that point, Shouto pulled out and rolled over next to you, both of you panting as the sweat dried on your skin.

Shouto pulled the condom off of himself and found a trashcan to toss it into before falling flat on his back again. After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he opened his mouth. “Thank you for your professionalism.”

You snorted. “You’re welcome,” you managed, keeping your laughter at bay. “That’s not what people usually thank me for.”

“Thank you for saving my life?” Shouto tried again, his gaze shifting over to you.

His eyes were still bright, but his gaze less sharp, obscured by dual-colored bangs falling over it. Suddenly, Shouto looked a great deal more innocent than the man who’d been fucking the life out of you just minutes ago. Perhaps an effect of the quirk wearing off, perhaps the effect of unfettered pleasure meeting relief.

“More common, yes,” you replied, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“You’re very good at what you do,” Shouto said, his eyes going to the spot where he’d bitten your shoulder. He circled it with one finger, brows furrowing. “You’re like a hero.”

“Hah,” you returned, looking up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to let this be the moment in your career that made you blush. “Vixen, the orgasm hero. I don’t think it would meet the commission’s guidelines.”

“Perhaps not,” Shouto said, sitting up and pulling up what remained of his costume, frowning at the spot where he’d torn it. You supposed you needn’t have worried about this costume going to the cleaners; the support team would likely toss it and make a replacement.

“There are clothes you can change into in the closet,” you said, pointing to the near invisible door in the back wall.

Shouto waved you away as he stood up. “This will be fine to make it to the locker room with.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you pushed yourself up, trying to remember where you’d thrown your leggings before you’d started jerking of, grunting as your spine cracked.

Shouto plucked the leggings from near the foot of the bed and tossed them to you before heading towards the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back and made eye contact with you one last time, the ghost of a smile you’d never seen before on his lips. “Thanks again…Vixen.”

As he closed the door, you could only blame your own impropriety, that utter lack of virtue that you first thought was:

Number two pro hero, Shouto: check.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Bloopers

Word count: 2150

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Ok, this one is a little different than the others I've written; it's about the actual cast (specifically our fav British actor Mr. Hiddleston 😉)

* * *

“And… cut! Alright, let’s move on to the next battle scene then.”

The voice of the director echoing through the set snapped you out of your thoughts. You stood up and stretched a little, preparing to film the first scene of the day that you’d be part of. Script in hand, you joined the other cast members on the set for the scene briefing.

It still felt surreal that you had actually gotten to this point. You had signed up for an audition the moment you’d heard this role was open, figuring you could at least get some exposure by trying out for a big-name movie like a Marvel movie. As an up-and-coming actress, you needed all the exposure you could get. Never in a million years did you think you’d actually land a part in the movie, let alone the role of a supporting character.

You were trying desperately to get over being star-struck by the actors and actresses you were working with. They were all surprisingly down-to-earth, nothing like you’d expected from such famous stars as these. The moment you’d arrived on set, they had welcomed you with open arms as they had all the cast members, no matter how small their role was. They’d been trying to get you to relax a little, to see them as friends and coworkers rather than A-list celebrities. And you were trying – really­ trying – but you were still pretty shy and reserved off-set.

“Ready for your first shoot of the day?” Chris Hemsworth asked as you approached the crowd of cast members standing in the middle of the set.

“Uh… yeah, I think so!” you replied uncertainly. You glanced down at the script in your hands. This particular scene didn’t have many lines, as it was mostly an action scene, but those were the scenes you tended to struggle with. You had gotten good at getting into character when you had to have conversations, but you really had to think hard about how your character would move in battle.

“Come on, you have to say it like you mean it!” he chided, grasping your shoulders in emphasis. “Try again – are you ready?”

“Yes sir!” you shouted. He laughed heartily, releasing you with a final pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, it may be a battle scene, but you aren’t a soldier. We’ll work on it.” The flowing crimson cape of his costume swished along the floor as he turned to find his place in the circle of cast members. You followed suit, slipping into an opening right beside Tom Hiddleston. He glanced at you with a warm smile, which you returned timidly.

“He can be a bit overenthusiastic sometimes, can’t he?” Tom whispered. You nodded, looking across to where Chris was now casually twirling his hammer by the strap on one finger. “He is right, though. I’m certain you’ll do just fine. Give yourself a little credit.”

“Thanks,” you said appreciatively. You turned to face the director as he reviewed the upcoming scene.

It was a pretty standard fight scene by Marvel standards. Your character was battling alongside Thor and Loki as the villain attempted to slip past your defenses to gain access to Odin’s vault of magic artifacts. Magic, explosions, weapon-swinging… the whole works. There were a complex number of camera angles included in the scene, which meant a lot of stopping and restarting of filming to change position.

Physically, this type of scene was exhausting. It required a lot of ducking, jumping, and running, not to mention a LOT of falling. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go home with a few scrapes and bruises after this type of active scene. Like Chris and Tom, you insisted on doing your own stunt work. It wasn’t like you were jumping from buildings or anything like that; you knew you could handle this yourself.

“Ok, next clip!” the director called out, prompting you to prepare for the most difficult part of the scene. In this part, your character is standing a bit too close to an explosion and is thrown backward into Loki, who catches you before you fall backward onto the ground. You stood still as the stunt crew hooked you up to the wire that would yank you backward.

“Nervous?” Tom asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“A little, maybe. Is it fun, being dragged around on the wire?” you inquired.

“It’s a bit like riding a roller coaster. Except… you’re not in a cart, and you may crash into things.”

“Hmm. Comforting.” He patted your shoulder firmly a couple of times before walking past you to get into position for the shot.

“Alright, y/n, we’re not going to count down for you – we need a genuine element of surprise in this scene. Got it?”

“Understood,” you confirmed. Your heart was racing with adrenaline, anticipating the moment you would feel the rope tug you backward. Not to mention, Tom was going to be the one to catch you. Your heart fluttered a bit more at that thought.

It felt like minutes went by, although it was probably only seconds. Suddenly you felt the harness under your costume tighten around your waist as the wire finally pulled you backward. True to character, your arms flailed out as your heels slid backward across the floor for a millisecond before Tom caught you, sliding his hands under your outstretched arms to hold you up.

The sudden gentle pressure of his fingertips under your arms tickled like hell. Your knees buckled a little and you yelped in surprise. Tom lowered you to the ground, giving you a moment to rest after your first take.

“The fall was perfect, y/n, but try not to bend your knees like that when Tom catches you. Remember, you’re supposed to be a fierce warrior; your character would jump right back up to their feet,” the director called from off set. You avoided Tom’s gaze as he helped you to regain your footing.

“Did I hurt you? You shouted when I caught you,” he asked, concern weighing in his tone.

“No! Nope, I’m fine, sorry. Just got nervous. First take and all, you know?” you responded quickly, trying to hide your blush.

“Understandable. I recall the first time I was pulled down to the floor by a wire during the infamous ‘Hulk smash’ scene…” he chuckled. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you.”

You set up for a second take, this time heart pounding for different reasons. How embarrassing would it be if Tom found out what really happened there? You needed to focus more this time.

This time, when the wire grew taught, you were at least prepared for the swooping sensation in your stomach as you slid backward. Once again, Tom caught you right on cue, his hands lifting your upper body up from under your arms. It still caught you off guard how much it tickled. You let a giggle slip out and went limp in his arms again, nearly causing him to drop you to the floor.

“Cut!” The director walked closer to you and Tom so you could hear him better. “Don’t forget – don’t bend your knees. And it’s probably breaking character to be grinning like that after getting launched by an explosion.”

“I know it’s fun doing stunts and all, but you have to think like your character even during the action scenes,” Tom advised, helping you up off the floor once again.

“It’s not that! I just… never mind,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burning again. Tom raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, ducking down to catch your gaze as you stared down at your feet.

“Promise. I’ll get it this time,” you assured.

You both set up for take three, this time determined you would get it completely right. You gritted your teeth, trying to envision the actual explosion they’d be adding with CGI later. The wire tugged, and you flew backward once again into Tom’s waiting arms. You almost maintained your composure, until he started to pull you to your feet, fingertips digging into the hollows under your arms. You shrieked, letting out a few more giggles as you stumbled forward to evade his fingers.

“Cut!” You steeled yourself and turned around to look at Tom, who was giving you a confused look. You shot him a look of apology.

“Am I missing a joke? Did Hemsworth put you up to something?” Tom asked, placing his hands on his hips, a grin tugging at his lips. Even after you ruined the take three times in a row, he only used the kindest tone with you. You couldn’t lie to him.

“No… I just… when you slide your hands under my arms to catch me, it… it sort of tickles. A lot,” you mumbled sheepishly. You risked a glance up from the floor to look at Tom, whose eyes had lit up with understanding.

“Ahh! Now it all makes sense!” he exclaimed. “Well, I do apologize; it was not my intention to tickle you. I’ll try not to this take.” He shot you a mischievous wink, not unlike his character.

“Thanks… I’ll try to keep my composure this time,” you promised.

The director shouted additional directions and reminders to you as you set up for yet another take. As you got into position, you turned your head to look at Tom standing behind you. He grinned at you, although you couldn’t tell if it was a smile of encouragement or a mischievous smirk. Maybe it was the costume…

The wire tugged you backwards once again, and the outcome was the same. Tom even tried to catch you closer to your upper arms, but the sensation was still too much for you to handle. A rapid stream of giggles bubbled from your chest as your muscles weakened once again. Tom was laughing with you this time, though, now that he knew better.

“You did that on purpose!!” you exclaimed, spinning around to face him once you’d regained your footing.

“On purpose!?” His mouth dropped open in mock offense. “You think I did that on purpose?? Come here, and I’ll show you ‘on purpose.’” You shrieked, spinning around to run away, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could get very far. He tugged you backwards, trapping you against him in a bear hug.

“Wait!! C-can’t we talk about this?” you begged.

“Sorry, no can do.” Before you could protest further, Tom’s fingers were digging into your ribs, eliciting a startled squeal from you. He laughed out loud at your overzealous reaction. “Mahaybe… eheh… maybe this will help you get all the giggles out, hmm?”

“No, Tom, wahahait!!” you begged, folding into yourself and twisting around to break his hold without success.

“I apologize, my dear, but this is for your own good. Can’t have you continuing to mess up these takes, now can we?” His fingers darted up and down your sides and ribs, and your knees buckled beneath you, sinking to the floor. Tom followed you down, still holding fast while he continued to skitter his fingertips over your belly.

“Stahahap!!” you pleaded, grasping feebly at his wrists as laughter poured out of you.

“Now, honestly, y/n – this is supposed to be a battle scene and you’re laughing like a schoolgirl,” he teased, wrestling to hold you still while he continued to torment you. “How are we going to get through this scene if you don’t start taking it seriously?”

“THEN STAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!” you retorted, yelping as his hands spidered higher up your ribcage.

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Tom wrapped one arm further around your ribs so he could pull your arms up, giving him unrestricted access under your arms. He scribbled maddeningly gently at the hollows, making you explode with uncontrollable laughter.

“OK! OK! IHIHI’LL GET IT RIGHT THIS TIHIHIME!!” you shouted. Deciding you’d had enough torture, Tom finally released you from his hold. You took a moment to catch your breath before looking up at your fellow castmates, who were smirking at you, much to your dismay. You felt heat rising to your face as you picked yourself up off the floor, turning to face a grinning Tom (who was looking more and more like Loki by the second with that mischievous gleam in his eye).

“Well then! I’ve had my fun for the day,” he announced casually.

“Thahat was so mean!” you groaned. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in a one-armed hug for a moment.

“You know you loved every second of it,” he teased.

“Shut up, you,” you muttered, pushing him away jokingly. The two of you got back into position to try the take again.

This time, you got it right. Because honestly, nothing could have been worse than the torment he’d just put you through. But, if you were being honest with yourself, he was right - you had loved every second of it.

[sanghyukstattoos]

SF9′s reaction: you comfort them when they are exhausted and upset

Characters: Sweet guys who could only appear in your dreams 

Word count: lmao

Genres: Fluff, smut, suggestive smut 

A/N: For more works like this one, click here

Hearing the front door open, you called out, ‘’Binnie?’‘, voice distinctly echoing in the walls of the hallway. They were ghostly practitioners because your husband did not answer back. Like you, he had just come back from work, his briefcase already tossed to the side and entering the storeroom turned jacket area, he hung his suit jacket. Unlike his morning attire, his shirt was crumpled from the sleeves to the back and the belt was quickly rounded, thrown into the basket of belts. 

You watched him sigh in overall discontent, chuckling at his need to just take a day off and relax. You excitedly stretched your limbs, setting down the numerous take-out fliers you had pulled out. Your eyebrows went up and your mouth puckered in question. Looking from side to side, you wondered, what is the rush?

He had not answered your call but upon seeing you, he lit up, quickly moving towards you as a rabbit would when it is cuddled and gave you a tiny, baby peck on the cheek. You smiled in delight, walking along with him as he asked, ‘’How was your day?’’. You hummed, stating that it was hectic yet good and he agreed with the former point. 

‘‘Mine was hectic too’‘ he pouted and you caught his attention with a gentle smile, taking him in your arms and giving him a hug. He settled into your arms, the tiredness looking familiar to you. You were sure that his head was hurting. His expression was similar to when he was in a fucked-out state- hazily staring at you through those beautiful half-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted as he gazed at you, but only this time he was dreaming. 

‘‘You know’‘ he whispered, leaning into your embrace. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his chest as he rested in the crook of your neck. He did not explain any further, choosing to rest in the silence of your comfort. ‘’We should have some wine.’’ he whispered, hugging you closely. ‘’Now?’’ you asked, purely curious. He agreed and you replied, ‘’How about after we do this?’’, motioning to the bath.

You found it evident that he was fatigued, saying, ‘‘Come with me, I’ll wash your hair’‘. He happily nodded, taking off the rest of his clothes and feeling the stickiness of the day escape him. He felt less stuffier now than when he first entered the house, smelling like the office he had worked in all day. His eyes reflected greediness as he stepped into the water, making you chuckle, pleased that he was looking more handsome than ever and in good shape. 

First on your list of things to do was to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him. Passionately, your lips settled onto his, lovingly holding him in place. He was enjoying it, gently gripping at your shirt. Although he had this innocent appearance to him, the strength and endurance he had in his ambition paralleled yours, one of the reasons why you had fallen in love with him. There was little lingering, yet feeling like you could be closer. 

Sometimes, you spent your lunch with him, overlooking the pretty white blossoms cornering your building. It crowded your view of the often busy street and sometimes went bald but in your office, you forsook the working relationship you had with him. Sharing your food, plotting the evasion of your higher-ups orders- How could you explain it? It was intimate, fiery and included a tingle of the senses. (Perhaps, all of the senses?)

You wanted to love him over and over again, like watching one episode after the other, late into the night. The two of you were intimately brought together, your feelings escalating when you made love on the bed, on the kitchen counter on a lazy morning or on the sofa while watching some boring movie, sometimes switching fast sex to casual. 

He leaned back, hands quickly motioning to you, ‘’Get in here please’’. You laughed aloud, excitement filling your system like blowing air into balloons at birthday parties. He breathed out a sigh of relief as your fingers tangled in his shampoo-filled hair, white, scrubby bits everywhere, some even floating in the air. 

He was relaxed, soothed by your touches before he started giggling and playing with the water, running his hands through it and smiling at the ripples that formed. ‘’Should I join you?’’ you teasingly pondering as he pouted at you, maybe thinking, get in here? Please?. Not caring whether you were ruining your clothes, you took them off with your soap covered hands and threw them in the basket. He admired your figure and the way it was enveloped by the warm water. 

He welcomed you with extended arms and you straddled him, comfortably settling on his lap. You could not choose what to liken his smile too. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pretending to be distracted because you were unable to to contain the heat that rose to your cheeks that in turn, rose with your smile. You wanted to give him some advice which got pushed back when he began to wander your body, delicately bathing your skin with warm water. 

You paused, purely curious as he rested a hand on your ass while you were brought close to him, his lips encasing yours in a touch that evoked a heated response from you. You rose with the kiss, unconsciously grinding your hips against his tip that brushed your inner thigh. You were taken back with his unexpected actions, very much enjoying the effects.

He parted your ass cheeks, arousal flooding to your sex as it was embedded within the two of you. Every time felt congruously new, like a passionate relish of red, plump apples or biting into a ripe mango, feeling the juice trickle into your mouth, encasing your tongue in something watery yet sugary. 

He left you little to the imagination: water spilt out of the tub, rippling with fast movements. You threw your head back, heavily breathing, both of you vicarious in the feeling of sounds. You let out soft cries of pleasure while he thrusted his hips up, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his member. He felt the smooth curve of your ass, grabbing it as he buried himself inside you, kissing every part of your body that was accessible to him as you held onto him, bouncing unrhythmically. 

He roamed your body, over and over again. You were lost right now, gasping, moaning, crying out in intimacy as you held onto the tub. You lifted your hip, and then in a quick, repeated motion, you met his own. You could feel him trail your legs as you got off him and faced the wall, hands slipping for grasp as he entered you from behind. He was pleased to end his day with you, to feel you around him, habiting his nearest surroundings. And for you words of advice, he was thankful too. 

Today had been rough. Inseong was swamped in how people were treating him, the intentions behind their behaviour ambiguous. So he found it vague to explain it to you or rather, find a label for it. He said that it was complicated and you understood, telling him that many things were hard to justify too, because it didn’t fit the category of direct and explainable. It was the small things that either added up or didn’t. 

Then came the pressure that followed such things. The embedded attitudes of people felt relentless. It was similar to an unjustified attack, tiring Seong out from daily routines and schedules. He had informed you of what was going on. When you asked him what his plans were, he simply shrugged, sighed and gave you a smile (keeping hopes up that it would go away). Some things did not go away unless you told them too. 

You couldn’t tell him to ‘let it pass’ or ‘ignore them’ because although it did not seem like it, those words were inconsiderate. Instead you told him to stand up for himself, in small ways, like their behaviour. You refused to see him hurt like this- partly defeated and showing easy acceptance of something that could be changed. You did your best to encourage him, lightly scolding him for keeping such a mindset in the first place. 

As he sat on the sofa, suit still on and laying exhausted in your arms, nestling into the comfort he found in you, you combed through his hair, wanting to ask him some questions. He mumbled his answers sleepily, not bothering to hide the truth from you, saying it plain and simple. As it should have been told from the start, you heard it, brainstorming of how to combat this. But both of you were equally worn out and so you accidently fell asleep in the living room, waking up hours later in each other’s arms. 

The next time, you had come home some hours after him, daylight fading into the distance but the blues had already set in, much earlier than you had thought. You remember entering the house and placing your shoes in the stand. You had placed your stuff in the bedroom, quickly changing into home clothes. All the while, the air was silent albeit the presence of Seong who had already texted you that he had reached home. 

You were happy to see him, having kissed him in a hurry to feel him on you unlike the first half of the day when you had so dearly missed him. After a good conversation, he downplayed the events in a deflating manner. The story was malicious and you did not appreciate their insincerity. They had treated him more roughly then before and it occurred to you that Inseong’s tunnel of vision had narrowed. In hope he thought that there wasn’t much for the future but you were infuriated upon hearing his story. 

You were still on for fighting back, not hitting the knees or lightly shoving. There was no sugar-coating, making the relay barren but you had wanted him to understand what you had meant. Instilling some fight into him, he had understood, swallowing your advice to find others that disagreed with this type of treatment. To find like-minded people and rid himself of his problem, once and for all. 

It wasn’t easy for him but in the coming weeks, you noticed a change- that he was happier than before. He was giddy and you reflected on previous memories, thinking that he had always managed to be happy, those people had just dampened it. Today, you sat with an unopened wine bottle, texting your friends till Inseong came home. And when he did, your phone was flung somewhere (so precious, hopefully on the sofa itself) and he took you into his arms, giving you a hug. 

You excitedly returned it back and the familiar thudding returned when you saw him smile, gummy version and lit eyes showing. Although he was tired, he was brimming with energy, agreeing to your proposition of wine and cookies. He rolled onto the sofa, throwing the covers over your thighs and leaning on your shoulders. His legs ached from the walk to get home as quick as possible but it felt worth it.

You gave him a peck, grinning as he cutely leaned in for more. The more you gave into him, the more you smiled from ear to ear. The screen of the television greeted your eyes in the bright light of the living room, heart beat steady as you embraced Seong. Bringing his hair back, you chuckled at his facial expressions that immediately relaxed, taking a sip of his wine in the process. ‘’That felt good’’ he commented, feeling the rumble of your chest as you laughed. 

‘‘Including your whole day? That sounds good’‘ you replied, cross-legged as you grabbed a cookie, Seong’s eyes tracing the crumbly deliciousness. Breaking a piece, you plopped it into Seong’s parted lips, smiling at his quick response to the melted chocolate. ‘‘It was and things are looking up’‘ he happily motioned, responded and you listened as he spoke more, entailing you to the details. You firstly felt happy, secondly thrilled that you had won, unanimously. 

You could hear someone distinctly coughing in another room, its nature echoing and reverberating and hence catching the attention of JaeYoon as well. He kept silent, not a peep from his mouth when the familiar pain affected his temples, lighting up like red lights around his eyes and cheeks, inciting him to desire a cough. 

You watched from your spot at the door, his back hunched and eyes monotonously staring at the screen. You flinched as you thought of the pain of staring into something that bright in a room so dark. As you leant against the door frame, you saw him harshly rub the pain away from his heavy eyes that would not open as far as they usually would. 

He looked like he was having trouble looking up, heavily exhaling as he tried to resist the pain. They grew stronger like the thudding sounds of boots against a wooden floor that by the second neared closer to you. 

He gets up from the table, his chair scraping against the floor as it is pushed back with sheer force of his anger, annoyance, irritation. It takes him less time than swinging a baseball bat to launch a last-minute defence than to grab the chair he sits on and fling it at the wall. He believes that no one around as he sighs, then shamefully picks it up and sits on it again, reflecting. 

You wondered what he was imagining, looking lost in thought. His cheeks turned red like the sunset, a gradient of embarrassment. What he was feeling was understood by his team members and although you were blameless, a part of your decision-making process pricked at your mind. It started to gnaw until you shooed it away, tricking you into thinking that his pain was influenced by you.

You were mindful of your perception of his situation, understanding that if you did not have the full details, you did not have the right to serve him harsh words either. There could have been more to what he had told you because he was an excellent soldier and knew how to weave tales to best fit his situation, even to his team leader. 

He knew now that you were at the door, shadow having shifted due to the movement of light. When he faced you, he settled his hair down, even though it already was- a habit he had when he was nervous. He yearned for your comfort like a hug or a few words of advice. It was not selfish of him for it was human desire and unable to breach the relationship he had with you, he settled for your praise whilst watching you from afar. 

Under your gaze, he felt nervous but his thoughts overcame him because he felt hardened to the fact that he could not change the past and knew still, that it was useless to ponder over such things. As you scanned his form, the anger he felt was irreplaceable and you felt that you could not soothe him, yet. For the kind of person that he was, you knew that he would pull through. 

You made your move to give him time, giving him one last look as you turned back and walked away. Hours later, he must have been calm, rationally thinking of the situation when you saw him in the swimming pool on the roof. Leaning against the wall, he put his phone down upon seeing you enter. You said nothing, his eyes wide and suggesting something that could not be put into a sentence. You expected him not to question and he did not, waiting for you to speak first.

As you slipped into the water, a line of goosebumps trailed your leg yet you entered without flinching, letting a wave of water swallow your body. You were engulfed and while basking in the liquid, you moved towards him, coming together for camellias and carnations presently unknown.

Warm sunlight and the mindless singing of birds filled the air like filling water into a jug. You paddled towards him, watching him stand up straight, eyes never moving below your jaw. He waited and waited till you came to him, till your face was as close to him as two threads sewn one after the other. His system was frozen, back against the wall, water still, only small ripples forming as you moved towards him. 

‘‘We can’t let someone know about this’‘ you mumbled, regretfully looking at his confused eyes. His lips were parted in question, words barely coming out as he shook his head in agreement. Unconsciously moving closer to you, you smiled, exclaiming, ‘‘Should I show you the place where everyone goes to take a break without me knowing? And you too apparently’‘. 

‘‘Did I read that wrong? Or something? I thought-’‘ he asked, clearing his head and halting your movements when you began to walk away. You chuckled, replying, ‘‘Hold on-’‘. You disagreed as you continued, ‘’No, you didn’t. I just thought it would be better to be somewhere private than here.’‘. He came to the realisation pretty quickly, turning his opinion around at the open space for a lack of privacy or none thereof in the first place. 

As he followed you, it clicked to him and he didn’t stop himself from asking, ‘’There is a place where people go to relax?’’. You laughed, pointing to some place beneath the surface of land, carefully opening the door. You marvelled in amazement when it did open, exactly as you were told, your eyes meeting his affiliating gaze based on the way you smiled in wonder. Reflective, you looked around, laughing as you caught each other turning at the same time. 

‘‘I don’t know why we haven’t been introduced to this place as yet’‘ you stated, seeing a glint of something shiny in the background. 

‘‘I agree and shouldn’t you know about this? Given where it is’‘ he motioned, pleasantly unsurprised, figuring that you had your own place to relax. As he bent down to crawl you responded, ‘’If anyone, I might be the last to know’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you at how true it was. 

The entrance was wide, allowing you to swim without hitting the sides. Lights lit the sides and you were met with a staircase, droplets cascading down your wet clothes as you stepped out of the water. Neither of you bothered to comment on the spiral staircase or the enormous dry room, filled with private corners of games, food and drinks. 

You stared at with mouths agape until Jaeyoon broke the silence. After finding a place to change into fresh clothes, you met him at the massage chairs, twined in a corner that gave you a view of the doors. ‘’Here’’ you handed him a beer bottle, asking him, ‘’Aren’t you going to switch it on?’’, looking around for a button. He shook his head, popping open the cap between the bend of his arm and taking a sip from it. 

Well, you thought, Jaeyoon’s attention turning to the buzzing machine as you relaxed, sighing in content. He was bewildered, asking, ‘’You turned it on?’’ while trying to configure the buttons himself. You met his stare, trying to playfully kick him, exclaiming, ‘’Stop staring at me, turn it on!’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you as he slipped into the darkness of the massager. You were caught in the trap of the machine, its gentle massages turning sinister. 

Your bottles were left empty handed as you felt the soothing motions of the machine. The place was appropriately sized for a team of eight people and two people had managed to occupy a small corner of it. You smiled, thinking of the room itself, trying to enjoy yourself in the moment without thinking of anything else. Meanwhile, Jaeyoon was drifting off, pleasantly lost in the idea of starting something new with you.

Sanghyuk leant on his elbow, propped up by the pillow, peering at you with ambiguous eyes. You merely hummed at his offer and a small smile tugged at your lips. This proposition of his always stood, no matter the circumstance. You thought that there was nothing for you to lose but you were wrong. And so you shrugged, tossing the covers aside and getting in beside him. 

There was a gap in between, obvious that he was treading the waters carefully. You laid next to him, not touching his arm or leg, perhaps expecting him to pull you towards him. The gap was evident, but only to the both of you. He lingered next to your fingers and you interlocked it, turning on your side as you asked, ‘‘Are you worried about something?’‘

Strands of hair flopped on his forehead as he nodded, taking in a deep breath. In doing so, he swallowed his stress and looked at you. He flashbacked to your features, expressions, mannerisms, recounting them one by one. Your breath hitched as he grasped your waist, pulling you closer till your body was touching his. 

There it was. He did not say anything, evident that he didn’t have a reason to be with you today. Unlike his usual line providing you an explanation, he chose to forgo one this time. And he didn’t need to. There had been another fall today at work but he didn’t particularly care about it. Not until he heard you say in that tone of voice, ‘’It’s all the same, it doesn’t matter’’ with that look in your eyes.

It was as if you didn’t know each other that well, that you hadn’t been sleeping with each other all this time. Like he had once heard, there is an emotional component to sex. All he had done then was nod, but then began his doubts and he wanted to know if it was true. 

If you reciprocated his feelings. You cleared your throat, removing the strands of hair from his face. ‘’Say something’’ you murmured, and he only replied by caressing your cheek and bringing you closer to him. He wanted your lips, to feel you on every part of his body and for you to pull him close and hold him and tell him how much of a good boy he was for you. 

‘‘You look like you’re in a different place today’‘ you continued and he decided that he would tell you. His heart began racing and he got nervous, shifting his line of sight to the ceiling. You sighed in frustration, leaning a distance away from him, removing his hand from yours. 

There was no rule that you couldn’t like each other, you were adults and you could sort this out as it happened. But you hadn’t known why you did not speak about it all this time. You had purposely thrown him off these days, either by telling him that you were busy and you couldn’t meet up with him or that you just were not available. And like that, what was in sight was out of mind. 

But it hurt you. To see the look on his face was painful and you could remember crying about it once. But whatever your reason was, you wanted to settle this. 

Your friend could not understand why you wanted to turn Sanghyuk down. She was in disbelief over his physique and how sweet of a guy he was and the fact that the two of you got along very well. She was proud of you for finding someone whose intentions were good, inside and out. ‘’You need to say something Sanghyuk’’ you said, reaching out for his hand. 

‘‘I’m not sure how to-’‘ he started, waving his hands in the air. But he pulled you, planting his lips on yours. And you did this thing with swinging around on your decisions. You gave in, kissing him back. It was pretty, sure, because you had kissed many times. This time, there was a confession leaning over your head and Sanghyuk did not anticipate the fact that you would accept. 

You needed to think about it. ‘’Please stop thinking so hard. Tell me. I just want to tell you that I like you. You want to say, ‘’Although, I like you too, it’s complicated’’.’’. It was a gold-mine worth of information which shouldn’t have been worth its value. As you leaned back and told him, he listened and just when you had finished he groaned out a ‘’come here’’ and pulled you into his arms. 

In three moments, he told you some statements that began to mean so much more than some cheesy lines written on a paper. Perhaps, when those lines were written, the writer had empathised with the person and then understood the deeper meaning of those lines. You realised that you hadn’t read the text properly, skimping over it. But now, you gasped in awareness, his softness and gentleness bringing tears to your eyes. 

He wiped them away, pressing a kiss to each cheek. The two of you laid there in the peacefulness of being in each other’s arms, the threads of your relationships being folded by beautifully intricate knots. When the last hours of the week had arrived, Sanghyuk was so exhausted that he fell asleep in your arms. You had been watching tv as he sat there, persistently asking to eat you out. 

You had narrowed your eyes but you then as you looked at him, you remember caving in. The yes was fairly quick. He also moved quickly onto his knees, clearing telling you, ‘’Thank you’’ before he took off your bottoms, propping your knees on his shoulders. You had tugged his hair, making him go faster as your eyes absent-mindedly trailed to his messy nose and mouth. 

You had told him how much of a mess he was making and when you asked him if he liked it, he proceeded to giggle. He ate you out multiple times, ignoring the ache of sitting on his calf muscles and only focused on you. You cleaned yourself up, making a mental note to return the favour, in another way as you tucked him into the sofa, throwing your leg over him and falling asleep like a baby. 

'’Are you feeling okay?’’ you asked your boyfriend, whose sighing was aimless, less than distinct the fatality of the sound of giving up. He was constantly running his hands through his hair. However, to take the hair out of his face he was met with the bright sunlight that the open curtains let through, shining almost everywhere apart from you. 

You were barely covered by the warmth of the high-numbered tog cover. Each part of your body was warming up, leaving with something of an uncomfortable feeling. Seokwoo was rehearsing lines in his head, too many thoughts swarming, not permitting him to concentrate. He was unaware that you were watching him, almost losing him to a daydream. 

Attention on him when he discarded his slippers, you pulled the covers over him as he settled into your side. He grumbled nonsense words that made you chuckle, lovingly caressing his cheek, losing your grasp as he smiled. You smiled back, nestling into the warmth of his arms, throwing an arm over him and kissing each eye that blinked in wondersome, secretly glowing with love too.

He laid on his back so that you were on top of him and hence, earned a giggle from you. Looking at you, he softly spoke, not vague in his indication of what he was speaking about, ‘’You know how I’ve been working all these days?’’. It was unfair, that so many people in his profession had to deal with a distinct loss of sleep and fatigue.

You hummed, encouraging him with a nod, understanding that it was building up and today, he couldn’t seem to make it work with what he had in front of him. ‘’I can’t do it- No, I can but I’m too tired right now’’ he continued, heaviness not allowing him to continue. 

As he told you the details in a soft, whispery voice and light-heartedly neutral tone, you felt a deep sense of sadness overcome you. You wanted to help him so you told him many things. There was a story of your own work, wrapping the details with a snapping recovery from previously stimulated events. All the while, he listened carefully, not saying a word, occasionally asking a question or too. The latter especially made you smile as you carded your fingers through his hair, laying your head on his chest while speaking to him.

‘‘It won’t be the defining moment of your life, ever. It always feels like it in the moment but when you pass it, you won’t look behind. And when you do, it will be because you have already encountered something so difficult. ’‘ you spoke, peeking at him humming in agreement. ‘‘How much longer do you think you’ll need on it?’‘ you asked and he sighed, lost in contemplation over the calculation of the number of days he would need for this. 

You chuckled, grasping his fingers and softly nestling against his cheek, bringing him back to reality. ‘’Should we do something instead? Maybe you can take a break for a little while?’‘ you questioned, thoughts already forming in your head. He lit up at this idea, giving one last look to the work on his desk before you tugged him along to the kitchen. 

‘‘It’s good for you, you know. Like it’s good to get out and do stuff’‘ you said with a laugh, flailing your hands arounds to try and get him to understand that you wanted him to cook. You held back your laughter as he stood there with an apron on, utensil tilted at an angle, egg almost about to be whisked and an unamused expression adorning his handsome face. 

He had not thought that he would be the one to cook! The pearly whites of your teeth showed as he looked up, sighed, collecting himself while standing in front of the counter, holding in his laughter as he heard yours float the room. He shook his head stating, ‘‘You are so sneaky? When did you even put this on me?’‘ he laughingly questioned, motioning with an open mouth of feeling startled towards the apron that he had no idea how- landed on him. 

You whole-heartedly shrugged, smiling as you grabbed a handful of chocolate cereal, dipping them one by one in Nutella. ‘’Give me some’’ he salivated, opening his mouth as you filled it. He gladly received them, moaning in delight, instantly savouring the double-sweetness of the snack. 

His cheeks moving in cute, little circles as he crunched, flipping the sizzling pancake. Leaning back, he cleared his hair from his face and you admired his bare face. ‘’More’’ he said, bringing you out of your day-dream. You were watching the way he moved, licking his lips as you asked, ‘’Should we add some Nutella to the pancakes?’’.

He excitedly nodded, saying, ‘’And some bananas and that, what is it?’’, leaving you mid-state as you collected the ripe ones, peeling them open and slicing the softness. You began guessing, ‘’Caramel?’’ to which he replied, ‘’Similar!’’. You were suspicious, adding, ‘’Are you just going along with the first thing I say?’’.

‘‘No’‘ he stated, laughing, even more so when you said, ‘‘Yea, honestly, I can’t think of anything else. What do we have in the house?’‘. The pancake almost burned before you pointed to it and in a hurry he turned it over. The both of you sighed in relief because it could be eaten. It hadn’t been too far gone for it to meet the trash. 

‘‘The thing that people drizzle on their- oh! maple syrup!’‘ he exclaimed and it clicked in your head, saying, ‘‘That! Where is it?’‘. He threw his head back, holding back a playful groan, replying, ‘‘I don’t know. I have never tasted it’‘.

‘‘It’s been in our house for decades though’‘

‘’Don’t play. How did it taste?’’

‘‘I thought that it would really sweet you know?’‘

‘‘Uh-huh, like when they drizzle too much and the whole thing is just-’‘ he expressed distastefully with his mouth.

‘’Yea! But it wasn’t. It was kinda sweet and I ended up having some more’’

‘’What did you have it with’’

‘’Bananas and buttered bread’’ and he agreed, salivating in delight.

What a cutie, you thought, getting off your seat to pinch his cheeks and make cooing noises at him, then wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his side. When you looked up at him, he leaned to give you a kiss, beautifully wholesome and restrained, warm breaths exchanging as he comfortably moved against your lips, hands mid-air but lips softly pressing against yours. The pancakes sizzled, crisping around the edges as you softly moaned into the kiss, the thumping of your heart ever present in your ears. 

Almost as far as he could grasp the situation, he was also having trouble. The trouble to walk as he would occasionally stumble, he tried not to make a habit of it. He was sweating, mini droplets of blood splattered over the right side of his hair and face. 

He chuckled, muttering an incomprehensible set of words as he looked down at his right leg. It was bleeding, viciously. The blood was seeping from out of the wound and staining his trousers and he could feel it. He could feel its pain, jolting out his dream-like state when a car honked. 

He was surprised because it wasn’t that loud as compared to other cars. The sound was almost muffled and he smiled, clutching his leg as he continued walking. He shook his head, clearing his mind when he realised that he was supposed to be catching the suspect. 

Adrenaline flew through body, almost faltering but he wouldn’t give up. Sweat greatly stained his hair, dampening it to stick to his forehead. He stumbled, catching the corner of a wall to steady himself, and then he moved on. He walked and walked, not giving up and finally, the perpetrator was in sight. 

He weakly called out for you to stop. You had just taken a rough turn and although your muscles ached, you needed to keep going. The faint rustling of the detective’s steps and voices could be heard. You ran and ran, the distinct voices of cry ringing through your mind. 

You did not hear Zuho at first. He reached out for you in the darkness of the night, lightbulbs then collided with a huge trash can. The noise echoed and you jumped back, struggling to get yourself in the blind spots of the cameras that lined the alley. 

Breathing heavily, you glared at the figure that was crouched. You only figured that it was someone drunk or high, until the headlight lit up. You were taken back, your system freezing as you viewed the fatigued face of Zuho. Through the ups and downs of your career that had been impacted by the fall of various democratic powers, the two of you joined the resistance. 

In its early stages, when there were hardly many people, you slowly climbed the ranks, proving yourself to be an asset to the growing group. Zuho, on the other hand, remained close by, not desiring to engage in the ranks of the resistance. Instead, you kept your status as his mentor, teaching him how to hone his skills. 

He looked after the house that the two of you owned, taking on the role of domestic duties till you came home from work and made love to him. When the resistance wanted to utilise all their people to the best of their abilities, he gladly took on the role of househusband, even if they did not have a job opening for him.  

‘‘Shit’‘ you muttered, walking back to Zuho. The bells rang louder, the closer you approached Zuho. His lieutenant’s badge shone in gold and you crouched, desperately telling him, ‘‘I can’t take you back. They will find out about you’‘. He moaned in pain and when you pushed back his hair, you were overcome with the need to kiss him. 

You pulled yourself back, watching from the corner of your eyes about the detectives and in that moment, he collapsed. His weight gave way and with a thud, he hit the floor. You decided not to let him die on this floor. You adamantly shouted into your receiver, ‘’Help me!’’. You heard the footsteps rush behind you, pulling you off the floor and pushing you in the direction of the car. 

As you looked back, you saw them in a co-ordinated manner pick him up. Getting into your cars, you drove away, your colleague looking back at the soldiers who were scrambling to treat Zuho. ‘’This will fuck our plans’’ he muttered, holding back tears at Zuho’s state. You weakly chuckled, eyes dropping but you fought to stay awake saying, ‘’We will see from here on out’’. 

Handling businesses on the ground made you realise that your group had more power than you thought. The workers of the law were corrupt, not all of them though. Some of them fought against these dirty workers and while some slipped into the greediness of money, some held on, even if their hands were burned off. The pain that rotted the city was terrible and you were sure that you had not seen the worst of it.   

You were received by medics of a nearby camp and you woke up, shortly before the completion of two whole days. When you woke up, you reported to your boss first, then searched for Zuho. You walked the place by yourself, not wanting to answer any questions. Although, it was nice to know that people still cared for you even after your undercover disappearance for the last six months. 

You smiled, pausing when you saw Zuho laying on the bed, saline attached to his right hand vein and catheter hanging on the other side. You showed your badge to the cards and the barcode right above your right hand elbow. As soon as they verified both, you almost slowed down, tracing the board that held his information. 

You did your best to hold back your tears, repeatedly blinking, walking and turning around. Clearing your throat, you stood up and shook your shoulders in a motion that was similar to shaking the weight off. You sat back down, leaning on Zuho’s shoulder and grasping his hand, you softly squeezed. The last of your relief washed over you and you desperately wanted the feeling to come back. 

It felt good and after so long, you knew that your battles had only just begun. You had made a mistake by bringing him here. But it was either that or he would have died by the time they had gotten him to a hospital past the civilian areas. Zuho woke up, seeing your form peaceful. He was overwhelmed, mouth dry and a groan escaped his lips causing your head to snap up. 

You handed him a glass of water, his thirst as a result of the injection he had been given. You smiled, reaching over to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘’Should I just stay with you?’’ he groggily asked, gently squeezing your hand when you smiled, placing another gentle kiss to his cheek. ‘’You should stay’’ you commented, having already chosen a plan with your commander. 

It included Zuho and all you needed was his approval on his part. You pressed the button on the control and you kicked your shoes off, joining him. ‘’I was worried about you all the time, you know.’’ you spoke, breaking the peaceful silence. He had been stationed not far from you but you could never see him. Such meetings were prohibited. At the end of every three weeks, you did meet and bask in each other’s warmth in your provided house. 

But once every twenty-one days was not enough. He always wanted to be with you but there was the risk of your jobs clashing and interfering with your work plans. ‘’I was worried about you too. It was hard not to’’ he replied, nudging your cheek with his nose. He wanted to reunite with you right now, squeezing your arm as he slid down to your waist. 

You connected your lips, running through his soft hair, grasping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Your bodies touched, the warmness exchanging in your own space. You put a hand on his chest, smiling as you leaned back, whispering in his ear, ‘’ We can’t, you have a catheter on’’. 

Only for this context was it a moment of finality and his ears almost burned when he groaned, kissing you and leaning back, throwing his head back on the pillow. Your laughs mingled and you patted his better leg, getting off the bed. ‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, eyes curiously wide and hand reaching for your presence. 

You hummed, a bounce in your step as you said, ‘’I’ll go get some food for us’’. He nodded, pausing when you spoke up once again, ‘’I was just thinking of how to pleasure you. Think about it while I’m gone.’’, patting the wall as you left. Upon hearing you, he groaned,  letting out a small cry. The catheter was the least of his problems because it was the wound that would take most time to heal. 

He smiled at your words, looking at the direction in which you left, thinking, what a person. However, he was filled with an even bigger sense of determination. He would live and see this problem to its end. And then he would buy a house with you and have kids. He could see himself eating the food he cooked and watching tv with them all day, smiling into his dream. Your relationship was never founded from this war anyways. 

It was never torn apart because of it and you always stood by each other’s side. He decided that he would fight beside you, taking your guidance and training himself for the final war to come. He imagined a gun in his hand, pulling the trigger over the perpetrators of violence against the civilians he had spent months building trust with. 

Taeyang came home bone-tired. His shoulders ached, joints unnecessarily struggling. There was a familiar tiredness in his body, radiating throughout. It seeped into whole wavelengths and he was sure that you noticed it. And it was hard not to as he mumbled something incoherent, resting his head on your shoulder, sighing as he inhaled the smell of home. 

Secure was the feeling that surrounded him, the one he realised was the most important after being in this industry for so long. So normal were some things that many didn’t even notice how invading it was. He found that it came from his members, his family and you. To get home after a long day and not be all alone in the house. It was the knowing that saved him from rolling his eyes and falling asleep on the floor. 

You awed, snuggling into him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, hearing him whisper, ‘’I’m too tired, we should go to sleep’’. His stomach garbled, empty from hours of burning and burning, tirelessly or passionately, easy to understand that he had some sort of fire raging within him. All that fire was laying low now, needing fuel to rage. You chuckled, grasping his hand as you asked, ‘’How was your day?’’, leading him to the kitchen. 

He nodded, giving you a thumbs up and slumping on the table. You turned around in surprise as he whined a little, telling you belatedly, ‘’There are too many things to do. I have to shower, wash up, eat and then sleep. It’s like there is a never-ending list of things to do.’’. You cracked up at his statement, drawing some chuckles from him too.

‘‘I’m just saying, you know.’‘ he said as you placed noodles in front of him. The smell was enough to wake him up as he perked up, drooping eyes being set aside. ‘’I ate, you go ahead.’’ you said, motioning to his food. 

‘’What time did you get home?’’ he asked in between bites.

‘‘Afternoon’‘

‘‘Was it tiring? How was it?’‘, he questioned, slurping the noodles.

You hummed, nodding, ‘’Tiring and we did the best that we could. Anyways, I don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon. So, at the office-’’.

Twirling the noodles around, he listened to your story, commenting, ‘’You did it because you thought it was best. The important thing is that now they know. They don’t have questions and stuff.’’ 

You agreed, ‘’They don’t have questions and they aren’t confused’’, continuing, ‘’The competition is tough, you must be stressed no?’’

‘‘You know what I’m worried about. Although it is the same old, even if we manage to get something out of this, I will be proud’‘.

You wowed, replying, ‘’You should always be proud of your team. It’s not easy wanting something. When your own standards haven’t been met for a long period of time, you don’t realise that you’ve been trying to achieve even the littlest of things.’’

He was silent at your statement, inquisitive to your words, gears turning in his head. ‘’Between the both of us, it will be stronger if it comes from you. Aim higher, this is the real-world so be careful of what you want.’’

‘‘Fair enough, not everyone gets what they want’‘ he hummed, washing his bowl. 

Shifting to the bed, he joined you after his shower, bouncing on the mattress with a sigh of content. Like a child receiving their favourite toy, he smiled upon meeting the comforter, its warmth hugging him. You held him to your chest and he snuggled right in, lulling to the way you carded your fingers through his hair.

The night was pleasant, enough for him to kick the covers off, speaking to you with closed eyes, ‘’This competition will keep me awake forever’’. He chuckled, continuing, ‘’I’m buzzing right now’’. 

You lolled, ‘’Buzzing? You did the most activity around today and you are still awake? That’s remarkable’’. The comment drew Taeyang to open his eyes who gently poked your side, chuckling as he commented himself, ‘’Are you asleep?’’. You hummed, throwing your leg over him and asking, ‘’What do you want?’’. 

He lay awake, pondering over your question and you literally peeled open your eyes to tell him, ‘’Sleep Tae, nothing bad will happen. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.’’. He turned around at your statement, bringing you closer to him. You were safely tucked away in your fiancé’s arms and the two of you slept until late dawn, only stumbling in the kitchen for some lunch.               

He groaned, over and over again. Ever since he had laid down to sleep, he felt nauseous, its grip vice in his stomach and throat. He tossed back and forth, side to side, changing positions to comfort himself. He was alarmed at the sensitivity of his body, aware that something was wrong, but was unable to discern till the last moment that he would vomit. 

He released the gruesome contents into the bucket he had prepared mid-struggle. He was scared. He did not want to experience the same thing again. The pain in his throat was like stinging, but from the inside. It was like something had clawed through, letting the marks fester. He kept wondering why this was, it had never happened to him before.

He grasped his head, the pain causing him to fall back onto the bed and close his eyes. Till the pain had passed, he did not move an inch, holding still. The pain faded away and after laying down some more, he picked up his heavy bones and made his way to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

He called out to you in the darkness, cautiously entering to find you. For the type of person you were, he knew that you’d take action immediately, questions later but he didn’t think that mattered. It was more about the fact that he loved you and felt comfortable in your arms. 

He knew that it would be a heavy confession for you, if he ever got around to telling you about it. His feelings about you were big and complex, especially when he was unaware of how you felt about him. You were dead asleep, softly snoring but when a specific word like ‘’Noona?’’ floated in your head, your eyebrows furrowed and you wondered if you were really dreaming. 

Waking up with a jolt, you groggily asked him, ‘’Are you okay?’’, reaching out for him in the darkness. He shook his head and you pulled him to sit on the bed, him telling you in reply, ‘’I puked’’.

You awed, pulling him in for a hug. He looked so adorable as he said it, a small pout adorning his face, cheeks probably pink and cutely looking at you. He looked small in this moment and you couldn’t help but bring him into your arms, comfortingly running your hands through his hair while whispering soothing words of praise. 

You also could not help pouting yourself, deep sadness spreading within you as you thought of him in pain, thinking, poor baby. ‘’I should-’’, ‘’Huh?’’ overlapped as he quickly got up, starting to regret his decision to come here. You grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the bed. ‘’You can sleep here’’ you motioned, separating your pillows to give him one.  

You got into the covers, leaving half the bed for him. He opened his mouth in question and you rested on your elbow, telling him, ‘’If you aren’t comfortable enough, you can go back. Trust me, I won’t mind. It’s all the same to me’’. You cleared your throat, laying back down, regretting your last set of words. He got into the bed, thinking at the same time, Alright, it’s all the same. 

After resting for a couple of seconds, you turned around, saying, ‘’I lied, it’s not the same to me’’. He hummed, snapping his head to you, taken aback by your taking back. Exposing his beautiful gummy smile in the near darkness, he replied, ‘’Just to be clear, I feel the same way about you’’. It was shorter than he had anticipated because you had given a response he had not thought would happen.

‘‘What’s on your mind?’‘ you asked and through some small words, it became a better conversation. He elaborated himself and under the softness of the light, you curled up into each other. You snuggled in each other’s warmth, some peacefulness filling this hectic lives of yours. You pressed a kiss to his temple as he slept like a baby, keeping a close eye on his condition throughout the night. 

Chani was asleep, amongst the fluffy covers that enveloped his frame from head to toe. Snuggled with an air of warmth around him, insulating him from the slight cold of the autumn breeze, he softly snored in the midst. The clock of his sleep was ticking for almost ten hours now and so peacefully did he look as he slept that you let him be. 

After running from pillar to post and staying up for filming, he was undeniably exhausted. His eyes would not open, heavy in their mood and feeling almost like tape held them together. Prying them open, he groaned, catching your attention. The refusal of his eyes were utmost and so he shut them and laid back down, comforting himself on the pillows. You moved from your desk to the bed and you laid a hand on his chest, softly calling out, ‘’Baby?’’. 

Hearing no response, you leant over him, giving him a kiss and gently shaking him. You repeatedly whispered your nickname for him, hiding your head in the crook of his neck and snuggling into the warm space. You chuckled as he hazily groaned, words indistinct to your ears, laying a hand on your waist. 

You had just finished completing your report, thinking nonsense vacation dreams to yourself of the things you could do if you had time off for the next few days. ‘‘I’m up’‘ he noted, pulling his eyelids open regardless of how much they hurt. When he found clarity, he switched your positions so that he was facing you. ‘’Go back to sleep but I just wanted to know if you were okay.’’ you stated, placing another soft kiss to his jawline. 

His cheeks were puffed from having just woken up and he looked adorable. If you had told him that he would have asked, ‘’Why?’’ and tossed his head back and forth in playful frustration. Even then you would have found him cute. You tucked a stray hair back into the softness, admiring his sleepy form, eyes barely staying open as he lingered over you. 

‘’I won’t go back to sleep’’ he murmured, making you chuckle, knowing that sooner or later he would lay on his back again and doze into another world. He shook himself awake as you replied, ‘’It looks like you need sleep though’’ causing him to roll his eyes. He hummed, throwing a leg over you and nestling into your neck, probably still in the state where he felt as if he was dreaming. 

You kissed his neck, peppering a trail of light kisses in the same area, combing through his hair. He could feel the touch of your lips leave a trace of warmth on every spot, gently urging him to wake up. After a couple of minutes, Chani inquisitively asked, ‘’How long was I asleep for?’’ startled at the answer you gave him. He poked his head out from the crook of your neck, staring at you with open eyes as he registered the double-digit number.

‘‘I had work to do...’‘ he said, trailing off. After two seconds of debating, he plopped back into your warmth, deciding that he could do it later. Lightly pushing his shoulder emitted a groan from him, one that resembled ache. Plopping on his back, your giggle turned into concern as you asked him, ‘‘Are you feeling okay?’‘. 

‘‘My back hurts, and legs too.’‘ he nodded, playing with strands of your hair. You hummed, asking, ‘‘Do you want me to give me you an oil massage?’’. He perked up at the idea, graciously kissing you and telling you that he would return the favour.

As he sat on the bed, you admired his toned back. Squirting a bit of oil onto your palm, you rubbed your palms together and at the first touch, he relaxed. You brought both your thumbs together, rubbing in circles and squeezing the ache from his muscles. 

He moaned in delight, hands on knees as he lost himself in the pleasure. It was like the pain was evaporating from his overworked muscles. You chuckled at his noises, his soft whines escaping when you touched a particular part in the middle of his back. When you were done, you grasped his face and kissed him passionately. 

His hands wandered around your waist, tugging at the hem of your top. You giggled in delight, breaking away from the kiss, meeting his eyes. He grabbed your legs that had been straddling his waist and leaning back from planting another kiss onto your neck, he asked you, ‘’Should I do you?’’. 

You squealed as he tossed you on the bed, motioning to your top and as you took it off, he began his lustful descent, starting by him dragging the whole thing out, leaving you in beautiful shambles. 

[angryschnauzer]

Stuck

Summary: You are August Walkers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament August takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, however no reference to Daddy kink. 

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Read the Steve Rogers version of this story HERE

Stuck

 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

 “Good afternoon Mr Walker”

 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the pentagon and the agents and staff that worked there. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Mr Walker’s apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 

 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

 You nodded;

 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”

 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 

 Mr Walker both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a tank top and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 

 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that Mr Walker thankfully had good aim. Finally it was time for the shower, and as you pulled open the glass door and looked down you let out a shriek; the largest spider you’d ever seen sat in the corner. Grabbing the handled loofah you crept a little closer, letting out a laugh when you saw it wasn’t in fact an arachnid; instead it was a clump of dark hair;

 “Well, the man does have a lot of hair” you muttered to no-one but yourself, thinking about how his chest was covered in a mat of soft hair, exposed in the low neck of his running tank. 

 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Mr Walkers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking German Shepherd. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

 Mr Walkers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining Mr Walker fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that moustache felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Mr Walker…

 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

 -

 Five minutes ago.

 August sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once the agency had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 

 August Walker had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. August Walker was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 

 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

 -

 “Mr Walker!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 

 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”

 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 

 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 

 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 

 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

 “Excited, are we?”

 “Please Mr Walker…”

 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

 “Please fuck me”

 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

 “Please…”

 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”

 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 

 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 

 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 

 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

 “Mr Walker!”

 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

 “No… no…”

 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 

 -

 August wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 

 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 

 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 

 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… CIA… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

 Turning you nodded;

 “Yes Mr Walker”

 “Oh, you can call me Sir now” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

 -

 In the hallway August watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

Part 2 >>>

[babyybitchhh]

This is the anon who commented about yami! I didn't like nozel at first but I can't lie, he kinda grew on me and he's fine asf. I couldn't look at magna in anyway until I saw him with his hair down. Now I'm like 👀👀👀. More than anything, I just want yami to ruin me. Spank me and call me a good girl pleaseee

Yessssssss

Yami was BUILT to be daddy. So strong, so rough around the edges but with a big soft heart, so beefy 💗🥴💗

Words: 3937

Warnings: daddy kink, alcohol, drunk fingering, vaginal fingering 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172960

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You probably should have known better than to start drinking with them. No, not probably. You definitely should have known better.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty though, and you could see now just how grievous a mistake it had been to accept Vanessa’s invitation without stopping long enough to consider the consequences but, well ... she was one of the only other women in the squad and she seemed to like you well enough. You wanted her to keep liking you, of course. So you’d foolishly jumped at the chance, far too eager to be included in this decidedly unorthodox team bonding exercise of theirs.

The Black Bulls were, by nature, sufficiently rowdy enough on their own but adding alcohol to the mix only seemed to fan the flames. They were the very definition of unruly. Clothes had been shamelessly discarded, more cigarettes smoked than you would have thought possible, arguments over nothing at all turned heated with alarming frequency only to be immediately forgotten and you, you were stuck in the middle of it. Thoroughly lost in your own world and floating serenely through the hazy bog of consciousness without a second thought to what chaos was going on around you.

It was kind of nice, actually. Liberating.

“Remember, ya’ gotta’ have at least three matching pairs to discard,” Magna reminds the assembled party as he quickly deals out a fresh hand. “Or you can do the same suit if ya’ want, but it has to go in order. No incomplete sets.”

The worse for wear table everyone had initially gathered around started off cramped, a tight fit for so many people and with little elbow room to spare. As the night wore on, however, most of the plucky squadron had gradually called it quits and retired until eventually only four remained. You were proud of yourself for outlasting the others but you also knew just how in over your head you were with this particular group. Yami could likely drink anyone under the table and Magna appeared to keep up with him just fine. While Vanessa didn’t exactly hold her liquor well , she could certainly put it away. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were on your last leg here even if you were, for all intents and purposes, having a good time.

“Alright, lets see what ya’ got.”

Feeling simultaneously as light as a feather and sluggish under the weight of heavy, invisible chains, you slowly flip your cards over. It was hard to tell which way was up anymore, especially when your inner vertigo was so off kilter. You were warm, too. Almost unbearably so. Clammy in the worst possible way and you teeter forward in your chair, struggling to focus your swimming vision on the cards spread out in front of you.

It was a shit hand.

Grumbling under your breath, you distractedly tug at your clothes. A soft, fitful whine claws its way up your throat when it does absolutely nothing to alleviate just how stiflingly hot you are and, in fact, only seems to make it worse. You were absolutely burning up and this card game was its own special brand of torture, you decide with nothing short of woozy contempt.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Yami asks mildly from his spot beside you.

He was infuriatingly collected despite having consumed even more alcohol than you had, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful while you’d taken your time sipping on the fruity concoctions Vanessa made special just for you. You’d lost track of how many cups he’d emptied quite some time ago but you were still only on your third. It didn’t make sense. How were you so damn tipsy already?

“Hot.” You groan, not bothering to look up from what was possibly the worst hand you could have been dealt. Letting Magna shuffle the deck was, unsurprisingly, yet another mistake to add to the ever growing list.

Turning his head, Yami glances over at you and you catch the movement from your peripheral but still refuse to divert your attention from the cards. Maybe if you just stared at them long enough, hard enough, they’d morph into something you could actually use. You weren’t a magic knight in name only, right? Surely your grimoire was good for something .

“You’re drunk.” He suddenly announces, loud enough to make Vanessa whip her head around.

“M’not.” You grumble.

“Bullshit.”

The inebriated witch inserts herself into the fray before you can respond, wrapping slender arms around your shoulders and pulling you in against her bosom. “Awww, honey! Did’ju really like my drinks that much?” She coos at you sweetly. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you drunk. Promise.”

“M’not drunk.” You insist, louder this time, much to Vanessa’s giggling amusement.

Heaving a clipped sigh, Yami leans across the table and taps your cards with a thick finger, slowly drawing your attention back to them. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” He says around the cigarette in his mouth. “But someone who isn’t piss drunk would probably know better than to lay their hand out on the table like this. Do you even know what game we’re playing right now?”

Mouth tugging into a frown, you wrack your muddled brain for the answer to that question. “Go fish?”

Magna inelegantly snorts at that. You can feel yourself starting to flush in embarrassment as Vanessa begins fussing over you, softly petting your head with murmured, nonsensical endearments. She definitely wasn’t helping matters and you sincerely hoped none of them could see your fluster.

Yami doesn’t seem to miss it though and he purses his lips, pinning you with an unimpressed glower. “That’s what I thought. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re officially cut off. No more booze tonight, okay?”

Both you and Vanessa groan in unison. Your head immediately starts to spin in earnest now and you slump against the other woman even as she grabs your drink and holds it up to you as if she were bottle feeding a baby. The notion that she might accidentally dump it all over your head when she was just as intoxicated as you doesn’t even cross your mind and you obediently open your mouth to accept her offering.

“Come on, captain! At least let her finish her dr-drink first! I worked really hard to -”

Yami cuts across her babbling with a huff, standing and grabbing hold of the cup so he can pull it away despite Vanessa’s best attempt to keep it in her fumbling grasp. You watch it go, feeling an odd mix of disappointment and relief. The giddy, jovial mood you’d been imbued with was nice, yes, but realistically your body probably couldn’t handle much more. It was likely for the best.

“Just knock it off.” Pointedly setting the drink down towards the center of the table, Yami turns back with a furrowed brow. “Are you trying to kill her or something? What all did you even put in that?”

Vanessa hums a noncommittal sound of guilt, winding a strand of your hair around her finger.

He scoffs and moves closer with an accompanying shake of his head. Your heart gives a little jolt when you realize he’s coming towards you, not Vanessa, and you can’t help the anxious tinge that sparks in your chest. He was probably mad at you for getting so drunk. He looked mad. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures though and you lean further into the softly swaying witch next to you in search of protection.

Much to your faltering surprise, however, Yami’s tone sounds closer to exacerbated than angry when he says, “Alright, brat. C’mere. You get to sit with me for the rest of the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure someone doesn’t try to sneak you anything else.”

You blink, thoroughly confused, and it feels like even something as simple as a muscle twitch takes a small eternity to accomplish. Yami either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care though.

Shooing Vanessa away, he bends at the waist and curls big hands under your armpits, hauling you straight up out of your seat. You outright squawk, flailing weakly in Yami’s grasp when you suddenly find yourself much further from the ground than you were used to. But your panic lasts only a terrifyingly brief moment and you relax when he draws you close, allowing you to curl your limbs around his thick frame. With a slight jostle, he adjusts his hold and secures you to the front of him. You instinctively nuzzle further into his arms, drunkenly whimpering as you tightly lock your elbows behind his neck.

“You’re no fun …” Vanessa whines on your behalf.

He clicks his tongue. “I’m thinking ahead. You’re not.” He says, those rumbled words reverberating inside your skull and further grounding you by some margin. “But if she gets sick, you’re the one who’s gonna’ clean it up.”

With that admonition, he moves back to his own chair and sits down again. It takes you a moment to get situated on his lap, still unbearably hot and fussy now after forcibly being removed from the fun. The last thing you want is to look like a lightweight in front of your teammates but he finally stills you with a large, mindful hand against your lower back. The silent warning in that innocuous gesture is enough to make you quit while you’re still ahead and, mewling something unintelligible, you press your warm face into his neck so you can settle in to pout.

Magna says something then, successfully distracting Vanessa from the subject, and the game carries on without you. The three of them don’t seem to mind the loss one bit as they seamlessly pick right back up where they’d left off.

It's hard to shake the feeling that your presence at the table was nothing more than an afterthought to them, or maybe a simple nicety, and it stung a little. There was no denying that. But you were much too hazy and disoriented to linger on it for more than a moment, molding yourself to the firm weight against you and going pleasantly slack in Yami’s arms. He was surprisingly comfortable, given his hard physique. A little too warm for your liking when you already felt swelteringly hot, but ultimately comfortable.

The even rise and fall of his broad chest is almost enough to lull you into dozing off right then and there with your head resting on his shoulder. Yami’s rough fingers tracing nonsensical, soothing patterns across your spine is the only thing that keeps you tethered to reality and you sit there, eyes closed, just listening to the slurred conversation going on at your back. It sounded far away now. Muted, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you didn’t mind that too much. Magna was loud enough when sober and even worse when he was drunk.

A long moment later, Yami removes the cigarette from his lips and turns towards you when the other two start bickering about the validity of a certain card sequence. “How you feeling, squirt?” He asks, pressing his mouth against your hair.

“Good.” You murmur dreamily.

He laughs, very quietly, and gives you the briefest squeeze. “Yeah? You’re deadweight, baby girl. Sure you’re not gonna’ pass out on me over there?”

“Mmhmm.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Yami focuses back in on the game. The hand resting on your back slips lower, inconspicuously giving your behind a playful tweak that seems to go unnoticed by the table's other occupants given that they keep talking without pause. Magna would more than likely look away, politely pretending he hadn’t seen it, but Vanessa … if she’d caught so much as a glimpse, you’d be hearing about it right now. That was at least one reason (of which there was many) why what you had with Yami, whatever it was, still remained a secret to the rest of the squad even though it was probably a miracle they hadn’t caught on already, especially when he was so damn handsy with you.

Normally you’d err on the side of caution for that reason alone but you felt just daring enough to give him little push back. Emboldened by the liquid courage sitting hot and heavy in your stomach, confident that he wouldn’t have initiated this had it not been safe to do so, you discreetly roll your hips into him. The drag of your pussy across the front of his pants makes your breath hitch and he stiffens underneath you. That’s all the reaction you get for your trouble though, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder and lean close to Yami’s ear.

“ Daddy …”

It’s nothing more than a tiny, breathless sigh but the effect it has on him is instantly noticeable. Steel chorded arm tightening around you, he breathes out a terse exhale and pulls you more firmly against his chest until you can scarcely breathe. A wavering puff of air slips from you as your thighs flex around his waist, silently trying to urge him on. It doesn’t work though and a shudder works its way down the length of your spine when he turns towards you again, growling right against the outer shell of your ear.

“Watch it.”

You whine, bucking against him more insistently. “ Nooooo .”

Yami snorts and swivels his attention back around to the cards clasped in his other hand. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you take a deep breath until the naturally heady scent of him swarms your senses like a fragrant, masculine cocktail. You can taste him in the back of your throat and it just makes you want him all the more.

Another wiggle of your hips is all the incentive he needs, calloused fingers slipping further down to grab a pinching handful of your ass. Roughly nudging you to sit a bit higher up on his thighs, he reaches lower and snakes his hand under your skirt. You squirm at the first touch against your panties, whimpering softly into his skin. Yami merely tightens his arm around you as he ever so carefully pulls the thin layer of cotton aside just enough to slide those sinfully long digits past the flimsy barrier.

“Spoiled brat,” He murmurs fondly, just loud enough for you to hear. “Already so damp and needy for me.”

You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself quiet, shuddering when he casually traces the length of your slit with abrasive fingertips.

Magna abruptly cackles about something and the sudden noise makes you jolt. Yami, to his credit, remains perfectly still though and merely waits a torturously long beat before continuing in rumbling hushed tones. “How long were you sitting over there in your own mess, hmm?”

“I - it’s not a mess.” You warble into his shoulder, your cheeks flushing hot.

“Oh? This certainly feels like a mess to me …” Pausing, Yami dips a finger into the meat of your labia and the slick quality of your pussy suddenly makes itself known. You hadn’t noticed until now, either because you were too caught up in your inebriated stupor or simply too focused on pouting to pay it any mind, but you were absolutely soaked. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Your body always responded eagerly to being manhandled by the captain but even this seemed a bit excessive.

Whining low in your throat, you decide you don’t want to play this game after all and try to angle your defenseless little cunt away from his searching hand. But Yami puts a stop to that quickly enough and shifts his legs further apart, forcibly spreading your thighs until you can’t find the leverage needed to wriggle out of his hold. You lip quivers when he takes advantage of this vulnerable position to worm a finger into the tight, squeezing heat of your body, gummy walls contracting around the intrusion with a pleasant flutter. It takes everything you have not to throw your head back and unabashedly moan up at the ceiling.

“Can’t you feel that, baby? You’re so wet I didn’t even have to work you open.”

Hiccuping, you shove your face against Yami’s neck again. “Dah - daddy … please .”

“Shh.” He warns even as he starts up a slow pace, sedately pumping into you. “Keep quiet or I’ll have to stop.”

As if on cue, Vanessa says something to him then and Yami effortlessly diverts his attention to the slurring witch as if nothing about the situation were out of place. You dig your nails into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades and bite back a groan, suddenly feeling ten times hotter than before. Even with all your concentration focused on keeping as still and quiet as possible, you find yourself imperceptibly arching to give him better access to your sticky cunt. It was certainly a blessing in disguise that she was just as drunk as you were, otherwise she might have given the whole thing a second thought. The way you were sitting on his lap. The smallest twitch of your hips to accompany the shallow quality of your breathing. It was so obvious what you two were doing. How had they not noticed already?

The table.

Neither Magna or Vanessa could see over it unless they came around and stood right next to the chair. You were essentially safe from the waist down and a fresh spark of confidence alights throughout your whole system with this realization, doubling and then tripling your arousal. It was still risky doing something so brazen right in front of them but you were just drunk enough not to care.

Loins twisting and curling, you carefully rear back to meet his shallow thrusts. You’d never felt more uninhibited in your whole life. “Oooh, daddy,” You whisper, choking on it. “Right there.”

Yami doesn’t miss a beat, easily keeping up with the conversation as he allows a second digit to slide in with the first. You feel the stretch in your bones and you quietly seeth, lashes fanning against the apples of your cheeks when it pushes you to just this side of discomfort. Even being as wet as you are, his fingers were just too thick for your eagerly clenching passage to accommodate them without some resistance and you hedonistically bask in the searing burn. It felt good. Almost good enough for you to lose yourself to the pleasure but, somehow, you manage to keep your wits about you instead of shamelessly writhing in his lap.

You may as well have thrown caution to the wind though. Discretion hardly mattered anymore. You already felt like a blatant little slut and the shock of how much that turns you on has your pussy drooling obscenely all over Yami’s hand.

“Hah - harder, daddy … nnghh, harder, please.”

Rather than obliging, he actually pauses his ministrations and you quietly mewl at the loss of friction. You squirm on top of his muscular thighs and desperately try to fuck down on his digits, panting like a bitch in heat against the captains neck. He shifts underneath you, says something to Vanessa that makes her direct a chiding tone at Magna. Their bickering starts up again and with the rise in volume, Yami gives his wrist a good twist that shoves his fingertips into your upper wall. Static electricity shoots through your system at the sudden pressure on that pulsing sweet spot and the tension in your gut immediately starts to toe the line of unbearable.

Your mouth drops open in shellshocked ecstasy but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to draw breath when the dizzyingly sharp jolt of arousal has your toes flexing uselessly in the air and you tremble, quaking in his arms. Unperturbed by the effect this is having on you, Yami takes his time caressing the velvety soft lining of your insides with sedately smooth motions. Those worn fingertips gradually curl up in the general direction of your belly button and press in deeper, harder, making your cunt absolutely gush around him. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“Oooh god !” You gasp, clutching him in a death grip.

Turning your head, you press your cheek against Yami’s shoulder and fix your gaze to a random spot on the far wall. The room looked like it was tilted on its axis - - spinning, spinning, spinning - - and all you can do is whine and shake when he scissors his fingers, making more room for himself within you.

You weren’t just overheated anymore. It was as if you’d caught flame, burning from the inside out, and it only gets worse when he flexes his hand, jabbing at the spongy soft spot again and again.

A choked off squeal rises in your throat, just barely held back by tightly clenched teeth. You’re almost positive you can hear the greedy, slopping clicks of your pussy sucking him in deeper just below the surface of the enthusiastic argument going on behind you but they don’t seem to notice. They just keep shouting back and forth at each other, oblivious to what was going on at the other end of the table. You have no idea how you’re getting away with this - aren’t even really sure if you will get away with this when all is said and done - but that’s the very last thing on your mind anymore as you haltingly roll your hips into the blinding pressure.

“Ah - ahh - d - dah - ahh - ddyyy !”

“Do it.” Yami murmurs, his mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Come now , baby. Do it while you have the chance. Come on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you give your pelvis one good little twist. The drag of your throbbing clit across the front of his rough pants is the last push you need, the resulting friction searing your veins. It sends you spiraling right over the edge into doped out bliss and you squeak, jerking against him when full bodied tremors grip you in earnest and make you shake.

Riding out the cresting waves as discreetly as you can, you blink back an onslaught of reflexive tears. Your pussy squeezes tight, milking your orgasm on his fingers, even though the effort of forcing yourself to remain quiet nearly breaks your resolve. But you manage, somehow, to breathe through it even as your hips weakly buck in unmitigated pleasure, subduedly twisting in his arms. It felt like you were drowning in it, choking on immense, all encompassing relief.

But Yami doesn’t immediately let up on his concerted attack, continuing to work you over until the spasms start to subside and you whine in frazzled distress. Digits finally stilling inside you, he offers a brief kiss to your hair and it makes you breathe out a tired sigh. You immediately slump, going boneless on top of him, now even clammier than when you’d started. The sweat clinging to your skin has you feeling worryingly damp but you were also satiated and comfortable. It was an acceptable tradeoff, as far as you were concerned.

“Such a good girl. You even managed to stay quiet for me. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling at the hushed approval in his tone, you snuggle further into Yami’s musclebound frame. You were floating on cloud nine, no longer concerned about being removed from the card game; not when the pleasant afterglow and the reassuring presence of your captain - your daddy - had you feeling so at peace. There would always be a next time.

[plussizeappreciationfics]

OS: Lost a friend

Idea by: My muse @ticklikeabomb​

Pairing: Chris Evans x Plus sized reader

Summary: You thought that Chris appreciated you, but you were wrong

Warning(s): crying

Word count:< 1,5k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

“Can I be honest for a second?”

Is what you heard while inhaling softly, gently closing the door to Chris’s apartment with a small smile resting on your face. Hearing his voice always eased your tensed body and sent a rush of tingles down your spine. You were happy that he was home while sneaking into his apartment. You just had gotten off work and decided to surprise him with his favorite snacks and a list of movies available on Netflix, ready to be watched.

 You turned around on the tip of your toes and swiftly looked around the actor’s apartment, realizing that his voice was coming from his bedroom, the door being wide open. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Dodger walk out of the bedroom, his tail wiggling in excitement once he saw you walking over to the living room area and dropping the bag of snacks on the small coffee table.

 “Hey Dodger!” you whispered while petting his head as he had rushed over to you, you loved that dog to pieces. The thought of being able to relax with him and Chris on the couch…and maybe finally having the courage to tell the actor about your romantic feelings for him made your stomach churn in excitement and a little discomfort. You’ve never mastered the art of confessing your love.

 You and Chris had been friends for a few years now, it didn’t take you long to fall in love with him. But the unfortunate part was that whenever you wanted to tell him how you felt, the actor got together with someone else. To have him gush about his girlfriends or crushes, pained your heart. It was always hard putting up a fake smile or pretending to be thrilled and excited for him while all you wanted to do was kiss him and show him that you were the one worthy of his love and affection.

 But that was unfortunately a dream that hadn’t come true, yet.

  “Let’s get comfortable” you mumbled to yourself while shaking your head, not wanting to dive into the memories of Chris gushing about the women he was in love and attracted to. He just had gotten out of a relationship, and still was mourning it a little. It was mean to admit that you were glad that him and his now ex didn’t work out as they were just too different from one another. The relationship was dysfunctional from the get go, but Chris didn’t want to let go due to the fact that his attraction just kept growing, despite the obvious red flags being present at every moment he spent with his ex-girlfriend.

 A soft sigh left your lips while you removed your jacket and dropped it on the couch, tiptoeing your way to Chris’s bedroom and ready to give him a good scare before trying to convince him to the movie evening you had planned ahead.

 Dodger was hot on your tail when you arrived at the actor’s bedroom, the door being wide open and seeing him sitting at the edge of the bed while facing the window, his back turned to you.

 “It’s just that, ugh” a frustrated sigh left his lips while his shoulders tensed up. Your stomach churned in discomfort as you had to stop yourself from rushing over to your crush and give him a soothing shoulder massage. He held his phone to his ear while running a hand through his hair, clearing his throat before continuing.

 “[Y/N] just has been so clingy lately and I don’t know how to tell her to cool it down. Like she’s always been this way since I met her but I really feel like she’s suffocating me…”

 Crack.

 That was the sound of your heart breaking in your chest, crumbling into tiny pieces while the soft smile that had been resting on your face slowly turned into upside down. Tears immediately filled your eyes and made your vision blurry while you tried to understand why Chris had said that about you.

 He let out another sigh, still not knowing about your presence before continuing to vent into his phone.

 “I think she needs to find herself a boyfriend, someone who would actually appreciate and enjoy her clinginess because I’m read to snap at her and tell her to leave me alone. I need space from her, bro”.

 You hadn’t realized that the tears already had cascaded down your cheeks while you cleared your throat and watched Chris jump and turn around, gasping before ending the call without a further word.

 He quickly got up and walked over to you, regret instantly washing over his face while he stared at yours that was drenched with salty tears. “[Y/N]…” was all he was able to whisper, feeling so bad that you had to hear him talk all this shit about you, and still being fucking oblivious to the reason why you were clingier than usual.

 “Save it” is all you croaked out, realizing that Chris didn’t deserve to know the truth about your feelings for him. He didn’t appreciate you as a friend so why the hell would he want you as his girlfriend? It was clear that the two of you weren’t bound to last as a couple, so with that sad realization, you turned around and rushed to the living room.

 “[Y/N], please wait!” Chris called out behind you but you shook your head and quickly got your jacket from the couch and then made your way to the front door, your heart aching heavily in your chest and your day ruined. You didn’t bother to look back at the actor while opening the door and leaving his apartment with a broken heart.

  ~~

  “She looks happy…” Chris muttered while staring at the recent picture you had posted on Instagram. It was of you and your boyfriend, Owen. The two of you had been dating for nine months and he was the best thing that had happened to you.

 The bright smile on your face could make the sun jealous for beaming so beautifully. You hadn’t bothered to add a caption to the picture of you and your love, you just had wanted to share your happiness with the world. And the world appreciated it deeply, only poor Chris was in his feelings.

 It had been a year since you had caught him talking trash about you and walk out of his apartment. He called you countless of times and left you many messages to which you never responded. He was confused to why you didn’t give him a chance to explain himself, the stupid bastard still couldn’t put two and two together and realize why his words had affected you so much.

 It was Scott who had to break the news to him and then watch in disappointment how Chris just sat there, confused as hell and in denial of what just had been told him. It actually took his a few days to swallow the huge pill and finally understand your behavior throughout your friendship.

 That only added more to the guilt he already was drowning in, but it increased his determination in reconciling with you and making sure that your feelings were being acknowledged.

 But things never went his way as you had cut him off and moved on, not wanting to ever be friends with the actor again. The pain he had inflicted to your heart had almost been impossible to get over, but you eventually did. And then you met your now boyfriend and his love and affection made you forget about the heartbreak.

 “Chris, just accept the fact that it’s over. You gotta let her go, man” Scott spoke while watching his brother frown down at the picture of you. He softly shook his head before taking a quick sip of his beer, tuning out the people and music at the bar they were currently at.

 “But I want her to know that I’m sorry” the actor sighed and closed his browser app, then quickly tapped on the messaging app and on your contact.

 “I’m sure she knows, but wasn’t in the right mindset to let you explain yourself” Scott said, feeling bad for his brother but fully understanding your point of view as he had been through the same thing with his ex-friend and crush.

 “Let her go, bro” he repeated himself to which Chris closed his eyes for a few seconds and slowly nodded his head. It pained his heart to know that you never wanted to talk to him again, but knew that you had every right to feel the way you did.

 So, with a heavy sigh, he started typing away while softly biting down onto his lower lip.

 I just want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you. I hope he loves you with his whole heart and soul because you deserve nothing but the best. If you ever need me, I’ll be here waiting for you, if not, then know that I’ll always love and appreciate you, [Y/N].

 Read at 6:3 p.m.

 Chris locked his phone and felt himself close to tears as you had read his message, but again didn’t bother to answer. This wasn’t the closure he had hoped for, but knew that it wasn’t worth dwelling on as he already was a forgotten character in your life, but you not in his.

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclub  l @pleasantdreamqueen l @disneymarina l @koizorahana l l @harleycativy l @itik-angsa l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @enigmaticaphrodite l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @earthtocynthia l @lafayettes-baguettes-1 l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez  l @ilovefanfic86 l @foureyedsiopao l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @oliviajmarvel l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @dedebebe13 l @challaxkillmonger l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace l @killmonsgyal l @lokislilcaribbeanprincess l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @queenxchallaxkillamonger l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath l @supernaturaltrashy l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written.)

I have requests and ideas for all of the prompts, so no more requests from this card will be accepted. I’m planning on writing and posting all of these within the month of December and probably a bit into January. If you don’t want to see these stories, block the tag #false bthb, if you would like to be tagged in future stories shoot me an ask!

This prompt got away from me a bit so it’s split into two parts. The prompt comes into play in this second part. Requested by @atlasistryingherbest​ I hope you like the last part!

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

My Sunshine Part 2

Summary: Patton thinks he’s finally caught the break he needs when he finds and falls in love with Roman. Ignoring the warning signs until it’s too late Patton ends up losing more than he had dared to gain.

Warnings: contains human trafficking, implied non consensual sex, unsympathetic Roman and starvation

Prompt: Denied food as Punishment

Ships: Royality, Patton x Roman

WC: 3, 284

Bustling around their bedroom, Patton quickly threw the books he’d need into his bag before cramming it shut with a huff and throwing it none too gently over his shoulder in his haste to leave. Hearing the car horn honk again he slipped on his shoes and practically ran out the door, a grateful smile on his face even in the wake of his boyfriends impatience. Roman insisted on driving him to the campus even if it wasn’t that much of a walk, meaning he could sleep in a little later which he definitely needed even if he was only working one job now. He had been convinced the third month they lived together that the rent was cheap enough for him to only have to work one job- and it surprisingly was for it being a bigger and better apartment than his old one. He knew Roman probably hadn’t split the rent evenly and he would really have to bring that up with him eventually so he could feel more helpful than he was being but for now as long as it was okay with Roman he felt alright using the extra money to help buy groceries and to start building his savings back up; they’d have that conversation when he felt stable enough to actually back up what he would be offering.

Sliding into the car with a ready smile they shared a quick kiss before Patton buckled himself in and they began to move towards his college. He gripped the straps of his backpack and relaxed in the seat processing just how much his life was turning around and how lucky he was that he head found Roman- or rather that Romann had found him. He brushed that thought aside quickly; he had never brought up the fact that he had noticed Roman’s car practically everywhere significant he went, chalking it up as either coincidence or happenstance. He trusted the other now wholeheartedly and it wouldn’t do any good to bring up his nervousness now nearly half a year into their relationship. Spring break was coming up and he knew Roman was planning a small trip to relax, they shared nearly everything they had in the apartment, grocery getting and meal making was always an even split between them and he could never have asked for a better listener than Roman. For the first time in a long time Patton was completely happy; he wasn’t about to start questioning things and ruin it.

“We’re here, my sunshine.” Roman’s voice brought him out of his thoughts abruptly and he leaned back up and smiled. “You were miles away love, are you alright?”

Leaning over and pecking his boyfriend on the cheek, Patton unbuckled his seatbelt and sat his bag on his shoulder as he opened the door. “Just thinking about my classes, it's gonna be busy today. Thanks for the ride Roman, I hope you have a good day at work.”

Before he could leave his wrist was caught in a vice grip making his heart leap in his throat. Forcing himself to calm down Patton turned only to be met with a loving smile that immediately set his nerves somewhat at ease. “No proper kiss this morning then?”

Patton laughed and leaned back in, capturing the other’s lips somewhat messily and wriggling his hand free with a little effort, finally escaping the car and waving. “I have to go you goof! See you later.”

He didn’t watch the car leave as he walked to his first class, heart still beating a little faster than normal but chiding himself internally to calm down already. Roman was needy with physical affection that was all, no need for alarm bells to go off every time something like that happened. It was just- that happened a lot. Even on days Patton didn’t particularly want touched but that was just what you did in a relationship. He thought so anyway having nothing to compare it to. He shook himself out of his thoughts again, appalled at the line they had crossed. Roman was gone a lot for his job, he didn’t really know what he did other than “business” but it sounded important and it meant he was often out of town for the day, so it made sense he’d be more touchy and affection neddy after such long days working so hard at what he did. The least Patton could do was reciprocate and not be so ungrateful, even if it was only in his head.

Classes went by surprisingly quickly; unfortunately with spring break approaching it meant there would be a lot of projects and essays being piled on as a final hurrah before the two blissful weeks of doing nothing but his job. Bag full to bursting with papers and notes and an extra book or two he sighed as he realized he still had his shift to cover at that restaurant before he could go home. He took a deep breath as he began to get overwhelmed, thinking of work schedules and homework schedules and how much of what projects he could get done before, during and after the break was making his head spin. He knew this would all be worth it afterwards, being able to put all of the busy work behind him and be able to figure out what he wanted to major in and focus on that instead of math he barely understood and classic literature that was nice but frankly did not belong on his priority list right now.

It din’t take him long to get to the restaurant but when he did the full parking lot made him want to turn right back around and go home. It was going to be so busy and with him already being so tired he wasn’t going to lie to himself and say this would be an easy shift. No breaks would be had meaning all the school work he had would have to wait until he got home. Sighing and squaring his shoulders he went in, donned his apron and watched as his switch practically bolted out after waving to his nearly full to bursting section. Plastering on his favorite smile and whipping out the notepad and pen he started towards the closest table and hoped for the best.

-----

Hoping, as it turned out, wasn’t suited for high stress situations in which at any given moment he could feel his sanity slipping away from him.

Since quitting the job at the warehouse he had taken up a couple more hours at the restaurant to make up for the lack of a second paycheck even though living with Roman made money trouble’s much easier to handle. Which meant he was running around on his feet more rather than splitting that with ;lifting heavy boxes , which in and of itself wasn’t bad, but that was on a good day. This was decidedly not a good day. It had been so busy that when one table emptied it seemed he had scarcely wiped it down before it was being taken over by another family or couple waiting impatiently for their orders to be taken and their food to be made and brought out. No matter how much he smiled and suppressed his tears at being insulted or yelled at and pushed down the frustration of being left a one dollar tip or none at all the afternoon turned to late evening and it still hadn’t gotten any better.

His shift was finally ended with one last wipe down of a table and he trudged into the back room utterly exhausted, dragging his feet behind him with every step and his thoughts only filled with a hot shower and bed. Swinging up his heavy backpack reminded him however of all the work he had yet to get done and he felt tears threatening to spill all over again. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep after the incredibly crappy day he had had and on top of all that he remembered it was his turn to make dinner. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly Patton stumbled out of the restaurant and towards the parking lot searching for Roman’s car since he had taken to picking him up from work since the move. No dark blue Sudan to be seen. For once, when he was looking for it and not searching nervously for it back before he had met Roman, the ever present car was nowhere to be seen. Adding insult to injury it started to rain slightly, prompting his tired legs to move quicker to avoid the inevitable soaking he’d get.

He was halfway home when a car pulled up beside him, his mind telling him to run and his heart clenching with nerves before a voice- Roman’s voice, called to him as he got out of the car.

“Patton, I’m so sorry! Jeez, come get in the car!” Numbly Patton followed him to the passenger side where he was buckled in and his bag set on the floor, too tired to wave off Roman’s apology as he slumped into the seat. He was too tired for anything really, chin touching his chest more than once on the short drive home. He heard Roman chuckle softly as the engine shut off and he struggled to get his eyes open enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and leave the car. His door was opened before he could, however, backpack being scooped up and then himself being lifted from his seat as he woke up a bit more and wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck, feeling safe and content and secure.

He was set down on the couch before too long, where he could hear Roman bustling around in the kitchen as he had his eyes closed still. Shooting awake and up after a few minutes he made his way over and began rolling up his sleeves, intent on shooing Roman out of the kitchen so he could make the meal.

“Go back and rest Patton.’ Roman didn’t even look up from where he was slicing tomatoes.

Huffing at the dismissive tone, Patton shook his head and grabbed out the chicken patties from the freezer. “It’s my turn to make dinner that isn’t fair.”

Setting the knife down, Roman gently pried the box out of his hands and steered him back to the couch. “What isn’t fair is that you had a rough day and then you had to walk halfway home in the rain and are now exhausted. Take a quick nap Sunshine; I’ll wake you for dinner and then I can help you to organize your school things so that you don’t have to be so worried about it okay?”

“Roman-” He was stopped by a finger to his lips.

“What kind of Prince Charming would I be if I couldn’t help my damsel in distress?” Patton giggled and leaned into the forehead kiss, relaxing back into the couch and closing his eyes.

-----

He hardly remembered scarfing down his dinner or Roman helping him organize his planner. If he could get just a little bit done each day he shouldn’t be thrown too far off schedule and he might actually be able to enjoy his break. Exhaustion dragged his eyelids down and he settled back into Roman’s strong chest and open arms, smiling contentedly as he felt himself be wrapped up in warmth. Everything was so fuzzy, and he was so tired-

“Did you think maybe you’d be a lot less stressed if you didn't have to work at that restaurant anymore?”

The question nearly succeeded at jarring him awake but with Roman gently rocking him and petting through his hair it hardly seemed to matter. He merely hummed in response, barely entertaining the thought as Roamn shifted seemingly to get more comfortable.

“I could even write an email of resignation for you. All you would have to do is sign off on it.”

Patton hummed again, shaking his head slightly though he wasn’t sure if Roman noticed. He liked his job; sure it got frantic and frustrating sometimes but he could handle it. He had to, how else would he help pay for staying here? Loving as Roman was Patton doubted he’d want to-

“I can fully support you without any problems my love. You’re going to college, that should be the only stress someone like you should have to worry about.”

Faintly he heard typing but it was so distant he could barely concentrate on it. He was so warm and floaty and comfortable and safe- it was fine, they’d talk it over more tomorrow, Roman would never make a decision lille that for him while he was halfway to Dreamland.

“Sleep well my sunshine. I’ll take care of everything.” And with a final kiss to the top of his head, Patton was gone, drifting off peacefully in Roman’s arms.

-----

“You agreed it was for the best!”

“I was ASLEEP, Roman! How am I supposed to support myself now? They already had a replacement filling in for me, I can;t go back now!”

“Then it was probably for the best that you got out before they fired you!”

“Why on EARTH-” Patton took a deep breath and held it before letting it out in a whoosh. “They always have temps as back ups, especially in a college town, Roman. And since ‘I’ quit, I’ll have a really hard time getting back in.”

“But I can help you with that-”

“I didn’t ask you to-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Patton took a step back, fear crossing over his features at the darker tone Roman’s voice had adopted. His angry expression smoothed out after a second, but Patton didn’t miss the way hsis fingers twitched. This wasn’t really the first time Patton had been afraid in their relationship but this is just what people did- at least he thought. Roman must love him, that’s why he’d been taking care of him and why when he saw Patton so stressed he had only wanted to take that stress away- Patton really had been an idiot. Hanging his head in shame he walked forward and gently brushed his fingers against Roman’s.

“I’m sorry. I know you were trying to help, I just- I was so tired yesterday, I wish you would have let me think it through properly. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Oh, my sunshine.” Roman leaned down to press his cheek against the top of Patton’s head. “You never could be.”

-----

“You never could be.” So many months later and those words still ring painfully in Patton’s head. Stupid. He had been so stupid. There had been so many warning signs and yet Patton had been too stupid and selfish to see them for what they were and now...he looked mournfully down as his thin frame, skin stretched taunt over what little muscle he had. He was cold. He was miserable. He wanted nothing more than to back in his shitty apartment with his two jobs and college classes he had been trying his best at; but instead he was here, sitting in a dingy room while he waited for someone else to pay for him to make their fantasy come true.

It had been the little things: Roman always being out of town “on business” he would say. Patton scoffed quietly. Some business. The second cell phone that he had found while cleaning, anger crossing Roman’s features before he brushed it off as his work phone, snatching it away just a little too forcefully to avoid suspicion. Then there was that night, his third night of break where Roman had sprung a surprise trip on him “to a nice hotel and restaurant” and too tired and worn to decline Patton of course agreed, glad to be away from the textbooks for little while at the very least.

He had been told to dress nice, some stopping Roman in the hotel’s hall but he had waved him towards the room saying he was just paying room service early. But Patton had seen the huge money exchange and his suspicion seemed to immediately be founded, but where was he supposed to go? H knew n one except Roman, his work contacts were strangers now, he couldn’t call or just simply go home. He was completely and utterly trapped. And Roman knew it. The entire ride to the restaurant Patton had wanted to throw up. He knew what was going to happen but there was no out for him. He was terrified. Terrified to go with Roman but terrified to even attempt escape. He didn’t know how long he had been stalking him, whether it had been when he first noticed the caar across his apartment building or even earlier than that. He should have trusted his instincts, called the police, anything other than brush it off as coincidence and then as an even bigger one when it turned out to be his date's car. He should have left the first time he got scared around Roman, the first time he noticed he was off but he hadn’t, because Roman was his dream come true, the answer to all his problems, his knight in shining armor come to help him get back on his feet.

Instead he was led into a darkened restaurant where he was stared at while Roman left, coming back with a notebook and showing him all the expenses he had managed to wrack up from what he had taken as Roman being sweet and kind. Every rent bill, overdue book, gas, groceries, heating- he had kept tabs on all of it. And It was all very, very expensive.

“Here's what's going to happen.” He had said. “We need a new face to bring in business, so I found you. You’ll work and pay me back every centt, and then you can go. In exchange you get a free ride through college. Fair?”

And in that moment, that crucial moment, Patton simply nodded. What was he supposed to do? Say no? He knew now what saying no would have risked and his stomach growled painfully at the reminder of the punishment he was carrying out. “Deny a client,” he had said. “Deny me and I promise you you won’t want to do it again.” The warning was always close to the forefront of his mind, though he did stills lip up now and then. A no meant no food for the day, since he had already lost the money it was only fair he lost a meal. Simple on paper, excruciatingly difficult in practice.

He curled further into himself as his stomach growled again, going on the third day of his punishment, too tired to care, too utterly exhausted to question when his fall classes started so he could attempt to fix himself up before then. He existed, he floated and that was enough for everyone who came in the room at any given moment, so of course it had to be enough for him.

Patton existed, and his stomach growled and his muscled tightened when he thought he heard noises from outside and his eyes squeezed shut when they dared threaten to let any of his unshed tears fall because the last time he had gotten dehydrated no one had cared until he couldn’t be woken up for an hour. His joints creaked under the weight of his odd position but it didn’t matter, nothing did. He existed and he floated and his groaned and his stomach growled and curled tighter when he thought he heard noises.

And that was enough.

This work is also available on AO3!

[untilspringdays]

Lovely Sins || Chapter 3

Summary: You were a researcher investing six strange beings that you didn’t quite understand. They had strange powers that you and your partner Mark Lee were tasked with testing the extent off. It was your typical day really but as time progressed between you and the seven of these men, you found yourself growing attached. Will the seven of these men restore some of your humanity? And could you help them escape?

Pairings: Reader x Super M (OT7)

Genre: Sci-fi AU || Angst, Fluff, Smut (Eventually)

Warnings: Violence, Experimentation, Cussing, Torture, Dark Themes. (Will have some dark things going on please read at your own risk!)

A/N: I still very much love this story. I love writing it. It just kinda flows out of me when I get started writing it. 

Word Count: 4.2 k

Previous || Master List || Next

Tag-list: @reiki-chan (Ask me or message me to be added!)

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding on to. Ten had stepped inside the containment and so far nothing bad was happening to Subject number 10. The three regarded each other, studied each other. You didn’t know what would happen next and you were afraid. 

Mark had his hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring squeeze, trying to calm your anxieties. He was the first to break the silence that had built in the observation room. “88 and 4 seem tense, while Ten…” A small chuckle came from his lips as your partner observed the relaxed expression on Ten’s face. 

“I’m glad the two of you can be relaxed in this kind of situation.” Your gaze remained on three subjects in the room before turning down to tap out some notes on your tablet. 

“It will work out fine, I’m sure of it. Have faith in Ten and I.” Mark stated looking at you for a moment, before turning back to observe. 

The words had you turning your attention to Mark, gaze falling on his profile. His dark eyes watched the room below the two of you but you were certain he saw you staring. A smirk that appeared on his features only confirmed what you knew to be true. 

With a scoff and the roll of your eyes, your turned your attention back to the containment, ignoring the chuckle that came from your partner. The small playful moment ending right then as the two of you got back to actually doing your job. 

“He has gotten closer.” Mark hummed out, sounding somewhat pleased with this development. 

“88 and 4 are still cautious of him though.” You said quietly. “I’m betting they are both thinking he is just another researcher, which makes me wonder if Ten will do something to show he is one of them.” 

You knew that Ten wore subject clothes but in a place like this where anyone could easily get a hold of subject clothes, it was hard to trust as proof, at least for other subjects. There were very limited ways that Ten could get them to trust him. 

“The cameras are recording correct?” You asked. You knew the answer but you still wanted to ask and make sure. 

“When are the cameras not recording?” Mark asked, his voice teasing. 

You shoved him lightly with your currently free arm. “Shut up.” You said. “I just wanted to double check. You know how I am.” There was a small pout on your face from his teasing, but you knew he meant no harm. 

He let out a fake “Ow..” but you didn’t have to look to know there was a grin on his face. You could tell just from knowing him for a long time. 

Silence fell between the two of you once again, both of you watching and waiting on something, anything to happen between the three of the people in the room. Aside from his initial greeting, Ten hadn’t said anything, no words were spoken by the other two test subjects in the room. 

You wanted to push Ten, give him some instruction but you couldn’t. If you even spoke this whole test could be ruined, Ten could be in even more danger than he currently was. There was tension throughout your body. No matter how much you wanted to relax, you couldn’t. You had to trust subject 10 to be able to handle this situation. 

Your eyes were locked on the trio in the room as soon as Ten finally began trying to interact with the two companions. Your hand gripped tightly on your tablet as you waited for what would happen next. You didn’t even need to look at Mark to know he was engrossed in the situation just as much as you were. 

And just like that Ten had surprised his two researchers with his next move. In a mere second the space that had remained between the three subjects was closed to a respectable distance. That small moment Ten being his usual self but showing a new ability that neither Mark nor You had seen him show before, and never would see again. 

“You saw that right?” Mark asked, neither of you paying attention to the small talk that the three subjects were now making in light of Ten showing he was a test subject as well. 

“Uh-huh” You were dumbfounded to say the least. Your brain trying to process what exactly you had just witnessed. No matter how many times you had seen their strange abilities, it always surprised you whenever you saw them again. 

As soon as you collected yourself, you opened up Subject 10’s file, going to make the appropriate edit. “Just like 88..” You commented as you added teleporting to the long list of abilities Ten has displayed, but all of them, in the whole history of him being at this facility, he had only displayed them once. 

Mark’s eyes were still locked on the subjects in the containment, but you could tell his mind was thinking through all of the information on Ten. “How many abilities has Ten shown us so far?” He asked you knowing that you were looking at the information.

A small hum escaped you as you looked at the list for a small moment. “Of our known abilities? At least 40..” You commented, shuddering a bit as you remembered some of his more violent displays, even if he never hurt you or Mark. 

“None of them repeats?” He asked grimly already knowing the answer. 

“None of them repeats.” You remarked plainly, not likely the fact at all, but at least he showed a perfect mastery over his numerous abilities unlike 211. You didn’t understand Subject 10, he was a mystery for as long as he has been in the center. 

The three test subjects were just talking now. As much as you wanted to pay attention to every word they spoke, you couldn’t. Everything they were discussing was stuff you already knew since it was about their time at the center. Mark seems to pay attention more than you, but that was only to certain things that he didn’t bother to research when he joined your team. Things that had occured before he joined the center. 

As time passed you found yourself settled back into the chair. All of them seemed to get along, things were going well. There weren’t any hostile feelings left in the air between them. As you watched the three it seemed more and more like they were just old friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time. 

Mark has stepped out of the room for a moment, when one conversation caught your attention. 4’s familiar voice brought you out of your trance. 

“What did you do before you got to the center?” His question was directed at Ten, seeing how he already knew 88. 

“I don’t remember.” Ten replied, the conversation becoming more serious than it was precious moments before. The bright and wide grins seemed to vanish as they all intently listened to what eachother had to say. 

“I honestly don’t remember anything before the center. I barely remember an incident… then vaguely being told about the center and how I was being taken here, and then everything after that is just the center. Nothing before.” Ten said, his face looking to the ceiling of the containment as he pondered over his past. 

Well that was more than he ever told you. Maybe it was because of the fact he might have deemed it unimportant. Even if it was very little information it was still new. A new little crack in the mystery that was Ten. Maybe you would have to pry your higher ups for more information on him, see if they could do some digging for you if you could convince them that it was worthwhile. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me how the two of you ended up here?” Ten asked, his tone cautious. 

88 was the first to speak up. “I’m one of the newer ones here.. I haven’t been here as long as Baekhyun, or even you. I ended up here shortly after I discovered my jumping ability. One wrong call from one accidental sighting and I was brought here..” 

88’s dark gaze drifted over to the older male sitting beside him. “I never expected to find someone I knew here..” Kai stated. “I don’t think I was supposed to know until my first escape. As soon as I stepped out of that room, that containment. I could feel something familiar but I didn’t know how to explain it. I don’t think I can still.”

So 88 could feel something every time he left his containment. There was something that was drawing him to Subject 4. What though? Just another question to every vague answer. 

Baekhyun nodded when Kai had mentioned a connection. “Like him I could feel it too, but it wasn’t until he stepped into my containment that I did.” 

You never expected Baekhyun’s gaze to land right on you even though he couldn’t see through the glass panel you were standing behind. Had he known you were there the whole time? 

His gaze fell back to the others as he spoke up again, “I can only assume one of them opened the door when Kai was out of his room.” Baekhyun shrugged sitting back. “I know they are the only ones that can open them, no matter how hard I try.”

Ten let out a small hum, clearly knowing the truth behind everything that had happened. “Probably so.” So he was choosing to hide the fact that he had somewhat of a close bond with the two of you? Or was he waiting for a better chance to reveal the truth. “Didn’t you say you got it open one time? Or was that because of your jumping ability?” Ten asked turning the subject away from the researchers. 

“I was able to jump through all of the times I was able to get out.. The first time I didn’t think they had anything in place but afterwards. I wouldn’t be surprised if every time I got out was intentional..” You could tell from the look on his face he was coming to realize that it was the truth. 

Ten spoke up next. “Well at least you have reunited with someone you know, and clearly they have at least some kindness to them to allow the two of you to stay together.” You couldn’t tell if that statement was a compliment or a suggestion to let them stay together permanently. 

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah, that is one positive at least.”

“The researchers seem nice. To me, it seems like they are just doing their job. I don’t think they are the ones that want to keep us here.” Ten spoke up in your favor of being another positive even if he was hiding his connection with the two of you. 

No. You didn’t want to keep them here. Yes you wanted to find out exactly what was going on with their abilities, and their differences from regular people, but keeping them trapped? No. You were sure there better ways of keeping their abilities in check, and allowing them to keep their lives instead of confining them to this space, but alas you were just doing your job. Doing what you were told to do, keeping the life you had left. 

“I haven’t gotten the chance to talk with either of them. At first they seemed nice but then everything became repetitive, there wasn’t a point in talking.” Baekhyun commented, causing you to hesitate in your notes for a small moment. He continued. “The girl.. She has been here longer. She was here when I first got here. The guy.. He didn’t show up for a couple years.” 

88 Seemed to agree with what the older had said. “What they approach you with is very repetitive. I have realized that, but I haven’t been here long enough to give a good judgement either.”

“I don’t know if it’s just because I don’t remember my past or if it’s because I have had more interaction time with our two researchers, but.. I like them.” Ten stated. There was honesty in Ten’s tone. Something he never really admitted so directly. It was always in a teasing or joking form, but not this time. “I like them a lot.” 

The statement had made you paused once again. You understood his situation on the subject. If his affection, if his friendliness towards the two of you was due to his isolation or if it was actually something real. 

The door opening brought you back from your musing, Mark poking his head in. “Higher ups said to wrap it up. They think they have spent too much time together.”

You turned back to him. “But-” You started, only to be cute off. 

“No buts, unfortunately. They said you were already pushing it with the whole keeping 4 and 88 in the same place. They can’t allow too many changes in such a short amount of time.” Mark stated knowing how you worked and how the Higher ups worked. 

You let out a low drawn out sigh. “Fine. You can grab him from the containment then, since you agreed to this whole thing in the first place.” You grabbed your things before heading down the stairs, pausing to watch Mark open the containment to grab Ten. You lead the two men out the room. Many new questions from this interaction weighing on your mind. 

As Mark stepped into your office first, you turned to Ten. “Are you going to join us?” Basically, it was an open invitation to come inside your office something you didn’t extend to him often. 

Ten shook his head. “No. Everything you guys need is on the recordings, I just want to sleep if I’m honest. The excitement wore me out.” 

You nodded at his comment, a little confused, but not questioning it. “Alright, see you in a few hours then.”

✦

After you and Mark reviewed every little detail in the footage, every little word, every shift in posture, any hint as to something new, you decided you needed a break from watching the video feed and check in on some of the other subjects. As you went to step out of the office Mark called to you. 

“Take a break and get some sleep after you do your rounds. You need some sleep, I will watch them and do some research for a bit okay?” You tried to argue with him but of course you didn’t get anywhere. He was as hard headed as you were sometimes. 

Ten was asleep like he had said. 2 was inside his room not paying any attention to you at all as he was writing in a notebook. 109 didn’t acknowledge you either, which wasn’t shocking. 4 and 88 were the same as ever. 211.. 211 had more energy than you could deal with. 

While you appreciated his bright attitude, your work never allowed you to match his energy. You were always worn and tired. Maybe one day, one day there would be a spot where his energy could be used up like you knew he wanted. 

You stood in his room, a small grin on your face as he flashed you a big bright one when you stepped inside. 

“Are things going okay with you 211? Food okay? Are you entertained enough?” You asked, getting the basics out of the way. 

“I told you to call me Lucas.” He said in his usual sweet way, his deep voice always making you relax despite the stress on your shoulders. 

“But yes. The food is good, and I’m doing pretty good too. Though, I am going to need a new cup for my pencils and pens.” He said with a sheepish chuckle, to which you let out a small giggle of your own. 

“Again 211?” Your tone was teasing, clear to show that you were joking. You understood his situation and how it was for him, and his ability. 

“I will put in the request for you, and maybe have some back-ups lined up too. With more practice I’m sure one day you will be able to get free roam privileges. I hate having to keep you here.” You said to him. His personality was too bright, he was too friendly to be stuck in the room. 

“Nah don’t worry about it too much. I prefer being in here so that way I don’t mess up anything important for you guys. One day though. One day I will be able to get out of here.” His bright smile was back in no time.

“Alright then, I will drop it for now.” You said keeping your tone friendly. “While I hate to cut this short, I’m going to have to jump to the small test I need from you now. I need to get some rest, I have had a long few days.” You didn’t bother to hide how you felt from 211. He always understood no matter the situation, remaining positive as can be, and you apprenticated it. You carefully placed the small egg shaped object on the table that was kept in the center of the room. 

“It’s not a problem.” Lucas stated, clearly not minding that you needed to get some sleep. “Make sure you take care of yourself too though since you always make sure I do.” He said looking at you, the smile on his face restoring some of your brightness. 

He had approached the table, his hand reaching out for the object you had placed at its center. Only to pause a small distance away to look at you. A single nod from you had him closing the distance, a single relaxed finger touching the object. 

Like all of the other times you have seen it, cracks split their way from where he touched the egg shape, completely engulfing it in no time before it completely fell into dust. No matter the object material, no matter the object’s size. It was always the same, turning to a fine dust that left no resemblance of the object it was before. 

You noted some things down on your tablet for a moment as Lucas just stood there and watched you, waiting for you to be done. When you were you smiled up at him, a real smile instead of the fake ones you gave him sometimes. 

“Thank you for working with me. It makes me really happy that you are.” You said. 

That signature grin was back on his face in no time at all. “I’m glad I can make your day a little easier Y/N. Anything it takes to get used to whatever this is.”

“Alright, thank you again. I will be going now. My bed is calling my name.” You said to him, your hand with the tablet falling to your side, not taking long to reach the door. 

He called out to you before you completely exited. Your attention falling back on the tall man once again. “Sleep well Y/N.”

Your real smile was on your face in no time again, a silent thanks. As you stepped out of his containment, you made a small futile wish. You wanted all of your subjects happy, like him, again. 

✦

It should have caught you off guard when Ten didn’t follow the two of you back to your office for discussions. Just passing it off as him wanting to go to his room to get some sleep, that his excitement for interacting with the other subjects kept him up and wore him out. You should have pressed more now that you were thinking about it, but you didn’t.

And now? Looking at the situation you were facing? You should have known something was up. Something had changed, and there was something you missed. That interaction.. The way he reacted. You should have known, you really should have known. 

You were quickly moving down the hallway that was your sector, your gaze looking to Mark as he stepped out of 211’s containment but as soon as he spotted you he called your name trying to get you to stop. When you didn’t, he stepped into your path, his arms coming out and capturing you preventing you from moving forward. You had to see 109, you had to. You struggled against his hold. Not bothering to notice the guards stationed outside the two doors at the end of the hall.

“Y/N. Going to see him right now would just make things worse..” He grunted out as he fought your movements for a moment before finally you gave up knowing he could easily over power you if he wanted. 

“But.. I have to make sure he is okay..” You said, your tone showing just how much this event was affecting you. “We.. It felt like I was finally making progress with him..” Your body slouched, the adrenaline in your body a moment before when you first found out 109 was hurt quickly fading allowing exhaustion to take its place. Mark was supporting your weight at this point with his hold. 

“I know..” Mark said, pulling you closer against him, knowing the amount of mental stress you had been under lately wasn’t helping with your current situation. 

Mark turned you around and pulled you into his side, walking you in the opposite direction you were heading. Heading back to the offices. He pulled you inside his office which sat opposite to your own. He helped you settle into the chair across from his desk before taking a seat in his chair. His office was always a little neater than yours, never as many papers scattered around. 

Your arm was settled on the arm rest, hand cradling your head as your gaze remained to the ground. 

“Who did it?” You asked, tone sounding defeated. After you got the message you didn’t pay attention to the details, just the fact that 109 was hurt.. All of your progress was gone.. 

“Y/N…” Mark started his tone clearly showing you wouldn’t want to hear it. 

“Who. Did. It?” You stated emphasizing you wanted to know. You had to know. 

There was a heavy pause before he spoke again. “Subject 10.” 

Everything around you froze. Your blood ran cold. You.. What.. Ten..? You.. You couldn’t believe it. Subject 10 never showed a history of violence… He just.. What….?

“Are… Are you sure? How.. He didn’t seem to be the type..” You said, your voice becoming meeker. As much as he bugged you, you never imagined him doing something like this. 

Mark let out a sigh, understanding your thought process. He ran his hand through his hair. “It’s him.. In the footage you can see him get into 109’s containment before the video feed cuts off. We…” He paused assessing his word choice for a moment before he spoke again. “We assume that he used two different abilities he hasn’t displayed before to get inside, and then one again when he shut off the camera feed. By the time we got to the room, the damage was already done.”

You rubbed your hand over your face as you processed the information. “So…”

“He didn’t fight us taking him back to his containment. His free roam privileges have been revoked, and he has no right to get them back any time soon. Also we aren’t allowed to step foot into Subject 10’s and 109’s room for the next few days. Orders from higher ups.” Mark informed you. 

“Is Subject 10 okay?” You asked, trying to fully grasp this situation. So much was being thrown at you. 

“He is fine.. He refuses to speak up about what exactly he has done to 109 and why he did it. Not even I could drag it out of him.” Mark sounded defeated too.

As much as you wanted to go down there and speak to him yourself you know you couldn’t. Your bosses would be on your case in no time.. They didn’t tolerate any event like this, and there were certain things that had to be done when it did occur. “So, We are just supposed to ignore two of our subjects until further notice?” You asked, clearly not wanting to do as you were directed. All Mark offered in reply was a nod. A sullen silence falling over both of you. 

A soft knock at Mark’s door pulled the both of you out of your depressive mood. It seemed one shock wasn’t enough for either of you today. As soon as you opened the door, you were both met with Subject 2. 

The shock of the moment causes you to slip up. 

“Taemin?” You asked. The quick small smile on his face at his real name didn’t go unnoticed.

“I heard about the incident, and I might be able to help on the matter.” The older man said.

Mark who was more level headed than you at the current moment answered. “What is it Subject 2?” 

[seeaddywrite]

vampire au ficlet #1: 

see this post for an explanation. this one was supposed to be domestic, & i think it still fits the bill? but as usual, some angst, h/c, & non sexual intimacy snuck in there while i wasn’t looking. ficlet is set post main ‘verse, assume Jesse has been taken care of, Malex got together & Michael moved in with Alex. (in the cabin, because i’m sorry, WHEN were we given any indication he had a house last season??) warnings for blood, mentions of blood drinking, & the usual vamp fic stuff. not beta-d or even proofread because i am a mess. 

Cohabitation doesn’t come easily, despite their best intentions. Both men have been alone for too long for that – Alex has built a routine for himself, one he’s dependent on for both his mental and physical health, and including another person in that routine can’t happen overnight. For the first week, Alex doesn’t bother. He sleeps late instead of obeying his dawn alarm, tangled up with Michael in the bed that’s felt too big since he bought it, but now is comfortable and warm. He eats when Michael does, giving up on the rigid three meals a day he’s forced himself to follow, and escapes to the basement to gulp down a bag of blood here and there, when it becomes absolutely necessary. Instead of stretches or yoga, Alex lets Michael drag him back to bed and pull him out of his head in other, more interesting ways, and he pointedly ignores the voice in the back of his head reminding him that he can’t keep it up.

It works ... until it doesn’t. 

Two weeks after Michael moves in, Alex wakes up screaming. When his eyes open, there’s a tell-tale crimson tinge to his vision and a lingering burning in his neck, his sire’s fangs emblazoned in his mind’s eye.

His first thought is that Michael is too fucking close, too sticky against him, too overwhelming. Alex rolls away as quickly as he can, trying to calm his racing heartbeat and slow his rapid breathing. He hates the affect nightmares have on him; even when he barely remembers them, they ruin everything for hours afterward.

“You okay?” Michael asks, voice rough with sleep as he gropes for the lamp on the bedside table.  A hand lands on the sweat-soaked expanse of Alex’s bare back, and he flinches away before he can stifle the instinct. He hates being touched so soon after a nightmare; he’s thrown more than one guy out of bed after a one-night stand for less. But this is Michael, Alex hasn’t made any effort to explain his boundaries. So he forces himself to turn over and give his boyfriend what he hopes is an apologetic look before pushing himself up and beginning the laborious task of untangling himself from the blankets he’d twisted in the throes of a nightmare. 

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” he tells Michael, lisping a bit around his fangs. They’re still biting into his lower lip, and he knows he hasn’t quite managed to regulate his breathing, but he can’t help but hope Michael will just let it go -- let Alex go, until he can pull himself back together. 

But the mattress shifts under Michael’s weight, and Alex can tell he’s getting up without looking at him. “Bullshit,” comes the flat reply. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to make you.” Alex’s enhanced hearing picks up every sound as Michael gets out of bed and slides into the discarded pair of jeans he’d dumped on the bedroom floor before they went to sleep. In another minute, he’s walking around the bed to stand in front of Alex, shirtless and rumpled, Alex’s crutch held out in one hand. 

Alex takes it with fingers that tremble, and he swallows, trying to figure out what to do next. This could easily turn into a fight; he knows, intuitively, that any move he makes to distance himself from Michael will be taken personally. Alex isn’t the only one with emotional baggage in this relationship -- Michael’s been pushed away and abandoned more times than anyone should be in a single lifetime, and until recently, Alex has only added to that list. If Alex isn’t careful, he’s going to rile up all of those negative emotions all over again, and he doesn’t think he can stand a fight right now. But the longer he thinks, the longer he’s silent, the more obvious the distance between them becomes, and Alex struggles to keep thinking logically. 

“Michael,” he says desperately, but Guerin is already moving toward the door. Panic starts to creep into his thoughts, scattering them into a spiral of He’s walking away, and What if he doesn’t come back this time? And Why can’t I ever just tell him I want him to stay? The crutch is still in his hand, and Alex could pull himself up and follow Michael if he chose -- but what would he say? Getting into an explanation of all the things he doesn’t want after a nightmare is too heavy, too much, right now, and he doesn’t want Michael to feel guilty for offering comfort. So he stays, frozen in indecision at the edge of the bed, until Michael reappears in the doorway, two cups in his hands. 

Alex takes the cup offered him without thinking, staring at the calm expression on Michael’s face and trying to read the intention behind it. He doesn’t seem upset, and he came back, but he left. Why would he do that if he wasn’t upset? Alex drops his crutch back against the wall to rub at his eyes, brain foggy and slow now that the immediate panic has passed. After another moment of silence, he scoots to one side, hoping Michael will take the hint and rejoin him. 

Thankfully, he does, and Alex’s side warms quickly when pressed against Michael’s bare skin. 

The acrid scent of acetone burns his nose as soon as Michael is close, and Alex makes a face. He glances into his own -- not because he’s worried that Michael put the stuff in his glass, too, but because he’d assumed the cups held cocoa or tea for both of them. He blanches when he realizes that he’s holding the poured-out contents of a blood bag in his hands, and shoots a sidelong look at Michael, once again doing his best to parse what the other man might be thinking based on his posture and facial expression. The relaxed slouch and placid look don’t give him much to go on, though. 

“You always have nightmares when you only eat food during the day,” Michael says finally, brows drawn as he looks at Alex. “It’s never been this bad before -- usually, you calm down when I start talking to you. But it always happens.” 

Alex blinks in surprise. “I -- do?” He’s never noticed that correlation, but if he trusts Michael -- which he does -- then he’s been having nightmares without remembering them fairly regularly for the past few weeks. Putting the puzzle together would have been impossible if he was missing one of the pieces. Even as it bothers him, the knowledge that Michael notices these things, spends enough time watching and thinking of him to put it together, banishes the last, lingering cold from his nightmare. 

Michael nods. “Yeah.” He looks away for a moment, taking a long sip of acetone, then drags his gaze back to Alex’s face. “Is there a reason you’re not drinking blood? When we talked about it in the desert, you said you had a schedule or something, but you’ve been sneaking down to the basement when I’m not looking, like a guilty kid trying to steal his parents’ booze.”

It’s a pretty accurate description of the way he’s been acting, Alex supposes, even if it stings his pride. He huffs, then shrugs. “It’s hard,” he admits eventually, swirling the blood in his cup and watching it move rather than look at Michael. “Since I’ve been back, I had to build a life for myself, you know? I had to figure out how to make it work when I didn’t have anyone. Otherwise I didn’t get out of bed.” Aware that he sounds pathetic, Alex shrugs again and forces himself to look at Michael, who’s expression has gone soft with understanding. “And until you found out, the blood -- all of this --” he gestures vaguely toward his face, which still isn’t quite human. “It was the most shameful secret I had. I was so careful to hide it, to pretend that I was normal. So now-” 

“You still feel like you have to hide,” Michael finishes for him, his frown deepening. 

Alex clutches the mug in his hands a little bit tighter, careful of his strength -- it had only taken two shattered glasses to learn that lessons, early on in his tenure as a vampire. “It’s habit,” he answers. “It’s not you. I just need to figure out how to live with someone who knows everything and isn’t freaked out.” He tips his head to one side, smiling slightly. “Drinking nail polish remover is still a step down from blood.” 

With a huff and a roll of his eyes, Michael takes another pointed sip. “Man, alien from space beats vampire in the freak department any day,” he retorts, knocking his shoulder gently against Alex’s. The teasing dies away, then, and Michael slowly drapes an arm around Alex’s shoulder, tugging him toward his chest. Alex goes willingly, the desire for distance long gone, and lets himself be maneuvered into sitting between Michael’s spread legs, back to chest against the headboard. 

“So,” Michael says, his voice rumbling pleasantly through his chest and into Alex’s back. “Are you going to drink that, or are we going to do all this again in a few hours?” His own mug is empty, discarded on the bedside table. 

But Alex’s cup is still full in his hand, and he can’t really argue with Michael’s point. Plus, he hasn’t looked human for the last half an hour; if Michael was going to be disgusted, it would have happened already -- probably two weeks ago, when Alex was fang-deep in his carotid artery in the middle of the desert with no self-control. There’s no reason to be uncomfortable drinking bagged blood from a glass in front of him at this point. 

And yet ...

“C’mon, Alex,” Michael murmurs, apparently reading Alex’s mind -- or maybe just noticing the tension in his body from where they are pressed so close together. “I love you, remember? And it’s just you and me here.” A calloused, warm hand cups Alex’s where it’s wrapped around ceramic, guiding the cup toward his mouth. Alex lets Michael lead, though something tells him he should be embarrassed by such a display. That’s a thought for later -- much later, when the scent of blood hasn’t turned his stomach into a hollow, aching pit, and Michael hasn’t blown through his every defense and made him forget that he’s supposed to be uncomfortable with such strange intimacy. 

The cool edge of the cup touches his lips, and Alex is the one to tip the contents down his throat. Liquid energy flows through him, sizzling along his veins and nerves and easing an ache to which he’d grown so accustomed that it barely registered anymore. It’s not as good as blood from Michael’s veins, but since Alex has promised himself -- and Michael -- that he won’t bite him again, this is the next best thing. Drinking with Michael’s arms around him, an anchor in the sea of sensation, a reminder that he’s no longer alone in this . . . it’s everything a younger, lonelier Alex had wished for after the accident in Iraq, and he hopes he’ll never start to take it for granted. 

An invisible hand lifts the empty mug and deposits it somewhere in the room; Alex’s head is lolling bonelessly against Michael’s chest, and he can’t be bothered to lift it to find out where. Gentle fingers comb through his hair, and a haze of contentment takes over, chasing away the last of Alex’s more monstrous features. His face relaxes after the transformation, and he lets his eyelids drift closed. “Thank you,” he murmurs, knowing Michael will hear it. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” 

“Thank me by giving up hiding in the basement,” Michael suggests, his voice as gentle as the fingers still moving in Alex’s hair. 

It’s not hard for Alex to agree to that. He nods easily, then turns his head to tuck his face into Michael’s shoulder. “We should probably talk about the nightmares, tomorrow,” he says, the words muffled by skin. “And -- some other stuff.” His routine. Boundaries. Michael’s hatred of letting Alex know where he’s going and when he’ll be back, and the anxiety it causes when he doesn’t. The messes on the bathroom floor that make navigating the small space hard for Alex, especially in the morning. Whatever problems Michael’s run into in the last two weeks; Alex knows there are bound to be some. He’s not the easiest person to live with, either. 

Those problems don’t seem nearly as insurmountable as they had earlier in the evening, though. Alex doesn’t know if it’s because he’s finally fed or because Michael has proven yet again that he’s not going anywhere, but he’s optimistic for their future together for the first time. Vampire, alien -- those words don’t matter. Here, in their bed, neither of them are anything but men wanting to be loved. 

That’s enough to carry them through.

[dreammthief]

In Your Arms

Requested: yes / no

Rating: M

Warnings: language and reference to sex

Words: 3.5k

Prompt/Summary: Some friendships are based on mutual respect and admiration, while others stem from relentless banter and mischief. This one is a bit of both with a dash of mutual pining. 

Pairing: Theodore Nott x slytherin!reader

A/N – I figured since my name claims that I write, it’s about time I started doing that. I do have an AO3 and FFN account where I post fuller fics and one-shots, but I decided to keep short fics like these (especially reader inserts) to tumblr only. You can join my tag list for any notifications of new postings for fics by sending an ask with a ☆ (requests are open for any hp pairing!).

“Salazar’s balls, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“No arguments here.”

Theo rolls his eyes. He slings his school bag over his shoulder and rakes a hand through his unruly hair. While the motion was probably meant to make his hair fall handsomely over his face, you can’t help but laugh as it only seemed to make it worse. 

When everyone files into the classroom and begins unpacking their things as Professor Slughorn drawls on about another one of his charming ex-students, you turn to Theo and arch your eyebrow. 

“So, what did you do that caused you to realize you’re such a fucking idiot? Other than look in the mirror this morning,” you add with a smirk. Draco snickers and elbows Theo playfully, who huffs indignantly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, L/N?”

“It’s less that I actually care what you did and more that I know you want to talk about it.” 

Theo is about to respond when Professor Slughorn waddles over to the table where you and your fellow Slytherins are huddled about two cauldrons. You straighten immediately, the brilliant student you are – which is to say you are not a teacher’s pet, not like Granger anyway, just that you happen to understand the advantage of pretending to care about a Professor and their subject when in their presence – and await today’s instructions. 

Draco and Theo notice this abrupt change in behavior and stifle laughs in their robes. 

For good measure, you kick each of their shins under the table.

“Oh-ho! Why aren’t you all already in your groups? Two and two – Yes – There you go – Ah, no, no. This won’t do. Malfoy, you go with Zabini. Nott, you work with L/N.” He beamed at them once he was satisfied, then waddled over to the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students. You catch him muttering, “Nott could use all the help he can get, bless him,” and turn back to Theo with a knowing smirk.

However, your smirk immediately fades when you see Theo is already grinning mischievously at you.

“Don’t,” you hiss, “ruin this for us, Nott, I beg of you.”

“Begging already, L/N? Naturally, I assumed I would have had to work a little harder for that, but I suppose n–”

Theo cuts himself off as your wand finds itself just below his belt loop. 

“So help me, Nott, if you don’t shut your mouth, I will do it for you.”

You narrow your eyes warningly at him, not daring to move your wand; you both know the threat is relatively empty. After all, you’ve only ever hexed students in other Houses and only when they absolutely deserved it… Allegedly hexed, that is. They couldn’t prove anything.

But Theo doesn’t blink. In fact, his grin deepens slightly.

“Is that a promise?” He finally says.

“Begging already, Nott?” You counter, laughing at him and finally leaning away to focus on the actual project demanding your attention. 

–––

The castle was still and quiet. You yawn and rub at your eyes as you trudge through the halls; as deserted as the library had been after curfew, the potions classroom was even emptier. That is, until Nott bound loudly and carelessly into the classroom, throwing his school bag on the floor and falling into the stool beside yours with an exasperated sigh.

When you don’t acknowledge his presence, he dramatically sighs again.

“What?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m late?” He prompted, reaching out to steal a dandelion root. He retracts his hand after you deliver a well-deserved smack to it, and his brows furrow momentarily before his trademark smirk lightens his expression. “Hello? L/N? Anyone home?”

“Nott, for the love of Merlin–”

“Salazar’s balls, Y/N, who spit in your pumpkin juice?” He backs away, hands raised, then crosses the workbench to hand you the next ingredient required to make the very complicated Dreamless Sleep potion. “You look terrible. Have you slept at all since we’ve been assigned this project?”

A glare suffices to answer the question for you.

Still, Theo doesn’t let up his rambling. He goes on about the woes of sharing a dormitory with Draco for the fact that he constantly mutters about Potter in his sleep when you finally drop your wand beside the cauldron in frustration.

“Y/N! What the fuck?” Theo shouts, eyes widening in alarm. He rushes over to the cauldron and continues stirring it counterclockwise three turns, then clockwise once. “What the hell is going on with you?” He asks once the allotted time for stirring has passed. 

While the concoction simmers for thirty minutes before the next ingredient must be added – at precisely 11:58pm on the third Thursday since starting the potion which is why you’re both there in the first place – Theo crosses his arms and fixes you with a stern look. 

“What gives, L/N?”

“Nothing,” you groan. 

Theo purses his lips, taking in your sudden urge to lay flat out on the cold floor. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

“I’m tired is all. A bit stressed.”

“A bit?”

“Fine,” another groan. “A lot stressed. I need to get full-marks on this assignment, the essay for Arithmancy is due next week and I haven’t even started it, and don’t get me started on Runes or I might kill myself.”

Theo glances briefly at the potion, then settles on the floor beside you, leaning back against the table leg and kicking out his long legs. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you need to alleviate that stress before you implode. Preferably sooner rather than later, because I have no intention of failing this potions project either, and unfortunately that means I need you.”

“Hold on, can you repeat that last bit? I need to commit it to memory and hold it against you forever.”

“Ha, ha,” he counters, rolling his eyes. “You’re a bloody mess, you know that don’t you? Get your shite together, L/N.” 

You huff indignantly, then sit up on your elbows and brush your hair out of your face. “How are you so bloody relaxed? Have you finished your Arithmancy essay or lost sleep because of this ridiculous potion?”

“Not all all,” Theo scoffs. “Then again, I couldn’t be stressed even if I tried. It’s not in my nature. I certainly could never be as wound up as you’ve become. Truly, it’s unsettling.”

“Thank you. That’s so helpful.”

“Come here.”

You blink up at him.

“What?”

“You want me to help you unwind? Come here.”

You narrow your eyes at him, disbelieving the trickster god incarnate himself is not about to abuse your fatigued state for the sake of a perfectly good prank. He purses his lips, then tugs gently at your arm. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N, for fuck’s sake.” 

Theo turns you slowly then settles himself behind you. Instinctively you tense as his legs extend on either side of yours; you hold your breath because if you dared to exhale, your spine would rest against his chest, and given your vulnerable position, that was the last thing you wanted. 

At least, you muse internally, Theo can’t see the heat rise to your cheeks.

“May I?” He asks. His long fingers hover above your shoulders, and you glance skeptically at them before nodding, not meeting his blue eyes. 

His thumb digs into the trapezius muscle peeking out from your robes, and a hiss escapes from between your lips.

“Fuck, L/N. Your knots have knots.” Theo laughs.

Although Theo is suspiciously good at kneading into your very tense muscles, his proximity and the breath from his lips that tickles your ears only serves to make you more tense. Which is odd because you’re usually quite relaxed around Theo; it was why he was one of your best mates. You always felt like you had the upper hand in every interaction, but not here. You are completely at Theo’s mercy, and what was stranger was that this Theo was somehow the same as your Theo and yet, completely different.

You stand up abruptly and brush nonexistent dirt off your robes. 

“The potion,” you blurt out, dragging your attention from the flicker of vulnerability in Theo’s eyes to the bubbling violet potion on the counter. You busy yourself with adding the next ingredient at precisely 11:58pm, but the next opportunity you have to sneak a look at Theo, you take it.

The familiar glint returned to his eyes, and his trademark smirk spread lazily across his lips.

Perhaps, you imagined the other Theo – the one who was infallibly gentle and soft.

“I know a few other tricks for unwinding if you’re interested,” he taunts, jutting his chin upwards.

“I’m not one of those girls, Nott. I’m not going to sleep with you to de-stress. Dream on.” 

He laughs, packing up his bag and heading for the door with you after storing away the potion for the next evening. “It’s funny how your mind immediately jumped to sleeping with me when I said absolutely nothing of the sort.”

“You alluded to it.”

“Did I?” His eyes dance with mischief in the torchlight as you make your way across the dungeon floor to the common room. “Do you have something you wish to confess, L/N?”

“No,” you snort. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if we were the last two people alive and the human race depended on it.”

Something flashed behind his eyes, but his haughty expression masked it before you could decipher what it might be. 

–––

Neither of you talked about what happened that night. Which was perfectly fine because you didn’t spend half the night tossing and turning and wondering what the blood hell even happened. 

No – Nothing happened.

Theo was one of your best friends and he was just… helping? It didn’t mean anything. Sure, there was that moment where you could’ve sworn he looked hurt when you stood up and scrambled out of his hold abruptly but – but that couldn’t have been right.

You and Theo were mates. 

Bantering and playfully flirting were part of that. 

Your internal anxieties over the interaction, however, presented in decidedly obvious external behavior changes that did not go unnoticed.

At breakfast, you bite your lip before taking the last seat available amongst your friends and try, with every fiber in your being, not to brush up against Theo as you slide into the seat.

“Morning,” you say.

“Morning.” Theo replies, just as drily.

For the most part, you believe you pulled it off, just like you have with every forced interaction with Theo since that night. Unfortunately, you would be very wrong.

Because when Theo leans across you to grab the syrup and his shoulder brushes against yours, you yelp loudly and nearly leap into the air.

Theo, likewise, overreacts and drops the syrup jar, causing the glass and sticky substance to splatter across everyone’s plates.

“Alright,” snaps Draco, grimacing at his syrup-coated fingers with disdain before glancing between the two of you. “What the hell is going on with you two? You’ve been acting very strange.”

“Yeah, what the bloody hell happened?” Demands Pansy, flicking her dark bob over her shoulders. “Did you two finally sleep together or something?”

“What?” 

“Yes,” remarks Theo, idly teaching for his wand and cleaning up the mess.

“No,” you glare at him before facing the others. “We did not sleep together. Fucking hell, Pans.”

“Well you should,” she replied.

“Can we please stop talking about my two best mates possibly shagging? I’m trying to eat here,” shuddered Draco.

Theo laughed and arched a dark brow at Draco.

“You jealous?”

“For your information, Nott, I get plenty of–”

“Cut it out!” You yell, standing up and preparing to leave. “If either of you think anyone here wants to hear about your sexual prowess then I will gladly inform you that you are mistaken. Grow up.”

As you bend to retrieve your bag from under the bench, you overhear Draco and Theo whisper to one another.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how mad do you think Y/N is with me because of that comment?”

“Nott, they haven’t invented a number high enough.”

Later that week in Runes, Theo drops silently into the seat beside you. You can feel his eyes on you, but rather than indulge him, you opt to stare blankly at the board. By the time you’ve read thrice all the way through, he clears his throat.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Figured that out all by yourself, did you?” You counter, still choosing not to meet his eye.

Halfway through the lesson, in which Theo remained suspiciously quiet, you sigh exasperatedly and whisper to him between copying translations into your notebook.

“I am mad at you. That was completely uncalled for the other day, when you said–”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Or, are you just bored of only having Draco to banter with and play tricks on?” Finally, you sneak a glance at him and catch a bit of color below his sharp cheekbones.

Good, you think. 

Let him be humbled. He deserves it.

–––

The common room is alive with nearly every student immersed in some form of entertainment. Draco suggests a round of exploding snaps and is met with plenty of enthusiasm from your friend group. 

Theo looks askance at you, and you bury your head further into your book.

For once, it’s not a textbook, and you would rather lose yourself in the fictional world than play a game with Theo.

He plucks your bookmark from the space on the floor between you two and surreptitiously starts to place it on your page.

“Come on, L/N, you’re joining in for a round or two, right?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“But it’s your favorite game.” He blinks, then tries for a mischievous smirk. “I’ll make it worth your while. How about we make a wager? If you win–”

“I said no, Nott.”

Draco lets out a low whistle, then begins the game.

You take the bookmark and place it away from his grasp, then resume reading even though you can’t help but feel a little elated that Theo thought of you. When he turns to face the game, you can’t help but notice that his heart doesn’t seem in it anymore and smile to yourself as you flip to the next page.

An hour or so later, you make your way from the common room and down the hall into the potions classroom. It’s quiet, and you take a moment to let the pleasant silence wash over you before retrieving your potion and checking on it one last time.

It was due tomorrow, and although you finished it a few days ago – in an incredibly awkward and tense session with Theo – you can’t help but take another look just to make sure. It had to be perfect.

“I figured I’d find you here.”

Theo stands in the doorway of the classroom; normally, he leans against bannisters and doorways with unfathomed arrogance and cool, but not this time. His shoulders are tense, and his long limbs are rigid. 

Slowly, he makes his way over to you, but despite the obvious height difference, he appears small.

“Everything’s perfect I presume? Just as we left it.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

He sighs, then turns on his heel and takes a hand through his hair.

“Fuck, L/N.” Theo makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a chuckle, then continues. “Everything is weird between us. What went wrong? What happened?”

“What happened?” You repeat, trying not to swoon at the familiar scent of parchment and pine needles that is characteristically Theo; something you don’t want to admit to yourself that you missed the past few weeks, but you did. “What happened, Nott, is that you have intimacy issues.”

“I have intimacy issues?” 

“Yes.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, L/N.”

“Hey,” you start defensively. “You’re the one who made things weird between us with your stupid unwinding technique.” 

“I was trying to be nice!” He argues, throwing his hands in the air. “Bloody hell, Y/N, you were so fucking stressed, so I just figured – You know what? That’s not on me. You’re the one who made it weird by pretending it didn’t happen at all afterward.”

“You didn’t talk about it either!”

“Because I could tell that you didn’t want to. Again, I was trying to be nice!” He inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly. “Listen, I know I said we slept together and that was wrong, but–”

“Oh, really?”

“Oi, I’m trying to apologize here,” he groans. “I feel bad enough about everything without you making it infinitely worse, alright? I deserve it, I know I do, but – just –”

Theo taps his fingers on his thigh, barely containing himself from visibly exploding. You can tell there’s something else he wants to say, so you stay quiet and let him tick, tick, tick like an exploding snap ready to fire. 

“I like you, ok?” Theo practically shouts, startling you. He, however, leans into the outburst. Words begin spilling out of his mouth so fast you almost struggle to string them together. He is turbulent water breaking through a dam. “I like you. I think I always liked you, Y/N. I just – We always fight and banter and mess around which is easy and nice. It makes it bearable, I think, to have you so close to me but also so far, but then – then you were in my fucking arms and I couldn’t – I can’t.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, fixated on his widened blue eyes.

“You were in my fucking arms, and then you weren’t.” Theo says, chest heaving. “I didn’t know badly I needed you in my life, like that, until that moment. Then you said that thing about never wanting to be with me even if we were the last two people on the planet and – and again at breakfast.” 

He paused momentarily to hold up his hands in surrender. 

“I know, fuck, I know I said some things that were uncalled for, but it was a joke. It was a stupid fucking joke because I couldn’t – I still can’t – bear the thought of you thinking of me like that. Like being with me is so unthinkable that you–”

Theo cuts himself off and finally looks away from you to stare at his feet. You take the brief respite to blink back the tears welling in your eyes.

“I hated when we were apart and I’m sorry, really truly sorry, for how I acted. I need you, Y/N. I didn’t know how badly I needed you until you were gone, and I swear I’ll never make that fucking mistake again. Fucking hell, can we please just go back to the way it was before?”

Finally, you take a deep breath and uncross your arms, wiping your slightly sweaty hands on your jumper.

“You want to go back to being friends?” You clarify.

Theo’s head snaps up. “Merlin’s beard, no. I don’t want that at all. I want – Err–”

“You want more?” You ask, and he nods, clenching his jaw as he awaits your response. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Well, I do.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Come here.”

“Seriously?”

“Nott, don’t make me say it again–”

But your words are lost in the night as Theo wastes no time taking you back in his arms, causing you to gasp as your feet leave the floor. His nose brushes against yours, and you close your eyes, inhaling the sweet smell of parchment and pine. 

“May I?” He asks, lips lingering dangerously close to yours as the words leave his lips. It takes every ounce of strength you have not to make a smartass retort; instead, you close the space between you and him as a way of response. 

The kiss is sweet, slow and romantic. It’s everything, and when it ends, you can’t imagine spending another minute of your life not kissing Theodore Nott. 

“Why haven’t we been doing this all along?” Theo says.

“We might have if you had simply said something rather than joke and mope like a complete child, Nott.” You counter with a derisive smirk to pair.

His breathy laugh skating across your flushed cheeks; his hands are trailing up and down your spine while your hands are conversely tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life.

“Salazar’s balls, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“No arguments here.” 

[arts-butthound]

Sense and Salarian Ability Chpt. 2

(Also read on  AO3 if you prefer, leave me a kind kudos if you like my work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537765/chapters/57317959#workskin )

After filing the paperwork for theft with C-sec, a week passed with no discernible action. Walking through the ward, to and from work, Lau would scan the mob of people for familiar faces. At times, he’d imagine he’d seen her, weaving through a crowd of much taller adults or disappearing into a vent. But when he’d turn to confirm the vision, she was gone with the steam and smoke of the vendors. A wisp of air passing through nothingness.  

             Lau shouldn’t have cared enough to still hunt for her. Despite the vulnerable feeling of being robbed, had he actually lost anything of value? It was a hunk of dried dirt that had escaped his grasp to make into anything. Yet he dreamed of it, vividly; the mediocre and stale curves that had taken him too long to piece together into a feeble attempt of replicating waves on the sea.  Lau had hated even looking at it. He asked himself why he still looked for its shards. He should be over this by now. A better salarian would have put the ordeal behind him. A better salarian would have given up on ineptitude and worked toward something more attainable. A respectable salarian would have…should have…

Lau’s fingers tightened around the handle of his mug.  He only half listened as his sister nattered on over the vid-com about one thing or another, adding only small confirmatory remarks if she asked for his input.  In front of him, on the table, several holo pads held shipping manifestos, bills, and requests from eager artists wishing to be displayed and sold in his gallery. None of it caught his interest, but he flipped through the paperwork to appear busy while in front of Nalano. She continued her tirade of a chore list to him and Lau turned his head toward the window, watching the blurred, colored lights of traffic whizz pass. “You’re going to be here, right Lau? Appearance is everything at events like this.”

“Yes, Ano. I’ve already made the arrangements.”  Lau took a drink of his tea, overlooking an artist’s plea for validation.  Being a turian upstart didn’t hurt, with the scarcity of the species style outside of turian space. Lau made a note to email the artist about further examples of his work.

             “Good. Zejaa will have you entertain some of our business partners. I expect you to be busy currying favors.” Since their mother had died a few years back, Lau’s boss of a sister had taken charge of their branch of the family. Wielding her feminine power with an iron will and steel forged words, she had further built their branch’s influence in clan politics. Now that their cousin was formally becoming the clan’s Dalatrass, Nalano’s power would grow tenfold. The two had been as thick as the dense jungle trees that wove around one another since childhood.

“-as is custom, I know.”  Lau droned. “Relax  Ano, things will go off without a hitch on my end.”

Nalano smiled and Lau got the feeling that if she could pet his cheek, as their mother had done when she was pleased, Nalano would have done so. “Dependable Lau. You never make trouble for me. Azik may not be able to come at all because of his partner and I still need to find a back up babyitter.” She paused for a moment with a cleansing breath. “ I’ll speak further with you another time.” Nalano hung up, leaving Lau in the abrupt silence of his dark apartment. He closed the holo-pads and stowed them in his work satchel. Standing up, he moved into the kitchen to replenish his tea, robotically.

Dependable Lau.

He decided against more tea.

Looking at the clock, Lau grabbed his satchel and gazed into the hall mirror. Clean faced, suit nearly without flaw, Lau flattened his collar with a flare of gravitas and feigned importance. He stared into his own eyes, avoiding the dark uniformity in his peripheral vision. Today was a new circle. Lau locked the front door behind him. It was a brisk, cool, walk to the Nasurn Gallery, consisting of fifteen, maybe thirty minutes on a bad day.  Lau’s focus remained on the crowds and the pavement, intent on not looking for the ghost of the duct rat that he’d never see again. It felt good to stretch his shoulders and his legs this morning.

When he walked through the back door, Lau was greeted by a hellish heat and the rhythmic and scattered ringing sound of a hammer meeting steel. Behind the wall ahead, Eramanthe cursed loudly as the ringing ceased once again. The salarian rolled his eyes as he flipped on the ceiling venting system. She always forgot about the fans on her work days.  Lau wondered if she’d been born on an arid world far off in Asari Space. Walking up behind her, he could almost see it. As a young girl, she would be a sun burnt baby-building sand castles in a desert long after she should have gone inside to her mother. She could have been a chubby little thing, running with wild abandon just to feel the sand rush in between her toes. Maybe her family went on beach trips to escape the heat by way of a breeze coming off the water. The intense temperatures hardly seemed to bother the woman.

The work shop was empty today, with the other sculptures pushed far into the walls in order to give the asari room to work. The forge burned with a blinding yellow, illuminating the massive metal behemoth beside it that had stolen Eramanthe’s sleep for weeks now. She twisted the arms of the galactic community together and in the center of their outreaching palms, Eramanthe planned to plant a miniature of the Citadel. The theme was a little predictable for Lau’s taste, but her results were worth a bit of cliché. With metal and her biotics, Eramanthe’s figures felt like they could move and breathe on their own. They had the soft bend of skin and muscle that caressed the viewer’s attention.  Of life’s soft and tender emotions, Eramanthe caste them in metal and polished them to a mirror shine.

Her sculpture still lacked a hand or two, missing the drell, turians, and vorcha. Why Eramanthe insisted on putting the vorcha in there was beyond Lau. It wasn’t as if they added anything to galactic culture. On the work bench laid the disembodied hand of the turians. “I like what you’re doing with the seams there, Era. But this looks a little aggressive compared to the others.” Lau quipped, looking at the hand from over her shoulder. She nursed a small burn on the outside of her thumb and groaned in miserable agreement.

“I think some of real life is bleeding into the piece.” Eramanthe collapsed into a nearby chair with her eyes closed and head tilted back. “Maybe I just need to…step back for a while.”

Lau moved closer to the metal hand. The iconic turian talons were uncut and vicious looking, unlike most of Eramanthe’s works in which they were trimmed with a rounded edge. The hand was flexed as if it were a predator that was about to strike. “Fighting with Cassias?” Lau mused, watching as Eramanthe ground her palms into her temples.

“I think we’re going to break up, Lau. He’s just…so….so-” Her hands flexed and clawed at the air, veins popping from the skin.

Lau inched away from Eramanthe’s rage. “Uncompromising?”

The asari sunk lower into the chair, crossing her arms and legs with sharp angry movements.  “He’s too conforming. Too restrictive! Imagine what he’d do to our girls with that kind of attitude! He’d ruin them!”

“If he lived long enough, that is.” Lau said to himself. Eramanthe shot daggers at him from her seat; her entire face looking like she’d tasted something sour. “Hey-look at me.” the curator defended, jabbing a finger into his abdominal hood. “I get to make that joke! Besides, Cassias isn’t a young man anyway. You can do better, age wise.” Lau retracted said finger as Eramanthe transferred her glare from him to the ceiling. He scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes back to the metal hand on the table. Quietly, he said “The hand should be salvageable. You only need to loosen the fingers and cut down on the talons. It should be fine.”

Eramanthe stretched out of the seat, pushing it to its two back legs. “I want babies, Lau. I want them real bad.” She rocked back and forth on the chairs legs.  

Lau briefly ran his hand across the metal arm on the table, feeling its heat slowly ebbing out into his palm. He turned to face her, “I mean, you can get kids without keeping the father around. Isn’t that what you asari do?” Lau snickered as Eramanthe threw her balled up sweat rag at his head. It was a bull’s-eye mark, hitting Lau square in between his horns.

“Been digging up cultural weaknesses to report back to your Union, salarian?” Eramanthe grinned toothily; brows narrowed. “Or is it just for a busy-body Dalatrass?” The two smiled at one another from their opposing sides of the room, Eramanthe’s eyes a bit brighter than they were a minute ago. She was prettier when she smiled.  Lau found that glowering only made Eramanthe’s particularly round face look like a withering gourd, melting and squashing into unintelligible shapes. Yet, the way she held herself was still slumped over. She hugged herself, hands wrapped around her elbows and a clouded faraway look in her eye.

Lau placed a hand on her shoulder and returned the sweat rag to her expecting hand. “Personally, I don’t see the draw.” He said, “But you’re determined enough, Era. You’ll be putting aside all your passions and career to raise a brood of crass girls in no time.” Era shook her head, ignoring the salarian’s distaste of the idea.

             The tinkling of the bell above the door in the parlor rang and the two shared a glance. The sound of the bell was more of a whisper; like a shameful, slow outcry that begged not to be heard and hoped to go unnoticed.  Though not unheard of, it was rare for patrons or guests to come to the gallery before noon. When Lau didn’t hear the sound of the door closing behind the bell, the pores of his skin tightened around the base of his bulbous skull. His feet led him cautiously to the front room, with a straight back and stern countenance. There he saw, mirrored in the glassy flooring, two very unwelcome duct rats. They stared wide eyed at him, crouching over some foreign object on the floor. One held the door slightly ajar, just enough to slip back through without sounding the bell once again. Letting out a small growl, Lau lurched toward the girls. He wrenched the door from the asari’s hand and slammed it shut before the two could escape his grasp once again. A sickly, burning anger broiled in his belly.

“You two” Lau spat “are in very big trouble!” The human girl with the pale eyes started fidgeting spasmastically, her hands flying around her face and chest while her mouth opened and closed like a fish left out in the sun. She constantly looked back at her companion, who quaked in fear as she tried to pry the door open. The human’s hands clawed toward Lau in a beseeching manner. Her mind was slower than an elcor’s walk in the garden, it would seem, as her mouth had nothing to say but the smacking of a dry tongue. Lau watched her in disgust. The little pest who had been a blight upon him for too long did not measure up to the scheming, malicious whelp that he had pictured; but rather was a simpleton with less to offer of herself than a vorcha mercenary.

“N-no.” the human sputtered out, finally clutching and pulling at her shirt as if something were missing in her pockets. “No. I’m sorry…uh-uh-uh. Vey…” the sounds were strangled in her throat before she could get them out.

Eramanthe came into the room, looking at the two children and then meeting the fire in Lau’s eyes with the surprise inside her own. “Lock these two down, Era. I’m getting C-sec down here.” Lau ordered. He leaned his weight against the door to keep the two in and pulled up his omni-tool. The human child looked as if she were about to cry, her breathing shallow and fast.

“Wait, old man!” begged the young asari, beginning to wrestle Lau’s arm away from the fingers that threatened her freedom. “She just came to say sorry. That’s all! Don’t call the blues!”

“Lau” Era interjected slowly, gliding across the floor.

“What are you waiting for, Era? Use your biotics on these degenerates already!” the salarian ordered.

While Lau fought against the younger asari, Eramanthe’s attention was trained on the human. The girl bit at her lip and looked as if she were chastising herself, her gaze intent on trying to tell the salarian anything. When the human grasped at the small object on the floor, Eramanthe’s mouth slid up into a small smile, “Lau, hang on a sec.” With quiet panic, the human girl carefully shoved a piece of board into Lau’s chest. The girls stumbled back as he let go of the asari child, steadying each other.

It was his worthless piece Lau realized, looking at the clay turning and swirling upward from the board. It had been patched back together with cheap craft clay, nary a crack showing…despite the differing shade of color of the clay he’d used and what she’d used. There were juvenile fixes to curves and shapes that…actually worked. The edges had been softened where he had made sharp turns, not to a fantastic degree, but enough to make a difference. There were unfortunate blobs of dried glue in places-but there had been an attempt to hide them with similar clay blobs in varying places. They almost looked like bubbles-in an amateur sort of way. Lau stared at it in silence. He refused to believe that a duct rat, with no form of education outside of anything but ducking the law, could have put together the pieces so intuitively. Despite himself, the salarian found himself impressed.

“Sorry I broke it.” The little human said, drawing the attention of the two adults once more. “I tried to fix it.” She toyed with one of her fingers, not making eye contact with anyone in the room.

             Eramanthe pawed at the sculpture from around Lau’s arm. “You did a good job blurring the lines where the old material and new meet.” She drew her hand away, rubbing her fingers together. The brownish coloring had stained her skin-a sign of cheap mock clay. It smelled mostly of salt.

“You did this?” Lau sounded more like he was accusing her than asking. The girl nodded slowly, nervously. The asari child had started inching toward the now unattended door.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Eramanthe squatted down to meet the duct rat’s eye level. She held out her hand warmly toward the girl. Lau looked at his friend as if she were crazy.

“Um…uh-Tegan” the human looked at Eramanthe’s offered hand as if she were offered credits and tentatively reached out-

Her hand was snatched out of the air by her companion, who whispered a firm “Come on.” before turning towards the adults with a tight, polite grimace. “Sorry, we gotta go now. We won’t bother you again.” She pulled the human girl with her, the two scurrying out the door before another word could be spoken. The human’s eyes caught in the glass window.

Lau passed the rest of the day in uneasy silence.  The duct rat’s appearance rattled his core, as did the sudden appearance of his failed bobble-fixed and childishly improved.  In a corner of his office, sitting on an aged couch, Eramanthe had resumed toying with the small sculpture after having called it a day on her own piece.  He only found irritation in watching her curious twists and turns and Lau’s jaw tightened until it threatened to never move again.  Lau found himself actively looking at his hand to avert his gaze from her-watching the tendons and muscles flow underneath his copper-toned skin as hands flew across his keyboard in feeble attempt of distraction. Answering these emails was always how he ended the day. But today, the hollow weight of routine threatened to crush Lau beneath it.

“You know what, Lau?” Eramanthe purred, finally setting the sculpture down in her lap. To Lau’s chagrin, she continued to pet at it absently. His head turned toward her like rusted machinery. “This is actually pretty promising now! It reminds me of some of some of your old college work that you’ve showed me-”

Lau pressed the palms of his hands to the desk, in a knee jerk reaction. “WHAT?” he hissed, “It looks absolutely nothing like my old works!”

“I mean energy wise, you angry little squit.” Eramanthe waved off his reaction. “Look at this, really I mean!” Reluctantly, Lau watched it from the corner of his eye. The form was a confusion of will and intention. It drew upon a ghost of a memory before Lau shoved it back down into the dark recesses of his mind. “There’s so much enthusiasm!” Eramanthe continued to cheer.

“It looks like its being pulled apart by different ideas of what it’s supposed to be.” Lau muttered darkly.

“Sure. But that shouldn’t bother you of all people. I mean, that kind of look helped you graduate, right?” Eramanthe’s shrug caused boulders to fall upon Lau’s spine. He stared intently at wood grain of his desk. She continued to speak but he chose to tune her out.

Pushing the chair back, Lau walked to Eramanthe and took up the sculpture, his fingers threatening to crack the wooden board. “It’s hardly even my work anymore. So it has nothing in common with what I used to do.” He opened up a cabinet, shoved the thing deep onto a shelf, and closed the door. The offensive object finally out of sight, Lau felt he could breathe again.

“Oh, squirt lube up your cloacae and loosen up, man.” Eramanthe crossed her arms and scowled. “The kid did good work.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Lau returned to his desk, resuming his evening work.

“I think she has potential worth nourishing!”

“She’s not an orphaned varren whelp, Era. Leave it be.”

“When she comes back, we should see what else she can do!”

“ERA! STOP!” Lau shouted. Her enthusiasm was too much for Lau. He collapsed back onto his chair, resting his head on the cool wood of his desk. Eramanthe was on her feet, glaring daggers at him. “Just…please.” the salarian took a deep breath, trying to clear the tight muscles in his head. “Yes. Admirable though it is that she came back, it doesn’t change what happened. Now I’d appreciate it if you let this finally drop. Period!”

             The quiet between the two hung stagnant in the air. Suffocating. Claustrophobic. The unrelenting automated clicking sounds of Lau’s haptic keypad signaled that the salarian was done talking. Eramanthe scowled as she stood, readjusting her clothes. “Okay, Lau.” She padded towards the door, her boots hanging from her shoulder on laces tied together. “I’m going home. You should too. Sleep off that attitude, maybe.”

Alone again. Lau hung his head in his hands, clicking off from his emails. What a disaster.

[angryschnauzer]

Stuck - Steve Rogers edition

A/N: By popular request, and i thank everyone that messaged me and sent me asks if i would consider releasing a second edition of ‘Stuck’ but with a Marvel character, i give you ‘Stuck - Steve Rogers edition’.  (You can read the Henry Cavill character ‘August Walker edition’ here.) In future i will consider dual-releases of more stories, where the narrative works for various fandoms. If there is any of my back catalogue you would like to see written as a different fandom, drop me an ask!

Summary: You are Steve Rogers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament Steve takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Chris Evans, Marvel, Captain America

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, Daddy Kink (this version DOES contain it).

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Stuck

 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

 “Good afternoon Captain Rogers”

 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the Avengers and the agents and staff that worked for Shield. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Captain Rogers apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 

 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

 You nodded;

 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”

 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 

 Captain Rogers both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a t-shirt two sizes too small on and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 

 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that the Captain thankfully had good aim.

 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Captain Rogers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking Golden Retriever. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

 Captain Rogers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining him fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that beard felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Captain Rogers…

 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

 -

 Five minutes ago.

 Steve sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once Shield had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 

 Steve Rogers had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. Steve Rogers was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 

 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

 -

 “Captain!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 

 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”

 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 

 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 

 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 

 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

 “Excited, are we?”

 “Please Captain…”

 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

 “Please fuck me”

 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

 “Please Daddy…”

 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”

 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 

 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 

 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 

 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

 “Captain!”

 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

 “No… no…”

 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 

 -

 Steve wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 

 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 

 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 

 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… Shield… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

 Turning you nodded;

 “Yes Captain”

 “Oh, you can call me Daddy now, I did so like that little slip you made in the heat of the moment” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

 -

 In the hallway Steve watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

PART 2 >>>

[borathae]

↳ Index [#05 Act Five: Friends]

Warnings: none unless you count the fluffiest feels ever as dangerous lmao

Wordcount: 7.8k

Just like you had figured, you don't see Yoongi for the rest of the week. Waiting for him on the bridge when the sun rises and later when the moon shines above your head has become a daily thing for you. He never shows up. You soon give up running down to the bakery at exactly seven twenty in hopes of bumping into him as Yoongi never shows his face in the cozy bakery again. Walking down the hallways of the school soon changes, now you are walking down the hallways when students are scurrying about and the sun still shines high above your head instead of sharing silence with the night. 

You lock your phone after having changed the song from one of Debussy's sonatas to your new favourite song. You don't need to listen to the play of someone else and be constantly reminded of what you had destroyed. You flinch at the sudden feeling of someone tapping your shoulder. You turn around with held breath. Is it perhaps Yoongi, who has decided to finally talk to you again? 

"Hello ___", Taehyung greets you with a bright boxy smile. 

"Hello Taehyung", you retort, feeling just the slightest bit disappointed. You had really hoped for him to be Yoongi.

"How has your day been up until now?" he asks, still as brightly as ever.

He has a funny way of wording things, so utterly unique, just like him. 

"It was fine, thanks for asking. How about you?" 

"Oh well, you know, quite unexciting really, but I didn't come here to have small talk with you. Of course we can still have small talk if you want to." 

You chuckle. 

"But the actual reason I wanted to talk to you is Yoongi." 

Your smile drops, your body tenses. 

"I talked to him." 

Your heart starts to race, swallowing gets hard. 

"And? Don't leave me hanging like this." 

Taehyung snorts at your impatience.

"Well, I have good and bad news for you. Which one do you want to hear first?" 

"I don't know. The bad one?" 

"Uuhm, okay so", Taehyung clears his throat, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "do you perhaps want to sit down?"

He points at a bench just a few steps away from you. Your heartbeat quickens even more, your hands trembling. 

"S-sure?" 

The two of you sit down. Your nervousness gets worse, now that you are sitting next to him and wait for the bad news. Does Taehyung assume you will break down once you hear them? Are they actually that bad? 

Taehyung clears his throat again to get your attention. You look at him with big eyes, he looks tense. 

"I, I couldn't-", he sighs in frustration, "he didn't promise me that he will start playing again." 

Your heart feels like it had dropped straight down onto the floor, leaving you empty and aching. This is exactly what you didn't want to happen. 

"And, and the good news?" you ask weakly. 

Taehyung scoffs as if your question had reminded him of something, which had made him laugh before. 

"The good news is that he actually heard me out. He neither closed the door on me nor did he tell him to leave him alone, which is great. So there is like a thirty percent chance that he will think about my words and start playing again." 

You let out a sigh of relief you hadn't even realized you had held in. So not all is lost yet, there is still hope for everything to return to normal again. 

"This is good, right?" 

Taehyung nods, smiling. 

"It is good, Yoongi may seem like he doesn't listen to you or that he doesn't care, but deep down he takes in every single word you tell him and actually thinks about them. So this is good news." 

Taehyung sighs in content and relaxes on the bench, stretching out his long arms on the length of the backrest. They reach past you, but Taehyung sits far enough away from you that you know he doesn't mean it in a flirty way. It is just his way of relaxing. 

"Thank you Taehyung, I really mean it. I was so scared that I ruined something beautiful and you were able to actually talk to him. Thank you", you say honestly. 

Taehyung turns his head, looking at you. His eyes sparkle in the orange street lights, his dark hair seems even darker, his golden skin more golden. 

"Don't mention it", he seems shy in the way his eyes flit to the ground for just a moment. "I want Yoongi to start playing again just as much as you do." 

"I can imagine, you must miss listening to him."

"What? Me? Listening to him?"

Taehyung laughs loudly, shaking his head no. 

"I have never listened to him before, he never let me even if I asked nicely." 

Your eyes grow big. 

"You never listened to him before? But aren't you friends?" you gasp.

Taehyung shrugs his shoulders. 

"Yeah we are, but I don't think Yoongi trusts me enough to actually allow me to listen to him. You have to understand him ___, it's surely not easy constantly having to feel like he does." 

"Yeah, I can imagine", you don't dare to say more, frankly feeling lost for the right words. Poor Yoongi.

Taehyung studies your face for a moment, biting his lip in contemplation.

“Hey ___, don’t be sad right now”, he taps your shoulder brotherly, “Everything will turn out alright, I promise.”

You look at him, feeling hopeless. His eyes however sparkle in hopefulness.

“Just give him some time and I am sure he will start playing again”, he tells you, now fully holding onto your shoulder, shaking you softly.

His comfort feels nice, relaxing your tense muscles.

“I hope so”, you mumble, lowering your head.

Jimin groans in frustration, letting himself fall down on one of the chairs. He brushes his hair out of his face, staring at Jungkook with empty eyes.

“How often do I need to tell you not to interrupt me when I’m singing the last line? It’s annoying and you overshadow my high note with your ad-libs”, he whines, letting his head fall back to showcase his frustration.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t help it. I just think my ad-libs give that line more emotion. Your high note is nice yeah, but something is missing”, Jungkook defends himself.

Jimin sends Jungkook an annoyed glare, rolling his eyes afterwards.

The three of you have signed up for a group vocal competition and it seemed like a great idea in the beginning. You knew your voices would go perfect together from the many improvised sessions down by the pond, but actual practice turned out to be completely different. Bickering seems to be your constant companion, there was always someone who wasn’t happy with how the song turns out. Right now Jimin is quite upset about Jungkook’s constant ad-libs, wanting to shine for a change.

“You are such an attention seeker do you know that?” he growls.

“I’m an attention seeker? Says the person who practically has a whole praise kink”, Jungkook retorts.

Jimin gasps, holding his hand over his heart as if hurt deeply by Jungkook’s words.

“What’s so wrong with liking praise?”

You step between them all of a sudden, raising your hands.

“Alright, as much fun watching you bicker is, we have things to do. The competition is in one month and we still have a long way to go, so can you two please quit it and concentrate?” you say.

“But he always interrupts me”, Jimin whines, pouting.

“Yeah? Because it sounds better that way”, Jungkook growls, stepping closer to you and Jimin.

You stop him from towering over Jimin with a firm hand on his chest, sending him a warning glare.

“Kookie don’t, please”, you say sternly.

Jungkook closes his mouth, swallowing down the complaint he had wanted to throw at your head. He avoids looking into your eyes, staring into Jimin’s instead.

“I’m sorry ___”, he mumbles.

“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

Jungkook sighs in frustration.

“I’m sorry Jimin”, he mumbles.

Jimin grins triumphantly, glowing in happiness over his win. That is until you send him a warning glare, reminding him to do the same to Jungkook.

Jimin raises his eyebrow, shaking his head. Your glare grows colder, making Jimin swallow.

“And I’m sorry too, Jungkook”, he finally murmurs with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Great”, you clap your hands, “now that you two are acting like adults again, how about we try to find a solution for everything?” you suggest, walking to a chair and sitting down on it.

Jungkook follows your action, sitting down next to you.

“What do you have in mind?” Jimin asks, perking an eyebrow.

“Okay, so I have to say Jungkook is right, ad-libs really do add to the emotion of the line.”

Jimin groans, Jungkook grins.

“But I also think it is important that Jimin gets his time to shine. His falsetto is beautiful, we shouldn’t overshadow it.”

Now Jimin grins, Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“So how about we sing the first chorus without Jungkook’s ad-libs and in the second chorus Jungkook sings his ad-libs. By doing that we add suspense, you know the audience won’t expect the song to get even more emotional after already crying from Jimin’s beautiful high note and then BAM! the ad-libs come and the audience will lose it. Just imagine it.”

Jimin and Jungkook had listened to you intently, nodding their heads and humming in approval.

“We could make the song even more emotional by doing that”, Jimin mumbles, scratching his chin.

“Yeah exactly, the audience won’t expect it and will be blown away”, you say.

“This sounds like a good plan actually”, Jungkook murmurs nodding, “I like it, I really do.”

“Yeah I like it too”, Jimin agrees.

You smile triumphantly, patting both of their thighs.

“Great, I’m glad I could help”, you say.

You stand up from the chair.

“You ready to practice again?” you ask.

Jungkook stands up, nodding.

“I am, let’s do this”, he says, making you scoff in amusement.

Jimin stands up, resting his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Me too, let’s get to work. I feel so energized.”

You practice until the sun had disappeared behind the forest and the hallways became empty. Only when Jungkook’s voice cracks for the fifth time in a row and Jimin can’t seem to hit the high note, you know that practice is over for tonight. You clean up, write down your names on the list and leave the practice room, feeling totally accomplished.

“I need to drink some honey tea at home”, you say, rubbing your tired throat.

“Yeah me too, this was such a great session”, Jungkook says before taking a big sip of his water.

“I didn’t even notice that the sun has gone down already”, Jimin says, shuddering all of a sudden, “god, these hallways give me the creeps”, he whispers, looking around with scared eyes.

It is the first time you are with them at this late hour, normally it would have just been you walking down the hallways with Yoongi’s music accompanying you. But tonight Jimin and Jungkook were your company and as always the night is silent. The practice room seems to be empty when you pass it, despite the door being open. Someone must have forgotten to close it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you if someone decides to attack us with knives”, Jungkook says, throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“Why would you say that?” Jimin whines, hitting Jungkook’s chest.

You laugh at their banter, despite your heart aching to hear to familiar melodies of Yoongi. You cross the corner, the staircase is already in sight, a street lamp shines directly onto it.

“I hate this so much, it’s so creepy. If a ghost attacks us I’ll literally cry”, Jimin whispers.

“Sure because there is such a thing as gho-“, Jungkook starts only to choke on his words.

Suddenly as if the universe had heard your prayers a single piano note rings through the hallways. Another note follows, louder than before. The three of you stop, listening with held breath.

“Holy shit there is someone here”, Jimin whispers, clutching onto Jungkook’s arm.

“Okay what the hell?” Jungkook murmurs, seeming panicky himself.

“This is not how I’ll die, oh my god, oh god”, Jimin pants, hiding his face in Jungkook’s sweater.

You however can’t hide your smile, your heart starting to race in your chest. As if a spark had lit a candle, the hallway starts to glow around you in the warm, familiar light you had missed so much. A melody, one you had never heard before, spins its invisible thread to your heart, connecting the parts that were broken. Light, you feel light, like flying on a cloud above high mountains and green valleys. Home, this feels like home. 

“This can’t be”, you breathe.

Jungkook and Jimin look at you, surprised.

Your whole body feels like it is burning, your heart races in your chest, butterflies dance in your stomach. There is only one person who could make you feel like that, whose music could make you feel invincible. 

Yoongi. 

“I need to go”, you say, not even hiding the sob that follows.

You turn on your heels, running down the hallways back to the piano room, abandoning a baffled Jimin and an equally surprised Jungkook.

Yoongi actually listened to Taehyung! Despite never promising anything, he kept his word! You feel a hot tear roll down your cheek. He is back, he is playing again. Another tear rolls down your cheek. You feel so happy. So, so happy.

With held breath you step through the threshold of the piano room, gazing at the black haired pianist. He is just as beautiful as you remember him to be. His hair, as dark as the night sky, hangs into his face, covering his eyebrows. His hood he has pulled back, exposing all of his delicate features. His cheeks glow underneath the white moonlight, not an ounce of his endearing rosy blush is currently on them. Your heart does somersaults in your chest at this point, your finger shaking with the desire to trace his cute button nose and his doll-like lips. You missed this so much, it's ridiculous.

You don't move closer however, clearing your throat instead. Nothing, Yoongi’s eyes stay closed and his fingers keep moving over the keys. You already feel bad for stopping him, he plays as beautifully as ever. The notes seem to dance around him, singing him the most beautiful lullaby ever. How come you have never heard this melody before? Did Yoongi think of it? It almost seems like he did. What must he be feeling right now? The melody seems sad, as if it yearns for something to come and relieve its pain. Your chest feels heavy, the melody makes you feel all the heartache he must be thinking of right now. 

You need to reach out to him, tell him that everything will be okay. Even if this means having to stop him.  

You break the distance between the two of you, tiptoeing to the piano. Your eyes land on his face, your breath catching in your throat. He looks even more beautiful up close, now that he isn’t overcome by nerves and hides his face underneath a hood. His lashes are long, resting against his fair skin. His lips are a beautiful rosy shade, it almost looks like he is wearing lipstick. Pretty.

God you feel awful having to stop him and ruin this moment.

“Yoongi?” you say.

Yoongi flinches, his fingers slip off the keys, a shrill note rings through the room. He looks up and looks away again in an instance, getting shy.

“You again”, he sounds small.

"Yeah", you scratch your neck awkwardly, "I know I'm not supposed to be here and I promise I didn't lurk outside the door or anything."

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at his sheet music in embarrassment from getting caught playing.

"But I just needed to tell you that I'm so happy to hear you play again." 

Yoongi looks up for the briefest of moments. 

"I'm glad that you didn't give up, I really am." 

Yoongi nods his head, clenching his hands into fists. 

"Oh and also I never had the courage to tell you, but I think your play is really amazing. That song you just played? It was one of the most beautiful pieces I have ever heard." 

Yoongi looks at you from the corners of his eyes. His lips start to twitch. Is he trying to hide his smile right now? You feel hopeful, maybe you finally got through to him.

“It’s not, not r-really, b-but thank you”, he murmurs.

He is holding his own hand, clutching onto it for support. 

“Well, I think it’s beautiful. You really have a talent for making the music seem so alive. You don’t just play it like the sheet music tells you to, you give it emotion, a character, its own voice.”

This time around Yoongi can’t hide his smile, his lips twitch up just the slightest bit. His cheeks become the beautiful rosy shade you had missed so much. His eyes almost seem to sparkle as if stars were dancing in them.

“Y-you think so?”

You nod your head and send him a reassuring smile.

"I do, I really do. I felt so sad whilst listening to it, like I needed nothing more on this world than a warm hug." 

Yoongi tenses up, his hands clench into fists. His head lowers, his eyebrows creasing. You swallow down the words you had wanted to say, watching him with worried eyes. He looks so heartbroken.

Yoongi takes his sheet music, pressing it to his chest, before he stumbles to his feet. He is running away again. This is not good. He circles the piano, walking to the opened door in big steps. Silly you has done it again.

“No, wait! I’m sorry if I said something that made you uncomfortable”, you say rushing after him, “Please don’t go. Please”, you plead, reaching for his arm only to grab air when he suddenly turns around. 

He looks directly into your eyes, despite his nerves killing him and his mind telling him to just run away again. But something stops him, as if an invisible string was tugging at his heart, pulling him closer and closer to you. He can't seem to run away, even if he tried to. 

“W-why are y-you so ni-nice to me?” he is fidgeting with his sheet music.

“Because you look like someone, who could need a friend.”

Yoongi blinks rapidly.

“A frie-“, Yoongi doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he needs to take a shaky breath.

“Yes, a friend, someone you can lean on. And if you want me to I would love to be that person for you”, you send him an honest smile.

You take a step closer to him, holding your breath. Yoongi’s eyes race between yours, he is gnawing on his lower lips, his whole face burning up. His heavy breathing and your racing heart is the only thing you can hear in the quiet room. Despite the darkness of the night, you can still see each other clearly, as if something magical was illuminating him and you. The air feels tense, suffocating you.

“I-I don’t know, m-maybe”, his voice is hushed breaking the silence. 

Your mouth falls open, your eyes grow big.

"Wait. Really?" you gasp. 

Yoongi locks eyes with you again, they sparkle even more than before. He nods his head yes. 

Warmth like that of a summer’s sun floods your chest, filling the rest of your body with happiness.

“Great”, your voice cracks like the giddy idiot you are. You clear your throat, “So that’s settled. I’m ___ by the way”, you close the remaining distance between you and him and stretch out your hand.

Yoongi stares at it for a moment not daring to move. He doesn’t accept it, instead he bows at you, bending his upper body to ninety degree.

“Yoongi", he says, smiling softly once he looks up.

You take a deep breath, turning to the lecture hall. This is going to be the first time you are going to see Yoongi after you officially decided to be friends. You haven't been able to talk a lot after that night, you were too busy practicing with Jimin and Jungkook and Yoongi was nowhere to be found on campus (as always). And with your late night practices missing (you couldn’t get Jimin and Jungkook to go into the school at night again, they were both convinced you had been possessed by a ghost after the last encounter and really didn’t want to risk it again) you also weren't able to visit him after finishing. So of course you were nervous to see him again, mostly because of the fear that he had changed his mind about your friendship. 

You step into the lecture hall. It takes you a moment to scan over the rows of people, looking for the black haired man. Your eyes suddenly land on him. His headphones tangle from his ears, his hands clutch the corner of the table, but he doesn't look so tense today. His head is raised, moving from left to right as if he is looking for something. Or someone.

Yoongi’s eyes scan over you, they fall on another person before they become bigger, snapping back to you. He has found you.

Yoongi’s lips twitch up into a tiny smile, his cheeks become rosy. He raises his left hand. He waves at you, it's not a big wave just one especially for your eyes to see. 

You break into the biggest grin ever, your heart feels like exploding in your chest. You wave back at him. So he didn't change his mind. 

You have never been faster up the stairs and by his seat than today, taking three steps at a time. Yoongi never stops watching you, following you with his eyes. 

"Hey how are you?" you sit down next to him, turning your body to his. 

"Hey, I'm g-good", Yoongi says. He looks away for the briefest of moments, "and y-you?" he looks back at you, keeping his eyes just the tiniest bit lowered. 

"I'm also good, thanks for asking. Save for the fact that we have to listen to Mister Kim ramble about Beethoven's cousins for two hours straight now." 

Yoongi smiles, lowering his head in bashfulness. He doesn't want you to see that you made him giggle, it's too embarrassing. 

"I, I, I h-have-", he stops to take a breath. 

He is gnawing on his bottom lip, blushing. 

"Take your time", you encourage him. 

Yoongi takes another deep breath. 

"I-I have something f-for you", he mumbles. 

"For me?" you gasp, surprised. 

Yoongi nods, before he turns on the chair. He turns back to you, now holding a white paper cup in his hand.

"For you. C-coffee." 

He hands it to you, pulling back instantly in order to avoid any unplanned skin on skin contact. 

It is cold, Yoongi must have had it for some time. Its smell is mouth watering, rich and deep.

You can’t stop smiling whilst staring at the white paper cup in your hands. So he got you coffee. It feels as if thousands of butterflies flutter in your stomach, your cheeks heating up. 

"Thank you so much, wow", you breathe. 

Yoongi nods his head once, not daring to look into your eyes as he is far too shy to do so.

You take a sip of the coffee. Yoongi watches you through his bangs, staring at your lips. It tastes delicious, it has a rich coffee flavor, the milk tastes creamy with a hint of vanilla.

“Wow this tastes so good, it’s exactly what I needed right now”, you gush, taking another sip.

Yoongi blushes even more, smiling softly. He looks at his notepad, taking his pen to play with. He needs it to ease his nerves right now.

“At least now I won’t be falling asleep in the lecture like I feared”, you joke.

Yoongi smiles brighter, biting the tip of his tongue to keep himself from giggling out loud.

“I-I’m glad I c-could help”, he murmurs, his voice sounds happy.

Sadly Mister Kim struts through the door just a moment later, interrupting your conversation. You soon notice Yoongi’s big interest in today’s topic, his eyes are glued to the professor, his lips slightly parted without him even noticing. He scribbles down everything the professor talks about, staining his fingers in black ink. His notes are chaotic, his writing hurried and unreadable, but to Yoongi they seem perfect. His interest in the topic seems to be contagious, you soon find yourself listening to the professor with curious eyes. At some point you even start to write down what the professor says, scribbling little drawings in between sentences whenever your mind seems to black out for a moment. But you keep listening, always taking in the words Mister Kim says, you really don’t want to risk not being able to talk about the topic with Yoongi after the lecture ends.

Yoongi doesn’t stand up once the lesson is over. He keeps seated, his hands hidden between his legs and his eyes seemingly looking at the board. You however know that he is watching you, waiting for you to make the first move.

“The lesson was really interesting today, don’t you think?” you ask whilst storing your notepad in your bag.

Yoongi tenses up for a moment before he relaxes again. He nods. You can see him fumble with the fabric of his pants.

“Thank you again for the coffee. It made me feel so energized”, you say, waving the now empty paper cup in the air.

Yoongi’s cheeks heat up, he removes his hands from between his legs to scratch the back of his neck.

“I, I got it f-from the b-bakery”, he confesses, he seems almost embarrassed.

But the bakery is thirty minutes away. That means that he actually carried them with him all the way to the school. You find yourself flustering, not being able to hide your smile.

“You didn’t need to do that, it must have been such a bother.”

Yoongi shakes his head vigorously.

“No, i-it’s okay. I, I liked t-the walk”, he looks at you, “it was nice g-getting a, a b-break from school.”

So Yoongi spent his break between lessons to get coffee for you. This, you hadn’t expected. You had expected him to have no lessons before your shared lecture and come here straight from home. But you hadn’t expected him to actually walk thirty minutes to the bakery and then back to the school again. Oh dear, your heart is racing so much.

“You didn’t have to do that”, you gasp.

Yoongi’s eyes grow big, a look of panic flickering in them.

“I,I-“, he swallows, “I’m sorry, I, I d-didn’t want t-to, to-“, he quickly jumps up to walk out of the lecture hall and get out of his embarrassment.

He knew getting you coffee would be too much. Stupid mouth, why did he have to mention that he went to the bakery. Now you will think he is a total weirdo.

He can hear you follow him, your footsteps loud in his ringing ears. God, this is so embarrassing, he is blushing like an idiot.

“Hey don’t worry. I think it’s really sweet of you”, you reassure him.

You reach out to touch his shoulder, only to pull back at the last moment when Yoongi stops and turns around.

“You d-don’t think it, it’s weird?” he asks, almost whispering so the other people in the hallway wouldn’t hear him.

They are staring again, judging you for talking to him and sending daggers his way. One day if he ever feels brave enough he’ll tell all of them to mind their own business. But today is not the day, today all he wants to hear is that he isn’t weird in your eyes.

“Of course not. I’m just so surprised that you would walk an hour just to get me coffee”, you say, lowering your head in shyness.

Yoongi smiles, his eyes starting to sparkle. His heart flutters in his chest, his hands feel sweaty.

“I, I just felt like it. N-no big d-deal”, he mumbles, trying his hardest to sound as cool as possible.

You look up, meeting his eyes. You smile, it makes him smile as well. It feels good, right, like this moment was meant to be in the big circle of life.

For once Yoongi doesn’t notice the stares and whispers, for once you don’t care about the glares and judging voices. It is just the two of you, who are important, just the two of you to pay attention to. How you would love to caress his arm, stroke your fingers up and down his soft sweater. Would he feel as soft and warm as he looks? He probably would, maybe even a little bit softer and just the tiniest amount of warmer. How Yoongi would love to brush the strand of fallen hair out of your face, just so he could see more of your eyes he finds so beautiful. And just so he could see your face light up in that cute carefree smile you always do when you think no one is watching you.

But fear holds you back, both of you are too scared that the other might find it weird, that this would overstep your boundaries. If only you knew how much your hearts are aching for each other.  

“Do you want to walk home with me?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Mhm?” Yoongi blinks, blushing once he realises that he had been staring, “Oh, y-yeah.”

“Awesome”, you smile.

The two of you start walking, your bodies close enough to let people know you belong together but not close enough to actually touch arms. The people feel irrelevant, their stares don’t hurt you and they don’t make Yoongi feel scared today. He feels safe next to you, your presence gives him confidence. The only thing that still scares him is you, well, saying the wrong thing in front of you to be exact.

“I actually never walked home before. I always took the bus because I was too lazy. So this is exciting right now”, you say, giggling.

“Walking is so m-much nicer than t-the bus”, Yoongi says, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

The sudden urge to hold your hand bopped into his head and he needs to do everything in his power to stop himself from actually reaching out. He knows you would think him creepy if he dared to touch you.

You don’t notice anything of his inner struggle, too busy with looking at the flowerless roses. Autumn has officially started, the once colourful bushes now vast of any colour. It almost feels sad, looking at the fallen flower petals on the ground.

“I can imagine, you can see so much more of the city this way”, you say and sigh in contentment.

You abandon the rose bushes, walking through the gate of the school and reaching the road. It is louder outside, the air a lot worse now that cars are driving past you. But tonight it doesn’t seem to bother you, the evening feels too beautiful for it to be ruined by smog.

“Yes and less p-people too”, Yoongi says.

You chuckle.

“And less people, of course”, you laugh.

Yoongi starts to blush again, biting the inside of his cheek. God, he is so awkward, you must think him a total mess.

You don’t say anything for a long time after that. Yoongi, because in his mind he is scolding himself for always being so nervous around you and for always saying the most stupid things. And you because there was nothing better to you than the quietness of the evening. Not one moment are you thinking how awkward all of this feels, why would you, when you feel perfectly comfortable in his presence.

To you this evening seems wonderful, you had the longest talk with Yoongi as of yet, he bought you coffee and agreed on walking home with you. You couldn’t be happier, your plan on being friends with him turns out to be even better than imagined.

Your bus leaves exactly when you pass the bus stop, humming its mechanical melody. You and Yoongi stop to look after it for a moment. Suddenly you laugh, feeling the need to wave after the bus.

“Guess now I really have to walk home”, you joke.

Yoongi forces a smile to his face, laughing awkwardly whilst scratching the back of his neck.

This must have been you subtly telling him that you regret ever asking him to walk with you. He is sure of it. Oh no, he ruined everything.

“I-I’m sorry”, he whispers, lowering his head in shame.

You stop laughing to look at him in confusion.

“What?” you gasp, “Oh, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was making a joke about my laziness.”

Yoongi looks at you for the briefest of moments.

“Oh”, he blushes, his cheeks deep red from embarrassment.

He raises his hands to his face, hiding it behind them.

“I’m so stupid”, his voice is muffled by his hands.

He looks so endearing, the sleeves of his sweater have slipped over his hands, giving them the appearance of two little paws. He is wearing a beanie today, instead of a hoodie. It makes his hair look all the more fluffy at the parts where it peeks out of the grey fabric.

“You’re not, really”, you assure him, chuckling fondly.

Yoongi giggles quietly, his voice deep in his chest. He feels so relieved. All this time he thought you started to dislike him, but it seems like you don’t. If he wasn’t that nervous he would laugh loudly right now just from how relieved he feels.

“Do you want t-to go to t-the park?” he asks, feeling weirdly brave.

“The park?” you eye the beautiful piece of nature on the opposite side of the street.

“It takes longer t-to get home, but it’s so b-beautiful”, he explains his suggestion.

Your eyes light up, excitement bubbles in your stomach.

“Sure, I am always open for a trip to nature”, you say.

You rush to the closest crosswalk, Yoongi quickly follows you. You cross the street, and run into the park afterwards with happiness glowing in your chests.

At this time of the day the park is almost empty. An old man walks his dog just down by the tall acorn tree. You can hear him talk to the white Maltese and you can hear the dog's answer in the form of an excited bark. You can spot a pond far away, just across the big meadow. A couple sits by the water, their hands intertwined and their lips connected by a kiss. They must be really in love, they almost seem to glow in the autumn sun.

Other than that, you can’t see anyone else, Yoongi and you seem to be the newest guest at this magical place.

“It’s so quiet here”, you breathe.

The trees are tall, wearing their autumn clothes held in yellow and orange, some even went with a deep red dress. You don’t feel the wind on your skin, but when you look up you can watch it dance in the branches of the trees, the soft rustling calming you down.

“I can show y-you a more b-beautiful spot”, the deep timbre of Yoongi’s voice almost startles you.

You had nearly forgotten about his presence.

“Sure, show me”, you smile.

With your consent Yoongi leads you down the gravel paths, deeper into the forest. It gets darker once the trees manage to shield the sunlight. You would have definitely been scared had you come here alone. 

But having Yoongi next to you fights away all of your worries. Being able to look at him from the corner of your eyes calms you down. His feet shuffle over the gravel, his arms seem to swing the tiniest bit and his head wiggles happily from side to side. Tiny hums of approval leave his lips every time his eyes spots an especially beautiful tree. He is so endearing without even trying.

All of it makes your chest feel lighter and your cheeks feel hotter. The crunch of your shoes on the gravel sounds calming to you. The shadows the street lamps cast don’t look scary to you, instead of taunting you they seem to watch you from afar with fond smiles on their faceless faces.

Yoongi stops right underneath a tall mammoth tree. It towers over the other trees, having something almost magical about it. Like it is the tree the forest spirits use to sit on and watch the world fall asleep.

“We are here”, he announces, walking to the tree and sitting down on the dirt underneath it.

You follow him, thanking the universe for making you put on your least favourite jeans today.

“I come here w-when I, I want p-peace”, he explains.

He touches the tree, caressing the bark with gentle fingers.

“I listen t-to music here”, he smiles fondly looking up the tree, “or write my own”, he adds quietly.

He is glowing right now, his eyes sparkling like little galaxies. So beautiful, you think, he is so beautiful.

“You write music? That’s so cool”, you say, feeling the urge to scoot closer to him.

Yoongi nods, still looking at the tree, caressing its bark.

“Wow, that’s really awesome. Did you learn it here at school? I always wanted to try out the composing course, but was scared it would turn out to be bad.”

“No, I d-didn’t”, Yoongi shakes his head, “I never went t-there.”

“Why not?”

Yoongi’s smile falls, his hands fall from the tree, landing on his lap.

“I’m-“, he sighs sadly.

“It’s okay”, you assure him, sensing his discomfort.

“I don’t want t-to show my, my music”, he says, chewing on his lower lip.

“Why not? Isn’t that the whole point in writing music?”

He shakes his head.

“N-no. I’m scared of, of p-people not liking my, my music”, he confesses lowering his head.

Your heart stings, your chest feels heavy. He is so talented and he just can’t seem to see it.

“Yoongi”, you breathe.

He flinches at the pity in your voice, cringing internally at letting his guard down in a moment of trust. Your next words however, leave him close to tears.

“If your music is just a fraction of how you play the piano I can tell you that it is beautiful. I don’t know if you noticed, but you have an immense talent in music. I mean it.”

Yoongi doesn’t dare raise his head, too scared you would be able to see his glossy eyes. It feels so good to hear nice words directed at him.

“Thank you”, his voice sounds strained, close to breaking.

Your hand hovers over his’ for a moment, wanting to touch him, wanting to comfort him. Panic. You pull back, hiding your hand between your legs. You can’t, this would overstep your boundaries.

“Maybe one day you can show me some of your music? So I can confirm my theory”, you say instead.

Yoongi’s eyes race from left to right, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He is thinking hard.

“Y-yes, I mean no, no, I- maybe”, he mumbles, “I d-don’t have it recorded yet. I, I need to d-do that first”, he confesses almost embarrassed.

“No rush, take your time”, you assure him.

He nods in gratefulness, humming.

You study his features, fumbling with the sleeves of your jumper. 

"I write lyrics sometimes", you confess. 

He looks at you, "really?" 

"Yes, well, at least I try to. Most of the time I give up on them because they either become way too personal or they sound too cheesy." 

He seems so...mesmerised. So in awe. As if he had never met someone, who shares the hobby of composing with him. 

"But I have this one song I really want to finish one day. I just can’t think of any melodies for it, because I really suck at composing." 

"I-I could-", he takes a deep breath, "-can I, I see the l-lyrics?" 

"What? You want to see?" 

He nods his head shyly. 

"Wow", you whisper, feeling your heart flutter. This is the first time someone shows interest in your silly lyrics, "o-of course. Here, I always carry my notebook with me in case I get an idea." 

You open the book on the right page and hand it to Yoongi. He accepts it, holding it in his hands as if it was an irreplaceable treasure. He reads quietly, moving his lips as he does. And while he reads, you are left staring at him with your heart beating irregularly in nervousness and your fingers busying themselves by fumbling with the sleeves of your sweater. 

Yoongi finishes reading and closes the book. 

"This i-is really profound", he says, handing you the book back. 

"You think so?" you feel yourself tingle in happiness. 

"Yes, t-the lyrics m-make me feel sad b-but understood." 

Something inside of you flutters. This is everything you wanted to achieve with this song. 

"Thank you so much", you whisper, eyes glued to his face. He became so, so beautiful right now. 

"I-I'd go with something s-simple", he says and opens his backbag. He pulls out a small keyboard, putting it on his lap. You watch the scene unfold with held breath. Yoongi isn’t going to play, is he? 

He turns the keyboard on and plays a simple melody. It is soft and slow, carrying a sense of comfort to it. Now, it would be a lot better if he had more than ten keys to use, but the scene before your eyes is breathtaking nonetheless. 

Yoongi is playing for you. He is making up melodies just for you. He finishes his little concert with a simple chord, lifting his gaze. 

"That's what I would d-do", he says and begins blushing. 

You look at his lips then into his eyes, thinking to yourself that they truly were beautiful. He just made up a melody for your song. He just did that. 

Yoongi lowers his eyes then his head and then his entire face flushes a deep red. He touches the side of his neck, pushing the keyboard off his lap. 

"S-sorry", he whispers, clearly having realised just now what he had done. 

"Don't apologize, this was beautiful. Thank you so much, I love it with all my heart", you tell him. 

He lifts his gaze, smiling shyly. 

"Y-you think s-so?" 

"Yes, this is exactly what I had imagined my song to sound like. Except that it's even better." 

He looks at his lap, hiding his bright smile behind his sweater paw. 

"Could you play it again? And I record it for later?" 

He shakes his head, "I-I’ll record y-you a better d-demo." 

You know that he only says that because he is now too shy to play again, but that is okay for you because you just had the honour to receive a personalised melody from Yoongi. 

"Of course, that's even better. Thank you so much Yoongi", you say and smile. 

He nods his head, busying his hands by storing his keyboard back in his bag. You do the same, storing away your notebook. Oh, you feel so happy. Yoongi is actually going to write a melody for you and he is going to record it! This is better than anything you could have ever imagined.

As if natural, silence arises between the two of you afterwards. It feels nice, comfortable even. Like the two of you have known each other for such a long time that sometimes words aren’t necessary to understand each other. Just the presence of the other person is enough to make you happy and to make your hearts feel light in your chests. You have never felt like this before, of course you felt comfortable with Jimin and Jungkook from the start, but with them there wasn’t this intense warmth in your chest and a fluttering feeling in your stomach, almost as if butterflies were dancing in it. With them you felt comfortable like you had been friends for a long time, but with Yoongi you feel relaxed in such a foreign way it makes your head spin. Could this possibly be what falling in love feels like?

You glance at Yoongi. He has his eyes closed, leaning against the tree with a content look on his face. His lips are slightly parted, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looks so calm right now. It makes you smile before you quickly look away for the desire to cup his cheek is too much to bear.

Instead you look around you, drinking in the scenery. Yoongi has taken you deep into the forest, the paths are narrow and covered by moss, the street lamps are sparse, lighting the paths occasionally. This place almost has a mystical feel to it, like you had stepped into a world full of magic. You can’t hear a single car from the street, the silence feels so healing. It is as if you are back home, sitting underneath a tree in your backyard.

The air had gotten a lot colder now that the warming light of the sun was missing. You can feel the wind on your arms, raising goosebumps wherever it brushes your skin with cold fingers. The breeze carries the smell of nature with it, wet earth and resin. But there was something else, something familiar, woody with a hint of orange blossoms. You let your eyes fall on the culprit. He smells exactly like he did in the bakery, just a little bit sweeter now that he had claimed a soft spot in your heart.

Yoongi quickly closes his eyes once he meets yours, seeming frightened as if you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Had he perhaps been staring at you?

Gosh, you feel so shy all of a sudden, your cheeks burning up. You giggle. Yoongi opens his eyes, looking at you.

“What?” he asks quietly.

Your eyes meet, you are smiling at him.

“Nothing, I just-“, your smile grows, your eyes starting to sparkle, “-really like this place.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi keeps looking at you, “I, I like it t-too”, he breathes as he stares at your smiling lips. Here it is, that cute carefree smile he so yearned for.

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

The Salted Coffee Hit List

Summary: When it’s your turn to go undercover, some technical difficulties subject you to Neal’s mounting anxieties.

Word Count: 2,107

           “Can we move this to your office?” You asked, tilting your head, baring your neck and subtly trying to get Ryan, an embezzling broker, to notice the faux diamonds plated in your earrings. He wasn’t versed enough in jewelry to tell they weren’t real.

           Ten stories down and fifteen yards away, Neal and Peter were in collapsible chairs in the back of a van marked as an electrical service. Neal listened intently, his heart beating harder than it did when he was the one working an op. You didn’t have the experience he did, and this dirtbag owned two guns – and those were just the ones that were registered.

           “Don’t push him too fast,” Neal warned, leaning in as if the surveillance equipment could somehow bring him closer to you. Maybe if he felt it hard enough, you would telepathically hear, the thief reasoned. He didn’t see the steady green light on the hardware. “You don’t want him to spook.” He wished he were inside with you.

           “I think she’s got it handled,” Peter intervened, tone mild. You kept your face even but were grateful that the agent was stepping in. If Neal was fretting in your ear this entire time, it would be a challenge to stay patient.

           Ryan looked behind you, put his hands in the pockets of his crisp black trousers, and looked back at you with a small smirk. His eyes didn’t linger on your jewelry – not the not-diamond earrings, nor the shining glimmer of pearls around your neck.

           “Maybe we should wait. I’d hate to make a poor deal because you were hasty.”

           Neal could barely keep his feet still, and he saw no point in holding his tongue. You didn’t respond well when someone talked to you with that tone of voice. He couldn’t blame you, but he also couldn’t bear it if your temper let this end badly. “Just let it go,” he said. Neal Caffrey had too much pride to beg… but he didn’t mind emphatically suggesting with his hands steepled. The brunet turned to Peter. “You should have gone in,” he said again, repeating himself from earlier. “You have the accounting background, she doesn’t.”

           It took all of your willpower not to twitch. Between this rich, pompous jerk looking down at you like your pretty gems meant you had a slow brain, and Neal questioning your ability to do your job, you were losing patience rapidly. Man, that boy was going to get a talking-to after this was over.

           “I know what I’m doing,” you said clearly and firmly, to both of the men on your nerves. Ryan’s eyebrows raised, a little surprised by the stubbornness in your voice. You couldn’t see Neal’s face, but you hoped he was cowed.

           Two seconds later, you realized he wasn’t. “She’s pushing him,” Neal groaned quietly, putting his head down.

           “I see.” Ryan was measured but civil. You were glad that this meeting had been arranged at a time when there happened to be another person in the company’s lounge. The broker nodded and you caught a glimpse at the top of his head – he wore so much gel that the overhead lights were reflecting off his hair. “Well, let’s take it to the office, then. We can talk in privacy.”

           You nodded archly, letting him know that you weren’t taking no for an answer. He gestured to the hall and you went first, letting him direct you verbally towards his office. In the van, Peter gave a small, proud smile. He knew you could do it. You were well-trained and very resourceful, and no one spent as much time around Neal as you did without picking up on a few things.

           Ryan’s office was pristine – almost sterile, even. It felt impersonal and uncomfortable, as if it were pulled from an IKEA brochure and was only there for show. It corroborated with your knowledge of the man himself as a control freak. The desk was a bright, reddish-color of a polished, expensive wood and the high-backed office chair was upholstered with suede. Ryan pulled out a less impressive chair (but still padded with suede) for you before making his way around and sitting at his desk. He leaned back and put his arms up over him, locking his hands behind his head.

           “Let’s talk shop,” he said, putting his eyes on you. His body was relaxed, his face was amused, and his eyes were hawkish. You inclined your chin just slightly. You saw through that friendly demeanor… but you weren’t going to call him on it. It was better to let it play out.

           Neal tensed, shaking his head. Talking shop was the last thing you should be doing – you didn’t have enough knowledge of accounting or investing. “No, no, no.”

           “Let’s,” you agreed, ignoring Neal’s muttering voice.

           “The entire meet is gonna be blown,” Neal told Peter, increasingly frustrated. The minute Ryan realized you weren’t really who you said you were, he was going to shut you down and kick you out and clean up after himself, this time with a lot more caution. And hell, it wouldn’t do to forget about those two registered guns. What did he need two guns for, anyway?!

           The look that Peter gave him was less amused than it had been before. “Stop that,” he said, delivering a sound smack to Neal’s shoulder. “Calm down. Unless you want me to tell her how many times you insisted she was going to fail?”

           You appreciated the threat, but you were already keeping score. And unless Peter shut up, too, he was going to be added to your little hit list of whose coffee to dump salt in.

           Neal quieted and considered. He trusted you, but he was very worried. He liked being on your good side and didn’t want to make you think he didn’t believe in your ability to do the job – and do it well, at that – but he also didn’t want to stay calm when you were up there, on your first undercover mission in months, in a room alone with a guy who had two guns. Maybe in that very room. He listened so he could be on his toes and run in as soon as things seemed even a little bit off.

           “My portfolio has risen by three percent this quarter and by eleven since this time last year,” Ryan announced. If you were feeling more generous, you might have called him prideful – but tense as you already were, you just thought he was being egotistic. You leaned into your chair, mirroring his posture. “And in this economy, that means something. I can’t afford to partner up with someone who’ll slow this firm down. My clients deserve better.”

           Yeah, because you’re so worried about what they deserve. You held your tongue. He would get his dues for stealing from his clients soon enough, but only if you held your tongue.

           “I agree,” you said, matching his tone closely. Becoming a behavioral reflection of your mark was a trick Neal had taught you, and in the few times you’d had the chance to employ the technique, it had worked surprisingly well. “Which is why I came to you instead of the dozens of other firms a taxi ride away. I only go for the best. What I need to know is if you can give your best to me.”

           “I don’t give anything. It comes at a price.” Ryan unlocked his hands and leaned over the table. You crossed your legs, left over right, and sat up with your back straight. “And it’s not cheap.”

           It was the crux of the conversation – if you said the right thing, then it was all going to be coasting for the rest of the meeting. You thought quickly, ignoring the voices that were literally in your ear.

           Neal relaxed a little. You were doing well, you were mimicking the bravado, and it sounded like you were making a subtle play on the suspect’s ego. “It’s not that I think she’ll fail,” he told Peter, shifting in his chair and turning his body towards the agent.

           In the office, you wanted to scream. It was impossible to craft your lines and manipulate the script with Neal being such a distraction every other minute! You bought time with your facial expression, looking at him and analyzing his face, proving that you were thinking it through before making a commitment.

           “I know she’s good at this. It’s just that I worry. I worry about myself, too,” he offered, just to prove to Peter that he didn’t need to report to you about how poorly you were expected to do. “I worry about myself all the time. Especially when you send me into offices that might have guns in them.”

           That made four ruined coffees for Neal Caffrey.

           “I’m sure you do,” Peter grumbled.

           “This is an investment firm,” you stressed pointedly. “People like us don’t go for cheap. We go for payoff. That’s what I’m in for, and I’m in for the long haul.”

           Ryan studied you with an excellent poker face. You wondered if he hustled people that way, too, and focused on how you were a federal agent, he had no idea, and he was going to pay for all the bad things he’d done. Even Neal had the human decency not to take from the poor. Ryan was a snake who had put people on the streets.

           “He’s not saying anything,” Neal observed, looking at Peter again.

           Tiredly, Peter responded, “Yes, Neal, I can hear everything you can.”

           “I’m mostly concerned with what we’re not hearing.”

           Salt in the coffee had seemed like a good plan when you were making it, but now you were starting to think that Neal didn’t deserve any coffee, even the disgustingly salted kind. Hm. What was worse than salted coffee?

           There wasn’t much time for you to think about it before Ryan’s poker face broke. “Payoff’s the name of the game,” he agreed, grinning broadly. He reminded you of the toothy, wide-mouthed grins of sharks. “Let’s look at this a little harder and see where we can fit you in, Ms. Y/L/N.”

~~~ The Salted Coffee Hit List ~~~

           You deserved an award. You had even decided exactly where you would put this award: in your kitchen, on the windowsill, just behind your coffeemaker. The two things that made you happiest would be sitting near each other. It was a good arrangement.

           As you were trying to decide what the plaque of the award would say, Ryan stood up from behind his shiny desk and reached across. You gave him your hand to shake as you followed his cue and rose, smoothing down the softness of your wool skirt.

           “I think this has gone very well,” Ryan said, giving you a crooked but handsome smile, except for his smug eyes. You pretended not to notice, because if you paid too much attention, your mask might slip. “I’ll contact you.”

           “When can I expect a call?” You asked, letting the man pull you by your hand out from behind your chair.

           “By the end of the week,” he promised. He dropped your hand and put his near your back, not quite touching you but herding you out of his office. Your welcome had expired.

           You let the grifter see you out the doors of the office suite. You gave him a wave over your shoulder, just a little bit flirty, before turning to walk towards the elevators down to the ground level. After you heard the heavy glass door close, you risked another look behind you. Ryan was out of sight, and you were free to talk.

           “You know your microphones have been on this whole time, right?” You hissed lowly, furious.

           In the van, Peter and Neal both looked at the recording equipment. The light indicating their line was open was indeed still on. Neal hopped up from his chair.

           “I was just really worried,” he said, grabbing at his coat and making pleading eyes at Peter. If he didn’t leave the van before you got back, he wasn’t sure he’d be leaving in one piece. He knew firsthand how annoying it was to have someone constantly talking in his ear when he was undercover.

           “Yeah, you should be,” you said darkly, “Because I’m going to kick your-“

           Your voice stopped abruptly and Neal looked up while hurriedly buttoning his jacket. Peter pulled his fingers away from the buttons, took off his headset, and set it down on top of the machine. The microphone was off on both sides.

           “Better late than never,” Peter remarked.

~~~

~~~

A/N: This was supposed to be an imagine... but it didn’t end up as one.

This was requested by an anon who said I could choose whether Neal x Reader were already together or not. I just decided to leave it vague, so it can be read as an either-or.

Requests are closed, but if you like this story and would be interested in commissioning another, my standard oneshot length is a little bit longer than this and pricing begins at $4. If you’re interested, please drop me a message/ask, or go straight to my Ko-Fi page!

[spaceskam]

maybe i’m not a boy who would stay, but isn’t it kinda fun to be together?

slightly late day 11 of my 12 (actually 13) days of gifts! this time we have a ridiculously long one for @christchex! I have no excuse for the length of this, I had no intention for this to get this long, I am so sorry if it’s boring. Hope you enjoy it anyway lol

ao3

“Please!”

“No!”

“Ugh, you guys are no fun!”

Alex and Maria continued to laugh as they watched Liz throw a fit. They were all camping out on the roof of The Wild Pony, trying to enjoy their 3-person Christmas party on the eve of Christmas Eve. IT was all going successfully as possible and now Liz was ruining it by pouting. 

“We’re seventeen! That’s too old to write letters to Santa,” Maria explained.

“All I’m hearing is you’re too old for fun,” Liz insisted, crossing her arms as she plopped back down on her sleeping bag. Alex rolled his eyes.

“What’s fun about writing all that you want down and sending it to a person that doesn’t exist?” Alex asked. 

“You never know who might read it,” Liz said in a faux cryptic tone. Alex barked a laugh.

“Are you insinuating that there is an omnipotent being coming to grant your wishes?” Alex asked, “Or, wait, God is reading your letters to Santa? I think that’s blasphemous.” 

“Shut up!” Liz laughed, swatting his way, “I just hate how not festive everything feels. It doesn’t even feel like Christmas. The only thing that’s changed, though, is my age. I was hoping that doing something we did as kids would make it feel a bit more festive.”

Alex sighed as he reluctantly realized that she had a point. He’d spent the first few years of his life never actually enjoying Christmas because it just meant more time spent at home with his father, but, ever since Mimi got legal guardianship of him, it was his favorite time of year. He never missed out on feeling festive whenever Mimi decorated the house and had a stocking with his name embroidered on it and made really bomb trail mix. He wanted Liz to feel that festive feeling too.

“Okay, fine, we can write letters,” Alex sighed. Maria looked at him incredulously.

“Oh no,” she gasped, “Not you too.”

“I’ll go get some paper and pens,” Alex chuckled and crawled out of his sleeping bag. Liz cheered and Maria groaned. As groan-worthy as it was, he had nothing better to do.

He quickly dropped down to the top floor of the building where he, Maria, and Mimi all stayed, and slipped into his bedroom. It was small seeing as it was once-upon-a-time the dining room. Mimi had strung up thick curtains in lieu of doors and, while it wasn’t much, it was more than Alex had ever asked for. He grabbed a notepad and a few pens from his tiny desk/bedside table.

He returned to see Liz smiling childishly and Maria seeming to have grown on the idea. Alex passed out the papers and pens before sitting down again. They all wrote ‘Dear Santa,’ at the top. Then they very quickly realized they had no idea what the hell to wish for.

“Are you telling me you wanted us to write letters to Santa and then had no idea what you want from Santa?” Maria asked. Liz gave a guilty smile.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“Jesus, Liz,” Alex laughed, “Okay, well, what’s something wild that you want, but would never get in a million years?”

“Oooh, a fully functioning biomedical lab with all the fancy equipment that I can play with for as long as I want,” Liz said excitedly. 

“God, you’re such a dork,” Maria said, but she smiled fondly as she urged Liz to write it down. “Alright, Alex, your turn. Wildest, unrealistic wish. Go.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, I feel like I’ve got everything I could ever ask for,” Alex admitted. Both girls ‘aw’d obnoxiously as he rolled his eyes.

“You have to be wanting something, Alex, it’s human nature,” Liz prodded.

“Oh, I know!” Maria exclaimed, “A boyfriend! You need one of those!”

“I do not‒”

“Write it down!”

Alex snorted, but couldn’t think of a valid reason why he couldn’t write it down. While a boyfriend wasn’t really at the top of his priority list, it would be sort of nice. He couldn’t deny that. Hell, just meeting another queer guy, in general, would be nice. So, he wrote it down.

“Oh, you can’t just write that,” Liz complained as she peered onto his paper, “I wrote all the things I want in my lab, write all the things you want in your male.”

Alex scoffed, “Like what?”

“Like soft hair and dreamy eyes,” Maria said wistfully, a playful smile on her face.

“Super smart, but sensetive,” Liz added.

“A good kisser!”

“Good in bed.”

“Okay, clearly you should be asking for a boyfriend,” Alex laughed, shaking his head. He instead listed a few qualities that he wanted.

Dear Santa,

This year for Christmas I would like a boyfriend who is nice, funny, and smart. And if he happens to be out-of-this-world handsome, I won’t complain.

Please and thank you, 

Alex Manes

“There, done,” Alex decided, “What did you write, Maria?”

“I asked for a million dollars,” she said with a grin. He scoffed.

“Oh, so you get something easy and I had to ask for a whole ass person?”

“A million dollars is not easy!”

“But that’s a go-to wish! That’s not fair!”

“A boyfriend is a go-to wish!”

“To whom?!”

“Ladies!” Liz yelled, throwing her arms out dramatically, “Relax, there’s enough fictional magic to go around.”

Giggles bubbled out of Alex as he shook his head. “Shut up.”

The night dwindled and they all ran to put their letters into the mailbox, laughing all the way. It was too fun to do these things, too fun to act like they weren’t graduating in a few months and fun to act like they didn’t know what might happen. This could be the very last Christmas they spent camping out together on the roof.

Might as well enjoy it.

-

At approximately 2:30 AM, the sky lit up.

The sky lit up and Alex woke up.

Alex woke up and he heard a crash.

He heard a crash and the ground shook.

Thankfully, when the ground shook, the girls woke up too and Alex didn’t have to freak out to wake them up. Instead, they got to freak out together like real best friends. Everything happened so quickly and they were all talked over each other, all too scared to go see what the hell just fell from the fucking sky. 

“You go look.”

“No, you!”

“You!”

“I’ll go look,” Alex sighed. He took a deep breath and slowly slipped from his sleeping bag before four hands grabbed him to keep him in place. “I can’t go look if you guys don’t let me go.”

“Sorry,” they grumbled, letting him go reluctantly. Well, sort of, because they ended up just coming with him.

Alex felt his heart thudding in his chest, but he couldn’t exactly figure out why. Something crashed behind The Pony, yes, but it could’ve been anything. It could’ve been a meteor or a tree or frozen waste from a plane like in Joe Dirt. That should’ve been his first thought.

But he lived in Roswell and nothing was ever that easy.

“Is that‒”

“Yep.”

“In Roswell?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck.”

The three of them peered over the edge of the roof to see a small, glittery aircraft half-buried in the ground nose-first. It was smoking and had made a very small crater which told Alex that, whoever was piloting it, had been semi-successful in making sure it didn’t hit with full force. However, that meant there was indeed a pilot. Which meant someone might be hurt.

“We have to go down there,” Alex said.

“Alex, we have no idea what’s gonna come out of there,” Maria stage-whispered as if whatever was down there might hear them.

“Okay, but they might need help!” Alex argued.

“They might be dead,” Liz added.

Alex jolted into action, racing towards the latter and all but jumping down to the floor. Liz and Maria followed, hissing his name, but he couldn’t stop himself. Someone might be hurt and he just couldn’t stand by and let it worsen. He’d been hurt because. Someone saved him.

He could try to save someone else.

Alex burst out of the back door and sprinted towards the spacecraft just as a figure crawled out. He stopped a few feet away, just in case, and caught his breath.

“Are you okay?! Do you need help?!” Alex called. The head of the figure turned to him, face covered in soot and eyes squinted like he was looking into the sun on a hot day. Alex went closer. 

The closer he got, the more he questioned if it was human or not. It looked human, but the spacecraft sure as hell didn’t. The creature had human-like skin and features, the main difference being his clothing and his hair. He was wearing a black, asymmetrical tunic with a ridiculously deep v-neck that had a white shirt underneath and very baggy, black pants. His hair was curly and brown, which was human, but the oddly constructed braids that looked to be made of more than 8 strands lined his entire head, leaving the curls to be left to a tuft on top. He was definitely strange looking.

Though, strangeness and soot aside, Alex was struck with how gorgeous he was.

“English?” the creature said, crawling further. Alex reached him and helped pull him further from the wreckage. He caught a glimpse of the girls standing far away but kept his focus on the creature. Him. It. Whatever. 

“Yeah, English, do you speak English?” Alex asked as let go and began looking to see if there was any obvious damage.

“Enough. I took many classes, watched many movies,” he said, voice deep and laced with an accent that Alex didn’t recognize which just further solidified the fact that whatever this was, it wasn’t human.

“Are you okay?” Alex wondered, ignoring all of the stresses that came with the fact that he was dealing with a very human-like not-human.

“Probably,” he said, grinning despite the fact that he literally just crashed. Alex helped him sit up and noticed a few cuts and soon-to-be bruises on his hands.

“Maria! Go get the first aid kit!” Alex called. The creature looked towards the girls, just now noticing their presence, and Liz and Maria both seemed frozen in time. “Hello?!”

“Right,” Maria said, turning and running inside and tugging Liz along with her. Alex sighed and turned back to the figure. 

“So, what do I call you? Where are you from? How did you crash?” Alex rambled, his eyes avoiding the creatures as he continued to check for any more cuts. He really needed to check beneath all the fabric but decided that it was probably not the best way to start a conversation with a stranger.

“You ask many questions,” the creature said. 

“Yeah, well, you crashed in my backyard, I reserve the right,” Alex insisted. The creature let out a soft little laugh.

“I promise I did not mean to, I thought I did the trajectory right. Got caught in the, uh, what is it you call it? Wormhole?” the creature said. Alex blinked in surprise.

“You got caught in a wormhole? How far away from home are you?” he asked.

“Enough,” he answered, “Home is Antar.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Alex admitted. The creature grinned.

“Earth hears nothing I heard,” he said. Alex huffed and shook his head. “I am Rath.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Rath?”

“Oh, we chose Earth names in Earth class last year. My name there is Michael. Is that better?” he asked. Alex smiled and shook his head.

“What do you prefer to be called? Your actual name or your Earth name?” Alex asked. The creature smirked in an all too human fashion.

“What do you prefer saying?” he said. Alex felt his cheeks heat up but shook it off.

“Michael will draw less attention,” Alex decided, “I’m Alex.”

“Alex,” Michael repeated, looking him up and down, “Human Alex.”

“Right,” Alex sighed, turning his head towards the door to see if Maria and Liz had come back yet and not at all so he didn’t have to look at him, “And what are you? Not human. You said you’re from Antar, so what are your people called? And are you, like, a man or are you something else?”

Michael tilted his head. “We are just Antarians. And I’m… close enough to a man in your terms, so yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” he answered. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“Seventeen and you have a spacecraft?” Alex asked. A guilty smile appeared on his face. 

“I may have stolen it.”

“We got the first aid kit!”

Alex sighed and decided he’d patch him up before they figured out what the hell they were going to do.

-

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” 

“And tell them what? A teenage alien crashed in our backyard so they can cart him away to dissect him? Absolutely not.”

“I would prefer not to be dissected, please.”

The three of them looked over their shoulders to the alien boy who was covered in Disney Princess bandaids and the same tattered clothes he’d landed in. Once the sun began to rise, it became all too clear that they had an actual issue. They’d found a whole alien that had no way to get back home until his ship was fixed. Which would be fine if they knew how long that would take.

“Look, he can just stay here,” Alex insisted. Both girls looked at him like he’d lost it.

“We are not housing some random alien that fell from the sky! He could be dangerous!” Maria hissed, not even bothering to keep quiet even though Michael was well within earshot. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think he is and I don’t know if there’s a safer place than here.”

“How in the world is our tiny apartment safe? My mom could find out! And what are we gonna tell her?” 

“I don’t know yet! Just give me a minute!”

Alex paced a few times on the roof, chewing on his thumb as he let his mind race. He didn’t want to just throw this guy out, it wasn’t fair. Someone had taken him in, he should take someone else in. Even if it wasn’t really his place to take him in.

“Hello, I have an idea,” Michael said, raising his arm up and catching their attention, “I look close enough to human. Say I am human.”

“Okay, but my mom will still question why I’m harboring a whole person,” Maria shot back. He scrunched up his nose in defeat and Alex felt even more of a need to give him a place to stay.

“Look, please, just let me try to hide him for two days. I’ll take the entire fall if we’re caught,” Alex insisted. 

“Damn right you’ll take the fall! This is your fault!” Maria said, “You’re the one who asked for a boyfriend!” Alex’s eyes widened and he scoffed.

“Excuse you, I‒”

“Okay, shut up!” Liz shouted, “You said two days. What happens when those two days are up?”

“Well, hopefully, we’ll have fixed his ship,” Alex sighed. Liz and Maria looked at him skeptically while Michael gave a dopey smile. “I’ve been in robotics class for years. With his existing knowledge of how the craft works and my being able to see what it mostly should be, I think we could fix it.”

“Ay Dios mio, I can’t believe this is happening,” Liz grumbled as she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead.

“Just, two days,” Alex asked, “Then he’ll leave.”

“Fine. Two days. If he kills us before then, it’s your fault.”

“I do not kill anyone,” Michael chimed in once again.

“Wait, what about Christmas Eve dinner? You’re just going to leave a random alien in your house alone?” Liz asked. Maria turned to Alex, expecting him to provide the answer. Alex licked his lips and looked to Michael and then back at his friends.

“We’ll just… come,” Alex said, “We just… take him.”

“We?” Liz asked.

“Not ‘we’,” Maria said, “You.”

Alex sighed and then looked to Michael who was just blinking innocently. Why did he have to be so nice?

“Fine. Me.”

-

“Later tonight we can go to the junkyard and see what we can salvage.”

Michael stared up at him with lost eyes, but still smiling effortlessly as they looked at the ship. The two of them had pulled it out of the ground and checked out the front and now they were peering over the engine. For the most part, it was still in one piece and had done a damn good job at saving its pilot. The main issue seemed to lie in the fact that the engine had blown. Everything else, though, seemed to be cosmetic.

“Why did you crash exactly?” Alex asked. Michael gestured towards the engine.

“The wormhole made me go too fast. This was the closest planet with right air,” Michael said, “Then the shield… the… atmosphere? Atmosphere! It made me go too fast again.”

“Ah,” Alex said, looking towards the alien. He still had some soot on his face, but for the most part, he’d wiped it away. And now, in the sunlight, Alex thought he was even more gorgeous than before. “I think we can fix it.”

“Yes?” Michael said, smiling. He let out a cheer and a small laugh, peering over the engine again.

“So, you said you stole it,” Alex said, “Should I be worried that, like, alien police are gonna come down to kill us all?”

Michael’s nose scrunched up and he chuckled, “No. No, it is mine. My dad, uh… what is the word in English? Uh… take it away?”

“Grounded you?” Alex asked and Michael nodded.

“He grounded me. I take it back,” Michael said, “He knows I run off.”

“You run away a lot?” Alex said. Michael simply shrugged a shoulder.

“I like to explore,” Michael grinned. Alex liked the way he smiled. It was always just a little bit mischievous, always just a little bit like he knew too much. Alex wanted to know everything.

“And he’s not gonna look for you?”

“He gives me five days. I take longer, he calls rescue,” Michael said and then he smiled even bigger, “All rescue knows me by name.”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I could never be that way.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly?” Alex said, focusing back on the engine, “Not sure anyone would go looking for me.”

Michael’s head jolted in shock and he made a wounded little noise. Despite the darker subject matter, Alex gave a small little smile. It didn’t subdue any shock.

“On Antar, your face would be on every paper. The world would search for you,” Michael said. Alex didn’t know how to take that and felt himself blush. He simply turned his head away again. This was a little bit too much.

“Maybe.”

-

“Okay, first of all, we need to make you look more human.”

Michael furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head like a confused, curious little puppy. Alex couldn’t help but smile.

“I have to bring you to the Christmas dinner, so you have to look human,” Alex explained as he stood off his bed and went towards the portable closet in the corner. He didn’t have much, but he had enough to share.

“I look human.”

“Not with that hair or those clothes,” Alex said, giving a kind smile when the alien looked semi-offended. He dropped a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans on the bed for him. “Change into those.”

“That’s ugly.”

“Rude,” Alex scoffed, “It’s normal.”

“This is normal,” Michael insisted, gesturing towards himself. Alex simply shook his head and turned around.

“Change and undo those braids,” Alex told him. Michael grumbled in a language that Alex didn't understand, continuously rambling as his thick fabric fell to the floor with a thump.

"Undo my hair?" Michael clarified once he was dressed in Alex's clothes, physically grabbing Alex to turn him around. 

"Yes," he said and gave him a once over, thankfully, “You have to zip up the jeans!”

“What?” Michael asked, looking down at himself, “Earth is weird.” 

“Oh my god, zip them,” Alex sighed, gesturing awkwardly to the zipper and the terrifying little patch of exposed skin. Michael sighed and it took him far, far too long to figure out how to do it. “Okay, now fix your hair.”

"I need water," Michael said like it was obvious. Alex sighed and peeked his head out of the curtain. He knew Mimi was downstairs preparing to open the bar and he knew Maria was at the Crashdown Christmas Eve Dinner, spinning some lie to excuse why Alex was going to be late Still, he wanted to double-check.

When it was clear, Alex hauled him to the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

"All flat?" Michael asked, looking over at him. 

"Huh?"

"All flat like you or can I keep this?" he asked, gesturing to the curls on his head.

"What? Yeah, you can keep the curls, just not the braids. People don't wear it like that here," Alex explained.

"In my place, flat is bad," Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes. "It is good on you, though. You are the only one my people would like it on."

"You know, on Earth, when you say stuff like that, it's considered flirting," Alex pointed out. Michael just grinned. 

Alex watched as he turned on the faucet and wet his fingertips. He rubbed the water over the braids and they slowly but surely loosened, unraveling with hardly any effort. Alex was mesmerized. 

"All done. Human?"

Alex examined it and smiled. He looked good.

"I bet girls are all over you back home," Alex said, trying not to cringe when he ended up sounding like a creepy grandma. Michael simply smiled, letting Alex ruffle his natural curls into the kinky ones the braids left behind.

“Enough,” Michael said, “Boys too.” Alex froze and looked at him.

“Huh?”

“Boys too,” Michael repeated. 

“And… no one cares?” Alex asked. Michael blinked and leaned a bit forward.

“Should they?”

“They do here.”

They stared at each other for a while. Alex was trying to imagine the place he came from. Somewhere where everyone was beautiful and open and queer. Somewhere where they wore ridiculous clothes and did their hair oddly. Somewhere where they had spacecrafts. 

Somewhere else.

“Okay, we should go,” Alex whispered. 

Michael simply smiled and nodded.

-

After spending all day on a few hours of sleep tinkering with a spaceship and then making an alien boy look human, Alex finally arrived at the Crashdown Christmas Eve Dinner. 

The whole place was bustling and filled with people in Christmas sweaters and hats. Alex and Michael were the only ones in black‒but that wasn’t that big of a deal. Alex always was. Maria and Liz spotted them pretty immediately and ushered them over to the booth. Alex dragged him over.

“Should I ask what is Christmas?” Michael wondered carefully as they sat down across from the girls. 

“It’s a holiday,” Alex answered simply, not bothering to look as offended as Maria and Liz did, “Where we celebrate just, like, togetherness and shit.”

“Oh,” Michael said, nodding his head as if that explained everything. He assumed he probably just didn’t care to ask more.

“So, you look awfully normal,” Maria noted before turning an overwhelming smile onto Alex, “I’m assuming no alien probing happened?”

Alex almost choked on Dr. Pepper he hadn’t taken a sip of yet.

“Jesus Christ,” Alex said, his face flushing hard, “No, we just fixed his hair and his clothes.”

Before anything else could happen, Liz’s father bounded over with a big smile and a tray full of food that he placed before them. 

“Alex! I’m glad you could join us!” he cheered, pulling Alex up to his feet and pulling him into a massive hug. He accepted it willingly, a smile finding his face as he squeezed right back. “And who's your friend?” 

“Uh, Michael,” Alex answered. Arturo held out a hand to him and Alex had to shoot him a look to make him grab it. Maybe he should’ve gone over a bit more human things. 

“Ah, well, welcome!” 

Getting Michael to eat human food proved more difficult than expected. He would ask what it was made of and then that didn't do much to sway him because he didn't know any of the things listed. They had to all but force him to try it and only then, after clarification that it didn’t taste like trash, did he bother to eat.

The only time Michael seemed to not have a problem was when Liz’s sister Rosa pulled him up to dance without even asking who he was. The three of them watched in confusion as the alien moved seamlessly to the music and with Rosa. She seemed super impressed by this and took a moment to wiggle her eyebrows at Alex before Michael spun and dipped her.

“What the hell, they have samba in space?” Liz asked. Alex didn’t even know what to say.

The guy was attractive and he was smart and he was fun to be around and he was into other guys. All of these were positives and, had he not been an alien, Alex would’ve been head over heels. But he was an alien. This wasn’t Carter whatever-his-last-name-was who sat two seats over from him in science last semester. That guy was easy to fall in love with even though he didn’t have a single conversation with him. He was cute and he was human. These felt like extremely pathetic standards, but who could fault him?

This guy ticked all the boxes and was an alien. A fucking alien.

Was it morally wrong to think an alien was hot?

“Nah, Kirk did it all the time,” Maria answered which made Alex realize he’d asked that out loud.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Liz cooed in a baby voice, an exaggerated pout on her face as she turned to him, “He could be your Spock!” 

“Oh my God,” Alex laughed, shaking his head, “No.”

“Why not? He’s not and he clearly likes you,” Maria pointed out. Alex looked at her in confusion.

“What do you mean he clearly likes me?”

“I mean he’s been making heart eyes at you since you pulled him out of the wreckage,” Maria laughed, kicking him from beneath the table, “And you got him to change his hair and his clothes and eat food he isn’t used to. Sounds like love.”

“Sounds like he’s an alien we took in at four o’clock this morning.”

“So?” 

“You know, you guys were the ones who didn’t even want to keep him. Now you guys think I should hook up with him?” Alex scoffed.

“It’s the dancing,” Maria said.

“True. Boy moves his hips like Shakira taught him personally,” Liz agreed.

“Oh my God,” Alex breathed, shaking his head. But they really did have a point. “None of that even matters because he’s going to be gone the day after Christmas.”

“And you can’t enjoy it while it lasts?” Maria asked. Alex scrunched up his nose.

“Nah. If we did that, we wouldn’t get anything on the ship done,” Alex insisted.

He deserved the slaps to his shoulders he got.

-

“I am tired.”

“You wanna just wake up early to go to the junkyard?”

“Yes.”

Alex could see Michael’s eyes drooping as they made their way back to the Pony. Maria was trailing in front of them, skipping light on her toes. 

“Christmas is tomorrow!” she sang as if she just realized it. Alex couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Yeah, it is.”

“And you two are going to spend it working like dorks!” she added, spinning around to stick her tongue out at them before facing forward again.

“No… togetherness and shit?” Michael asked Alex, quoting him and sounding so very inhuman that it made Alex smile.

“Maria and her mom go to see family, so I usually just stay home and watch movies and then we have dinner together,” Alex explained, “Which, I guess you can come to and I’ll sneak you back in after.”

“And your family? You do not see them?” Michael asked. Alex took a slow, deep breath before giving him a smile.

“Not really, no,” he said. It was easier than any other response and Michael nodded.

“Okay. We can have togetherness and shit,” Michael decided which got Maria to look over her shoulder and shimmy her shoulders a bit at Alex. He rolled his eyes.

“Sounds good.”

It was incredibly easy to sneak Michael in considering Mimi was still manning the bar. Christmas Eve and Christmas day were two of the busiest days of the year for the bar, so she always worked late. All they had to do was slip Michael in the back and bring him straight to Alex’s space.

“It just occurred to me that I never asked how you feel,” Alex asked as he gave Michael a pair of sweats to change into. They faced opposite ways to change.

“I am… uncomfortable?” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“Uncomfortable how?”

“I ache.”

“Oh, you’re sore?” Alex asked. 

“Yes, a bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I crashed,” Michael laughed. Alex turned around and saw him stretching, arms up and a strip of skin visible above his sweats. It made him second guess what Liz and Maria had said about taking advantage of the time he was here. 

What was the worst that could happen?

Obviously, he didn’t stay on that thought too long once Michael turned around again. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were exhausted, but he still managed to give Alex a little smile. It was painstakingly adorable.

They both looked towards the tiny twin bed. Alex never felt it was really tiny before this moment when he realized he hadn’t considered where they were both going to sleep.

“So… I can sleep on the floor, I guess,” Alex suggested. Michael looked at him with a big frown.

“Why? We can fit.”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda weird to share a bed with someone,” Alex said. Michael still didn’t seem to get it.

“We are friends, yes?” Michael asked. Alex nodded slowly. “I sleep with friends always. It is not weird.”

“Okay, but on Earth it’s weird.”

“You saved me,” Michael said, “If it is weird, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, you’re sore, I don’t want to make that worse by you sleeping on the floor.”

“Then we share.”

After some staring and internal debating, Alex agreed. He just decided he would never tell Liz or Maria about it because he would never live it down. This would just be his little secret after Michael went home.

They crawled into bed, back to back and fitting a little too snug. The first thing Alex noticed was how physically hot he was. It was like pressing his back up against a heater. Alex gulped softly and reached for his phone to set an alarm. They needed to be up before Mimi so they could sneak off to the junkyard without her realizing Alex had a boy in his bed overnight. 

God, Alex had a boy in his bed overnight. That sounded like a fake sentence.

“Thank you, Alex,” Michael said, “For helping me. You are very kind.” He added a few more sentences in his native tongue, but Alex didn’t need a translation to know that it was simply more appreciation. The sound of his voice was enough.

“You’re welcome.”

Michael reached behind him and grabbed Alex’s arm and gave it a squeeze. 

He fell asleep with a blush on his cheeks.

-

Alex woke up before his alarm went off which was actual bullshit. 

The reason he woke up, however, had everything to do with the space heater that had decided to press all up against him and wrap him up in his arms. Perhaps it would be romantic and sweet if Alex wasn’t sweating like crazy. 

“Oh my God, Michael, get off,” he grumbled sleepily, elbowing the body behind him. Michael simply hummed and squeezed him once. Alex whined and tried to wiggle out of the hold.

Eventually, Michael let go and Alex turned around to try to prevent that from happening again. Maybe if it was colder or maybe if he was wearing less clothes or maybe if he wasn’t trying to sleep it would’ve been fine. But those weren’t the circumstances and he was tired of sweating. 

It didn’t really help, though, as Michael, in his sleep, scooted back in. Alex fell back asleep with them physically nose to nose.

When the alarm actually went off, neither of them really wanted to budge. It was comfortable to lay there in bed. It was comfortable to lay next to each other. It was comfortable to have limp alien fingers pressed to Alex’s hip as a silent desire for affection.

Alex liked this much better.

His eyes slid open at the same time Michael’s did and they stared for a minute or two. For a moment or two, Alex didn’t want him to leave. It was an insane thought, he barely knew this guy, but he really wanted him to stay. He wanted to wake up and stare at him every morning. He thought he could survive waking up in the middle of the night to throw him off if it meant getting this one little moment of contented silence.

“You are beautiful,” Michael said like that was okay.

“Let’s go to the junkyard,” Alex said because that was okay.

The two of them dressed sluggishly and stole a couple of bananas off the counter. Alex left Mimi a note that said he’d be back for dinner, he had simply gotten up early to go for a walk. Then they slipped out quietly with two backpacks and headed for the junkyard.

Michael and Alex spent more than a few hours digging through parts and trying to find something to create something else that would have enough horsepower to propel him up to space and go through a wormhole enough to make it home. However, it took longer than it should’ve because, now that they were rested, it was easier to fuck around.

Hours went by and they only found a few things, spending most of the time laughing and teasing and getting comfortable. Alex liked being alone with him. He liked his sense of humor and he liked that he wasn’t scared to say what he thought. Alex taught him a few extra words and Michael attempted to teach him some of his native tongue, but it went so badly that Michael told him never to try it again. Which was valid when it sounded more like German than anything else.

“You think we could start your ship with this?” Alex asked as they loaded the parts into their bags. 

“I think so, yes. We could do it after later,” Michael suggested. Alex smiled and nodded, but he found that he was even more sad to see him go.

As they began to walk back, Alex asked, “What happens if we can’t get it started?”

“My dad will come.”

Alex was too scared to ask what all that could mean. 

-

Climbing into bed for the second night felt bittersweet. This would more than likely be the last night they would have. 

Dinner with Mimi had gone better than expected. She took to Michael quickly and she found him incessantly charming. He seemed to love that. He loved it so much he ate her food without question and then offered to do dishes. It was strange, but it also made sense. He fit well in their little family. It was like he was a piece that had been missing beforehand. It only made Alex even more upset that he would have to go.

This time, they went to bed already facing each other. Every second that Alex stared was an extra second that he was considering just going for it. Michael was leaving in the morning. If he tried something and it went badly, he would only have to live with the embarrassment for a few hours. But, still, that sounded too ambitious.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Alex said instead. Michael’s legs shifted under the blankets, wedging his foot between Alex’s shins. It stole his breath.

“Me too.”

They laid nose to nose again, breathing in sync and existing in sync. How wild was it that he’d crashed where Alex could find him? How specific did life have to be to have them meet?

Alex slowly let his eyes close as he allowed himself to appreciate his body heat. He let himself appreciate the fact that he probably wouldn’t have someone else in his bed for a very long time. He let himself appreciate how immediate they seemed to click. It was like from the moment they saw each other, Alex was here for him. It was too fast for anyone, much less someone like Alex, but it was too good to push away.

“Alex,” Michael whispered. Alex had to put effort into opening his eyes, feeling lethargic and at ease.

“Hm?” 

Soft fingertips pressed into his jaw which made Alex a thousand times more alert. Then he was being kissed which both woke him up completely and subdued him entirely at the same time. It was slow and sleepy and had all the hair on Alex’s body standing on end. Michael’s leg curled around his and tugged him closer. It was too good. 

“Wow,” Alex breathed. Michael hummed, nudging their noses together. Alex felt at peace.

“Maybe,” Michael murmured, fingers moving from Alex’s jaw to his shoulder and down his arm, “Maybe I can come back sometime.” Alex’s stomach tied in a million knots, eager for it even if it was as vague as possible.

“Would you want to?” 

“Yes. More than anything.”

Alex slept better than he had in a while.

-

The ship came to life too quickly.

Alex tried not to feel too upset about it. He’d known Michael was going home and, the fact that it started, meant that they were really good at putting shit back together. And, if they’d failed, then Michael’s father would’ve come to search for him which only sounded like it could go wrong. Alex didn’t want to be at the forefront of a misunderstanding turned alien invasion.

Liz and Maria came to send him off, giving him hugs to say it was nice to meet him. He gave Alex a kiss that no longer felt new. In fact, after falling asleep to them and waking up to them, he found he was going to miss them more than anything in the entire world. 

“Goodbye,” Alex told him as he gave him a tight hug.

“Goodbye,” Michael repeated, pressing a kiss to his cheek one last time. It felt too fast, too unreal, when he simply climbed into the ship and left and suddenly it was like it’d never happened.

“Man, you really kissed him,” Maria noted. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Is that what we’re focusing on?”

“I’m just saying that I’m surprised. It was awfully fast.”

“You’re the one who told me I should in the first place!”

“Yeah, but‒”

“Are you going to miss him?” Liz asked, breaking the arguing. Alex licked his lips.

“Yeah,” he said, “But he said he’s going to come back. I don’t know when and maybe he won’t at all, but…”

“Yeah.”

They were all quiet for a bit longer as they stared up at the sky. It was truly an unforgettable Christmas. Alex silently hoped he could have more.

“Santa really does deliver.”