#would i move to another world asap if a door opened? yes but i would need to be assured I can come back any time

[offonaherosjourney]

Shoutout to characters that move to other worlds and never look back, I could never be like you. I'd have to at least periodically check back with Earth because I could not handle never finding out how my favorite book series ended

[owl127]

Request: omega kara (with or with out powers) gets taken by someone who hates her alpha

Ship:supercorp

The whiskey burned on Lena’s throat, the usual suave touch a harsh reminder of her failure. The crystal cup trembled on the glass desk of her office, and it took her a moment to realize she was the one shaking.

"Mrs. Luthor?" Jess’s voice followed the soft knock. Lena didn’t respond at first, taking another sip of the Glenmorangie. "You asked to be informed of any developments?" Jess added, and Lena was on her feet in a second.

"Did the D.E.O. find her?" She asked while throwing the door open, and her secretary barely flinched at the half-drunk move.

No one blamed Lena for any of this; she was already excellent at blaming herself.

"We got an update from the DEO, yes," Jess said, checking the tablet in her hands, "it seems they have located Supergirl."

Jess was part of the small, selective group of people who knew the true identity of Lena’s wife. "Is she okay? Is she alive?"

If Jess saw desperation in Lena’s eyes, she didn’t comment on it. "Dr. Danvers said she is alive, but the situation escalated to a hostage exchange. They are asking for you."

Lena had her own team deployed to track Kara, but of course the D.E. Fucking O. had found her first. "I’ll be there ASAP. Get my helicopter ready."

"It’s on the roof waiting for you, ma’am."

Gods, this girl deserved a raise.

Lena was either too exhausted or too drunk for small talk, so as she entered the D.E.O. war room with a small visitor badge, she zeroed in on her sister-in-law. "Where is she?"

Alex shared her agony, so she kindly ignored Lena’s alcohol breath and recited the main points of Kara’s abduction.

Ambush. Kryptonite. An alpha posing as Lena, a bait.

"How did Kara fall for that?" Lena asked as Alex recounted the tale. "She would have noticed the difference in the scents."

"They had your clothes," Alex explained, "and I’m willing to bet Kara didn’t want to risk it."

"What do they want?"

At that, Alex finally took a breath. "L Corp research experiments. Apparently, this is not the kind of thing your PR team likes to handle."

"How do they even know what we have?" Lena sat down on one of the chairs. She was a mess, and she knew it. It had been 48 hours since Kara’s disappearance, and Lena was not dealing well with it.

"Lena." Alex knelt next to Lena’s chair, one hand on her thigh. If there was one thing Alex and Lena bonded over, it was the fact that they would do anything to keep Kara safe. "We know who has her."

"Who?" Lena spat the word with venom, though she already knew. There was only one person in this whole world who hated her enough to target the most precious thing in her life.

Alex pressed a button on her tablet and turned it to show Lena. Lena felt bile on her tongue at the short clipped video.

"Lena!" Lex greeted the camera, his beard immaculate, though his cream suit had a blood stain. "You have something I want, and I," he turned to show Kara behind him, her arms raised and bound in a sickly green glowing chain, "have something you want. I’m sure we can make a deal."

He continued to talk, but Lena’s attention was limited to Kara. Her face was swollen, her lips split; Kara was not used to being hurt, and her face contorted in pain.

Lena looked up at Alex and saw the hardened stare, and then and there, there was another promise between the alphas.

Lex was not getting out of that alive.

[frogecstacy]

Hi! I really love your writing! My favorite is the one where the brothers don’t notice MC’s lipstick. Could I request you continue it with the newdateables (minus Luke) or just do Barb if that’s too much

OOf course lovely!!!

I’m so happy you liked it!

I’d be happy to do the new dateables (except Luke of course because I consider him my son)

For anyone who sees this first here are the brothers

https://frogecstacy.tumblr.com/post/645300851675709440/maam-may-i-please-request-mc-getting-a-new

Part 2 of the new dateables not noticing they are wearing MC’s new lipstick (except Luke)

Reader is gender neutral 

Hope you like it

Diavolo

Your relationship with Diavolo had to be very appropriate and mature when addressing the public and attending meetings

Never really getting to fool around (if you know what I mean)

However while still dating a royal Diavolo always made sure he had time for you and that your relationship was fun

He had read somewhere in a human world magazine that keeping you partner happy and living life to the fullest was how a relationship lasted

He vowed to live by that. I kid you not if not for Barbatos this man would have pledged his life to make sure your every need was acquired 

Diavolo had been very busy recently and you thought maybe this new lipstick you had bought would spark his attention

OH BOY WAS THIS MAN SMITTEN

He wanted you to paint a picture on his face

Your lips and the brush and the lipstick as the paint

Sadly you two were in a meeting regarding a new lunch menu, but the only thing this man had on his mine was eating your lips

His brain going BRRRRRR

You quickly picked up that his attention for this conversation was dropping quickly and was trying to end the conversation

As soon as the chef that runs the cafeteria left, Diavolo gave you no chance to say goodbye

His lips were on your quickly grabbing your cheeks so you could face him

“Now darling I must say this new lipstick of yours is quite tempting” Diavolo was smirking giving you a teasing tone

“Is it a crime to want my boyfriend’s attention” you loved giving him those innocent puppy dog eyes

“Why yes it is my dear, I’m afraid your punishment will be giving me more kisses” 

How you loved Diavolo’s “punishments”

This led to a quick make out session but it was cut short as Barbatos called reminding Diavolo he had a meeting with elderly demons regarding some RAD students getting out of hand

“We’ll continue this later my love, I hope you’ll be reapplying the lipstick. It tastes amazing.”

As you looked over at Diavolo you saw the lipstick marks on his face and was going to tell him but he was already gone

You were a bit worried but thought that Barbatos would remind before he entered the meeting

You were wrong Diavolo had quickly ran into the meeting and was met with wide eyes

“I’m sorry I am late I had... ugh, some important matter to attend to” he had thought maybe they were mad that he was late but Barbatos had quickly pulled him aside for a private chat

“My Lord I believe you have MC’s lipstick all over your face” Barbatos was smirking

He could have stopped this but I mean who doesn’t love a bit of excitement 

Diavolo looked at himself through his camera phone and turned bright red

He just walked in to a meeting with a bunch of elders lipstick smudged all over his face

I mean the man jinxed himself, he wanted you to paint a picture

He quickly than realised something, why be embarrassed, these geezers should know he’s in an active relationship and he doesn’t care for their opinion

He wiped off most of the marks but left one on his neck for them to know he enjoyed himself, reminding them they took him from his enjoying moment

He walked right back into that board room with his signature smile and laugh and continued with pure confidence

You later found out and was so embarrassed but that thought was quickly swept away and Diavolo said he wanted to wear your love all the time

Damn sorry I got carried away with Diavolo’s

Barbatos

They should seriously make a UR+ card of this man ASAP

Okay Barbatos is 24/7 butler so you don’t always get time with him

BUT... you had a plan to get his attention today

You had bought a new lipstick that you knew would be to Barbatos’s liking

You had went to the castle for tea but you just wanted to get Barbatos (Sorry Diavolo we kinda used you as pawn today)

You had come to the castle in a new outfit that made you look stunning 

You already are stunning lovely this outfit just made you God’s competition. Simeon have to step up his game

Okay so you enter the castle giving a small kiss to your boyfriend and saying Hi to Diavolo

Barbatos quickly saw your new lipstick and outfit and man had to hide the small blush on his cheeks

I mean he could’ve known you were going to do this but he still would be blushing 

Your chit chat with the two was small as you could Barbatos was watching the way your lips moved or the way you sipped on your cup of tea

He was not subtle in any way today

Wanting to feel your lips on his he reminded Diavolo of some work he had to complete

Barbatos insisted in guiding you to the door and for Diavolo to return to his studies

As Barbatos was leading you out he put his hand on your lower back and said “I see what you’re trying to do my dear. You want me to give you some attention” 

Now at the door and facing him you said shyly “Is it working?”

“Mhm” as Barbatos hummed his answer he leaned into you and kissed your lips

But one kiss wouldn’t suffice, he need more

Now pining you against the wall he was holding you

Your kisses started to get more desperate and Barbatos was addicted to to your lips

You were kissing all over his face

His neck, his lips, his forehead, his cheeks, he was lost in the feeling

Being so lost in your loving lips he didn’t hear Diavolo walking down the hallway to ask a question 

You both froze when Diavolo stopped talking and was staring at you two

Barbatos quickly pushed you outside and closed door

Was calm and neutral Barbatos embarrassed

He didn’t hear the end of it from Diavolo

However the prince was now reminded he assistant was in a loving relationship and need to give him more time off

Barbatos was trying to explain himself but Diavolo cut him off laughing and saying “Barbatos you should wash your face first before you explain yourself”

He left to wash his face confused but knew why when he saw himself in the mirror

He was tempted to walk out and enter a new timeline

But how could he leave you, he loved you more than any teasing Diavolo could give

Simeon

I could not find a good gif for him so I’ll have to get one of my own for future posts

Okay I know everyone thinks this man is Holy as hell but I think NOT!!!

I mean look at him, look at his angel outfit you can not tell this man isn’t a tease 

If he asked I would give him all the kisses he wanted

Okay so you and Simeon were going to go on a nice date in the DevilDom and you decided to wear a new lipstick

I think sometimes this man just throws out all levels of holiness when it comes to your hotness 

I mean who would be able to resist your beauty. No one bam!

You and Simeon were going to Ristorante Six for a well deserved date

You two had agreed to meet there, but Simeon had the wind knocked out of him when he saw you

He seriously had to have conversation with Micheal asking why you weren’t an angel

I mean your his angel though soooo

Okay so not only is your outfit jaw dropping he can’t get his eyes of your lips

While you two are eating dinner you remind him that his eyes should be up here, looking at your eyes

While dinner was nice all Simeon wanted to do was kiss you lushes lips

He watched you reapply the lipstick before leaving

He burned the brand name into his head and made sure he would but it again

When finally reaching the house of Lamentation he couldn’t leave without a kiss

So when he received a kiss from you he couldn't get enough

Your small kisses quickly became long and needy

Simeon had you pushed up against the door and was kissing you like there was no tomorrow

You both making sure no spot on your faces were unkissed, the moment had to come to an end as you could someone approaching the door

One last kiss and whisper of a goodbye before Simeon left to go back to Purgatory Hall 

When he got home Luke screamed

Poor baby probably doesn’t even know how to make out with anyone

Soloman was smirking and suggested that Simeon go look in the mirror

When he saw himself and he blushed 

He had to admit though he looked good wearing your lipstick

Solomon 

Okay so this man loves getting handsy and intimate at random moments

Like you could be walking together at RAD and then he’ll just start kissing you and go into an empty classroom

He loves keeping the name of the sneaky and mysterious sorcerer 

But behind his little act he just loves kissing you

So when he sees you wearing a new lipstick at RAD he pulls another one of his stunts

However maybe it kinda backfired on him

So you two are talking about a new spell you were working on

I mean the two most powerful sorcerer’s dating makes the most powerful power couple

While you’re talking about one ingredient you can’t seem to prepare right you find yourself suddenly pinned against a classroom door

His hands are at your hips and his lips are mere inches away

He’s looking at your lips and asks “Is this a new lipstick”

“Ugh, yeah it is. Do you like it?” 

Solomon wasn’t usually this bold or so revealing in the halls 

He responds with the gears in this already wanting to kiss you “I love it”

He already has his lips on you and he’s hoisted your legs around his waist

Opening the classroom door and closing it behind him, he places you on the desk turning your light kisses into a hard make out session

Your lips trailing everywhere from his lips to his neck to his forehead

After almost trying to see who could go without air for the longest you two heard the bell rings and quickly separated going to your different classes 

Solomon had ran into Asmo and he got a handful of questions from him

Solomon was confused but than it him, he must be wearing MC’s lipstick all over his face

“Ahh, you and MC getting real bold at school Solomon” Asmo loved the tea on your relationship 

Solomon’s pride didn’t falter and just said “We did an experiment and that was it”

He walked away smirking

What a sneaky bastard

[yannadere]

Songbird Soliloquy

daryl dixon x afab!reader who's a musician

summary: y/n is an underground alt musician who uses their music to lure hordes away from the group.

tags: mild songfic, musician!reader, jealousy, pining, cuddles, fluff, injuries, hurt/comfort

((based off of jazmin beans's worldwide torture))

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

you sit patiently, tuning your guitar and giving it an experimental strum. the sound of your loud instrument alarms most people in the camp, and you smile sheepishly, turning down the built in amp. "y/n-." shane starts, but you cut him off. "relax, it's fine. it was barely loud compared to how loud this baby can get." you grin, continuing your tuning. "okay, just please don't alert every walker for miles to our location." he sighs, and you roll your eyes. "dude, relax. it was barely a strum." you giggle, noticing carl's curious gaze.

"hey, little man. wanna learn one day?" you ask with a smile, and he looks up at lori. "maybe when we're somewhere safer." she nods, smiling. "cool!" carl bounces slightly, clearly excited. "alright, the plan is to move out of atlanta..." rick states, and you nod as the group starts listening. "we're heading to fort benning, georgia. should be safer." rick informs, and the group seem to agree.

"alright, we're heading out asap." rick nods, walking away, lori following. daryl huffs, slumping down onto a chair next to you. "you ever gonna ditch that thing?" he asks, and you shake your head. "never. she's my baby." you grin, sticking your tongue out at him. daryl rolls his eyes and carl beams. "can you play something?" he asks, eyes staring at your guitar. "ahh- i don't think that would be smart..." lori butts in but you give carl a few chords to keep him happy. "not too loud." shane scolds, and you roll your eyes. "c'mon, we've gotta move." rick sighs, closing a car door. "alright. let's go."

the rv comes to a wheezing stop, and you open the door to step out, observing the broken down vehicle next to you. daryl's motorbike passes you and you grin at him as he glances at you. everyone gets out, observing the engine with disappointment. glenn chews his nails anxiously, and you nudge him as you approach him. "relax, dale can fix it." you grin, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "i don't know... it's more duct tape than hose... and i'm out of duct tape." dale huffs, shrugging before crossing his arms in thought.

"surely we could scavenge from these cars..?" you suggest, gesturing to the mass of dead cars down the road. "we can get supplies too..!" glenn nods, but lori doesn't seem happy. "this is a graveyard..." she points out, and you sigh. "lori, we need the stuff in this graveyard to survive." you say, walking away to gather some items. daryl follows you, seemingly agreeing to your statement.

you open a car door, peering inside. "ooh! jackpot!" a toothy grin covers your face as you pull out an unopened bottle of whiskey. daryl smirks at the sight, popping the trunk to check for anything useful. you shrug your backpack off to put the whiskey away when a noise catches your attention. a walker gurgles, trying to crawl towards you. you roll your eyes, grumbling about the 'ankle biter' before stomping on it's head with your heavy platform boots.

"they do some good damage?" daryl passes by you, moving on to another car near where t-dog was scavenging gas. "of course they do. i'm the one wearing them." you reply cheekily, adjusting your guitar strap idly. daryl huffs out a laugh, already searching through another car. "don't blow your ego up." he teases, and you chuckle, bumping him when you pass. another zombie catches your gaze in the distance, sluggishly trudging between cars. rick seems to spot it too, aiming but freezing as more seem to pop up. "daryl, look at this shit." you hiss, grabbing his vest roughly to point him in the direction of the approaching horde.

"holy shit..." daryl moves on quickly, going to pull you with him. "hold on, i can lead them away." you say, grabbing your guitar strap. "are you crazy?!" he snaps, going to grab your wrist. "absolutely." you grin, running towards the horde. you couldn't let anyone get hurt, there were kids in this camp. you had already witnessed so much death, feeling useless as you normally held no weapons other than your pocket knife. "this time, i'm gonna be the hero." you nod, ignoring everyone warning you as you vault over the barrier to sneak past.

you had your target, clambering upon the truck and turning up your guitar to max. you give the strings a harsh strum, happy with the tuning. slowly, the undead turn to you, and you grin. "come on, come get some." you whisper under your breath, starting up gently with a few notes. as the crowd slowly turns to you. eventually, as they start approaching you, you turn up your theme, playing your song adeptly. everyone comes out of hiding one by one to watch you, clearly shocked by your confidence.

carl seems to light up as you play your song, having to yell your lyrics so it would be heard over your guitar's loudness. shane and rick quickly gather the group, moving them back so no one would get hurt if a stray zombie wandered off, yet it seemed they all wanted you. the truck rocks slightly as they bang and press on it, yet you keep your balance.

"i'll be chewing on your face and knocking down your door-" you regain balance as the truck wobbles dangerously, glancing around for another safe car. a van was your best bet in case the truck went, but you had to wait for the rest of the horde to catch up. "a pure violation of god's great creation! it's an infestation, it's world domination-!" you belt out, the truck fully swaying by now. you glance up, everyone's staring at you anxiously. you had to come out on top for them.

thinking fast, you jump from the truck, landing on the van and almost slipping. the crowd slowly moves around the truck as it's rocking ceases, and you realise just how dangerous your new pedestal is. you have to keep moving to avoid getting grabbed, jumping across the cars and ignoring how your guitar doesn't hit every note perfectly.

"i never come second place, always been a big disgrace- shit." you dodge a walker quickly, clambering up onto another car. "smell the fear, i know you see- high achiever." you manage to get back on top of a high truck, watching two of the walkers approaching sophia who was at the side of the group. you strum aggressively, yelling your lyrics as far as your diaphragm would allow. "killing so i stay on top but i could never do any wrong! c'mon you freaks! i'm right here!" as sophia scrambles to carol's open arms, the zombies turn to you slowly and you grin.

"sour to the bone marrow, horrid to the core- all you've got is not enough, stupid! i just want more!" you yell, ignoring how the truck starts swaying. "and i'll throw another punch! yes, i'll get the highest score!" you land on the road, almost falling over before hopping over the barrier and leading them away. you had no plan, truly, only knowing that you had to lead the geeks away from the group.

as the music fades into the distance, the crowd of zombies following, the group almost relax. "what the hell are they thinking?!" dale snaps, peeking down from the top of the rv. "whatever they're thinking it worked." daryl huffs, crossing his arms and putting up a hard front to hide his anxiety. "are they gonna be okay?!" carol stresses, smoothing sophia's hair. "that was a LOT of walkers." lori adds on, holding carl close. "they'll be fine." daryl sighs gruffly. "let's wait for them to come back." he shrugs, walking off. "how are they gonna lose that many geeks?" glenn asks, and rick sighs. "let's just hope they do..." shane decides to add onto his friend's sentence. "and that they do it far from here."

night time approaches fast and the group's worry is increasing. carol notes how daryl anxiously scans the tree line for any sign of you. "daryl, come sit down." she sighs, gently touching his back. "nah, ain't that dark yet..." he sighs, perking up as a repeated clicking sounds through the woods. "you guys know y/n?" a woman asks, her horse jumping the barrier with ease. "yeah.. who're you?" daryl tenses.

"they're at my family's farm." the woman neglects his question, "they're hurt pretty bad." she adds, and daryl swears under his breath. "where's your farm?" he asks, approaching the woman. "i'll take you there. it's southeast from here, can't miss it. it's safe. we killed off the horde that was with them." she nods in the direction as daryl straddles the back of her horse before riding off with him.

"damn... they got away." t-dog says in amazement. "but they're injured. c'mon, we'll get ready to head there in the morning." rick nods, and everyone settles for a long night.

daryl dismounts the stranger's horse, running into the house where an old man stood. "they're-" "where are they?!" he snaps, pushing past. "they're resting." the old man replies calmly, leading him to a bed where you lay, a bloody bandage around your arm. "are they bit?" daryl tenses, observing you. you didn't look sick, but daryl couldn't tell in the poor lighting. "no. they got lucky." the man sighs. "i'm hershel greene. the woman who brought you here is my daughter maggie."

"there anyone else?" he asks, and hershel nods. "my other daughter beth and her boyfriend jimmy, my wife as well as otis who is out hunting and his wife patricia. you'll meet them in the morning." the old man nods, leaving daryl be. "you idiot..." he whispers, combing some hair out of your face. "you could've gotten killed." he adds, and you smirk slightly. "at least i helped... are they okay?" you ask, your voice raspy as your eyes peel open.

"everyone's fine, just worried." he shrugs, trying to seem like he doesn't care. "were you worried?" you tease, taking his hand in yours. "nah. but it's rather impressive how you managed to lead them away." he shrugs. "i passed out on these people's front door, i've got no idea how they dealt with those walkers." you cough, resting your hand on your dizzy head. "relax, don't overuse your brain. it ain't used to that much action." daryl smirks, nudging your arm.

"haha, very funny." you roll your eyes, swatting his elbow away. daryl lets out a breath of laughter, looking at you. "once i'm out this bed, i'm gonna try and figure out where the walkers went." you sit up, but daryl grabs you. "naw, you're resting tonight. you need it." he protests, pulling you back into the bed. as daryl goes to get up, you tug him back as well. "same goes to you, cowboy. come rest." you grin, pulling him onto the bed next to you.

daryl lands on his elbow to avoid landing on you. "before you protest, i could use the company right now. got a lot on my mind." you sigh as daryl hesitates before settling down. "wanna talk about it? 'm a good listener." he prompts, but you shake your head. "i'll manage... just need a familiar face right now." you sigh, resting your head on daryl's shoulder. "i get that.. i didn't have much but merle, and he helped me in his own way." daryl nods.

the two of you sit in silence, grieving over both of your losses before the topic changed. "what's wit' your song anyhow?" daryl asks, and you hum in question, looking at your guitar that was neatly leaned against the wall, your blood staining the strap. "dunno. was the first song that came to my head 'suppose." you yawn, voice sleepy. "had to have a loud song for my plan to work." you add, eyes fluttering closed.

daryl shuffles so his chest presses into yours, arm stiffly draping over you. "what if your plan didn't work? i saw that truck wobbling like it was about to tip over." daryl points out, and you shrug. "if it did, i would be dead, or at least bit." you sigh, opening your eyes once more. "you are an idiot." daryl scolds, and you chuckle. "mhm. but it worked. saved your ass anyway." you fall quiet before asking what's nagging your mind.

"is sophia okay?" you mumble, and daryl furrows his brows. "sophia? she's a bit shaken but yeah, she's doin' alright." daryl confirms and you let out a breath. "thank god." you chuckle as daryl shakes his head with a smile. "saw two of them going for her, too far to see if she got grabbed or not." you explain, and daryl hums. "well, she's not bit, carol would be hysterical if she was." daryl notes, and you nod, happy with his answer as you slowly doze off.

you wake up with daryl wrapped up around you tightly. he's normally the first one awake, so you guessed he had a late night. "dixon, c'mon. get up." you shake him gently, ignoring how he groans in protest. "daryl, c'mon! i wanna snoop around!" you whisper yell, jumping as hershel walks in abruptly. "ah, i see you're awake. lemme check your arm." the new presence wakes daryl immediately as he groggily blinks and grips the handle of his knife.

you sit up, letting hershel peel back the bandages with a yucky noise. you wince, letting out a pained noise as he pokes the flesh around your gash. "there's still bark in there from where that stick stabbed you." he notes with a sigh. "bark?" daryl sits up, watching hershel slowly press the bandages back onto the wound. "careful!" your friend snaps as you let out a strangled noise. "don't worry, they'll be fine." hershel replies, nonchalantly.

you pat your arm gently as if to soothe it as daryl broods, leaning over you protectively. "let's clean it up and get some fresh bandages on it." hershel gathers some material and his tools as well as calling to his wife to bring a bowl of water.

soon enough, you're say with an arrow in your mouth as hershel pulls the last piece of bark out of your arm, dropping it onto a tray where it clutters uselessly onto the metal. "right, let's clean it." he mumbles, mainly to himself as he wets a small cotton ball in water with a pair of tongs. with every gentle dab against your gash, you whimper, teeth clutching the metal of the arrow.

your free hand grabs the nearest thing to you which happened to be daryl's hand, squeezing tightly for reassurance as your eyes flutter closed. "do y'think it'll need stitches?" patricia asks, to which you shake your head. "i'm not having stitches." you protest, words muffled by the object you're biting. "unfortunately, you may need them..." hershel sighs, and you shake your head as he puts the tongs down. spitting out the arrow, you glare at hershel. "i'm not having them." you declare, barely being able to raise your arm to look at the wound crossing your bicep.

"i'm afraid you might have to. it's deeper than i thought." hershel nods, looking for his needle and thread that patricia hands to him. "i'm not having them!" you panic, scrambling back from the man and almost falling off the bed. daryl catches you, steadying you and glares at hershel. "y/n..." hershel tries but daryl snaps. "if they don't want 'em they ain't havin' them!" he snarls, and hershel backs down.

"fine. i can't force you." hershel sighs, putting the needle and thread down as you calm your breathing. daryl rubs your back soothingly, helping you unwind faster as maggie barges in. "daddy! the others are here." she informs, before leaving. hershel nods, gesturing for you to come over to him with some bandages. "i'll do it. patched up a fair amount of people in my time." daryl extends his hand to hershel who hands them over. "alright, but if you get it wrong i'll redo them."

with hershel gone and patricia following, you relax slightly as daryl readies your arm before gently wrapping the bandages around your bicep. "why don't you want stitches?" he asks, and you shudder. "i don't want a needle going through my arm!" your spine shivers at the thought. "naw, i get that.." he mumbles, carefully pinning the bandages into place with a safety pin. "done, c'mon. let's go see the others." he nods to the door, helping you up.

glenn smiles brightly at you, wrapping you up in a hug. "ow- careful- careful!" you hiss as he accidentally presses into your wound. "sorry!" he stumbles back, and carl bounds up to you. "y/n! you're alright!" he smiles brightly, and you smile awkwardly. "yeah..! i'm alright." you tense as he hugs you tightly, awkwardly patting his head and looking at lori for help. his mother laughs, beckoning him over. "you were so cool! the way they all looked at you and you didn't even get scared!" the boy beamed, practically vibrating.

"carl, c'mon!" sophia beams, gesturing to a swing nearby. "stay in sight of me or carol!" lori reminds and they nod. "glad to see you're alright." shane nods to your arm, and you grin. "i'm tough. had plenty of bottles to the head or thrown at me. i'll live." you cross your arms, glancing at daryl. "what happened anyway?" dale asked as hershel guided everyone to the house away from the tree line. "stray branch stabbed me. nothing awful." you shrug, peering to the barn curiously.

"daryl, i'm gonna go walk around, stretch my legs. you coming?" you smile, and daryl nods. "sure." you grab his hand to pull him away, but hershel stops you. "don't go too far and don't go in the barn. nothing in there but old rusty tools anyway and the last thing i need is another injury." he warns, and you sigh. "fine fine, no barn concert then." you grin, pulling daryl away from the group.

"you're going in anyway, aren't you?" daryl smirks, following you closely. "of course. are you saying you wouldn't?" you giggle before hearing carol yelp. "sophia?!" the two of you turn to see the mother searching the area around the swing desperately. "shit..! another time then." you run back to the group with daryl hot on your tail.

"carl said they were gonna play hide and seek so he doesn't know... i'm sure she didn't go far." rick sighs, adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes as he scans the tree line. "hershel, any idea of where she could hide around here?" shane asks, but hershel shakes his head. "nothing around here but open field..." he gestures around, and carol hiccups a sonb as lori tries to comfort her.

you look at daryl before glancing to the barn. "is she behind the barn?" you ask, and hershel falls quiet. "could be... but there's no way in other than the doors and we would of seen her go in." he shrugs. "me and daryl can scan around there, see what we can find." you nod, and daryl heads off in that direction. "don't go in!" hershel reminds you, and you feel your spine tickle with suspicion. "what a weirdo..." you roll your eyes and daryl hums.

you walk around the barn, gently calling out for sophia. "nothing..." you sigh, looking around. "hey, see that?" daryl asks, and you turn to where he points. "an open window..." you grin. "gimme a lift, i'm gonna take a peek." daryl crouches behind you, grabbing your hips and hoisting you up so you can grab the windowsill.

"see anything?" he asks, but you shake your head, squinting harshly to try and see. "nah, it's too dark." you gesture for the flashlight daryl carries, and he hands it to you carefully to ensure he wouldn't drop you.

the light flickers, slowly blinking to life and you gasp, almost falling backwards. "holy shit!" you yelp, and daryl panics, pulling you back down. "what, what's in there?" he asks as you recover from the sight. "we need to go! there's a LOT of walkers in there!" you gasp, running back to the group.

[jingyismom]

Another twt threadfic import! Wangxian, 9k, post-CQL getting together Explicit, No Warnings POV switches wildly at will, and LWJ gets drunk but nothing happens at that point! Proceed for humor, tension, sweetness, and spice.

Anybody else think about what would happen if post-CQL, pre-relationship wangxian were traveling and Lan Do-Not-Indulge-In-Pleasure Wangji walked in on his very good friend Wei Wuxian...

...Indulging In Pleasure?

First, he would Run. Door slammed shut. Possibly colliding with a few walls while he tries to figure out how to Get Away to Meditate Immediately.

Wei Wuxian comes after him asap to apologize. There is a lot of overlapping apologizing, and little to no eye contact.

Maybe after, though, Wei Wuxian would feel a little...frisky. And a tiny bit defensive. "Lan Zhan, everybody does it!! It's not THAT upsetting!"

Lan Wangji cuts a glare at him. "Everyone does not do it."

Wei Wuxian suddenly has a lot of new things to think about.

(This is only ONE interpretation of Lan Wangji's relationship to self-pleasure...but it's a pretty fun one imo)

Wei Wuxian can't stop thinking about it. Has Lan Wangji really never...like NEVER never...is that. How could he even ask that? He can't, right? It'd be weird.

It Eats At Him. He loses sleep.

Coincidentally, so does Lan Wangji. They both lie awake at night in their shared room, very determinedly Not Thinking About the things they have learned.

Lan Wangji recites rules for hours trying to get the image of what Wei Wuxian looks like when he's doing THAT out of his mind.

Maybe, ages after Wei Wuxian thought Lan Wangji had fallen asleep, he hears him shift. It's a small sound but Wei Wuxian knows Lan Wangji doesn't move at all when he's really out.

"Can't sleep?" He says into the dark.

Lan Wangji takes a long time to answer. He's debating pretending not to hear. "No."

Wei Wuxian sort of thinks he knows why, but isn't sure exactly WHY why...like. Is Lan Wangji freaked out and disgusted? Is he confused? Is he...intrigued?

"It's because of the rules, right?" He asks instead. "It's a Lan thing."

Again, Lan Wangji takes a long time to answer.

It is only partly true. It is a rule, in a way. At least, that's how Lan Wangji had interpreted it when he was young. But it became a mixture of habit and shame, of self-disgust. And then after Nightless City, it simply did not occur to him. His body did not seem to work that way anymore.

He can't say any of that.

"Yes." It's not entirely a lie.

The horrible inconvenience of his body working that way, again, now, is another thing entirely. He does his best to ignore it. He does not want to address it. Meditation is his best friend once again.

"I really thought you'd started bending rules," Wei Wuxian muses aloud. "That's such a...specific one to stick to."

Lan Wangji has no answer for this. He honestly agrees.

After a pause Wei Wuxian goes on. "You never even thought about it? What about if you marry? Or what if you NEVER marry?"

Even in the oddly comforting unreality of the dead of night, Lan Wangji can't begin to discuss most of this.

"You said yourself no woman would want to marry me," he deflects.

"Ugh, did I?" Wei Wuxian says. "I suppose I did. Stupid. Anybody would be crazy not to want to marry you."

The silence after this declaration is particularly loud. Wei Wuxian covers it with an awkward laugh. "Anyway, I guess you probably think it's just another way the rest of the world is...gross. And...debaucherous. Huh."

Lan Wangji hears the self-effacement in his tone. "No. It is natural."

Wei Wuxian goes silent for a long moment. "Then why the rule?"

"It is...easier," Lan Wangji struggles to merge truth with the fib. "To deny one's—it is not a question of judgment. Do not worry, Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian huffs. "I'm not worried, Lan Zhan." Well, he's not anymore. But then he processes the rest of it. "So. Then, it's less of a rule? And...more of...a...guideline?"

Lan Wangji says nothing. He's already said too much. He should be asleep. He should have pretended he was.

Wei Wuxian doesn't know why he's pushing this so hard. He can't make his mouth stop saying words, carried forward on a tide of morbid curiosity and an abstract sense of unjust wastefulness. If Lan Wangji is going to miss out on the natural pleasures of life, he at least wants to understand.

"That's a lot of years of dedication to a not-rule," he says.

Lan Wangji is silent, again.

"Must be difficult," Wei Wuxian insists.

Lan Wangji resists the urge to say both "it isn't" and "it is."

"You're not even curious?"

Lan Wangji is not. He understands the concept. Understands the truly unsettling ferocity of his own feelings, his own desire. Understands that some things, once begun, have a way of getting under one's skin and living there. The combination of these things is unthinkable.

"You could ask, if you were," Wei Wuxian goes on, unperturbed. "I don't mind."

This is not what Lan Wangji thought he meant. His mind is suddenly bursting with the most inappropriate of questions: mainly, horribly, "What do you think of, when you do it?"

"I would not," he manages to say.

"No, you wouldn't, would you," Wei Wuxian concedes. He is aware, distantly, that he is trying to cover up the acute awkwardness of being caught with his dick out with the hazier, less severe awkwardness of talking too much. It doesn't stop him. "You're not made of jade, but you do like to pretend you are."

He knows, immediately, even before Lan Wangji's sharp intake of breath, that he's said the wrong thing.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I didn't mean that. I didn't." The silence is accusing, unforgiving. "I'm sorry. That was wrong."

Lan Wangji just lies there, silently blindsided. This is how Wei Wuxian sees him. Not as the bloodless statue of a man others see, but as a man desperately trying to realize that vision. And this...all of this, has only reinforced it.

"No," he says quietly. "You are right. It is easier."

"You keep saying that," Wei Wuxian says after a thoughtful silence. "Easier than what?"

This, Lan Wangji does not have the words to explain. There is no way to encompass the depth and breadth of it.

"It is time for sleep," he says.

Wei Wuxian chuckles darkly. "It was time for sleep ages ago. But alright. I can take a hint."

Neither of them sleep.

~~~

Days pass, and they do not speak of the incident again, though neither of them find themselves capable of forgetting it. The next time it comes up is completely by virtue of a series of accidents.

At dinner Wei Wuxian, in the habit of adding more food to Lan Wangji's bowl every time Lan Wangji adds some to his, does so without looking at what he is doing. When Lan Wangji hurries to douse the fire on his tongue with water, the nearest cup to his grasp contains something else entirely.

Wei Wuxian fortunately catches him before his head hits the table, this time.

When he wakes, bleary and unsteady, Wei Wuxian hustles him up and over to the stairs before he can get loose and wreak havoc. He learned his lesson the last time.

He helps Lan Wangji up to their room with an arm around his waist, and it's necessary but still feels a little bit like a violation. Lan Wangji does not like to be touched. It is probably a blessing that he won't remember this come morning.

Wei Wuxian is proud that they only stumble once before he figures out how to hold up the hems of both their robes with his one free hand, even with the distracting, warm weight of Lan Wangji's head on his shoulder. Once in the room, however, Wei Wuxian begins to regret his strategy of supervised confinement. There is nothing to do but sit while Lan Wangji stares at him, unfocused but intent.

"Lan Zhan...are you in there?"

Lan Wangji nods but doesn't break his stare. The room feels uncomfortably warm.

Wei Wuxian rolls his head back to look at the ceiling. Maybe a couple of petty crimes are worth ending this...but no. It wouldn't do to have rumors of Hanguang-jun vandalizing farms across the land. As funny as it would be, it wouldn't do at all. Wei Wuxian groans.

He stands and begins to putter around the room, pacing when that fails. Lan Wangji watches him with his silent, heavy gaze. The room really is far too warm.

Wei Wuxian unbuckles his belt to get rid of his thick outermost layer. Lan Wangji makes a small noise and laboriously turns himself around to face the wall.

"Lan Zhan? You alright?"

"Mn," comes the reply, with an exaggerated nod.

"What are you looking at over there?" He's irrationally half afraid Lan Wangji could start hallucinating.

"Away."

"A what?"

"Looking away."

"From?"

Lan Wangji glances over his shoulder, slow and shy, his heavy-lidded eyes falling on Wei Wuxian's hands at his belt.

The room gets warmer.

"Ah...hahaha...Lan Zhan. I'm just feeling a little hot, okay? Don't spit blood."

He takes off his belt. Lan Wangji faces the wall. When he shrugs off his long, thick vest, Lan Wangji starts wobbling, and it takes Wei Wuxian a confused minute before he realizes he's trying to stand up. He rushes to help.

"What now??"

"Leaving."

Wei Wuxian sighs. It has begun.

"You can't leave, Lan Zhan, it's late. Where will you go?"

"Outside." He's tugging insistently against the hand holding onto his arm.

"Okay," Wei Wuxian relents. He does sort of want to get out of this room. Get some fresh air. "Alright. Let's go."

Lan Wangji makes a distressed noise and tears his arm away. "Alone."

Wei Wuxian stares. "You can't—why?"

"Privacy."

"You—what do you need—" Wei Wuxian deliberately drops the question. "Sorry, Lan Zhan, you can have privacy in here, OR you can go outside. Not both."

Lan Wangji pouts. It's horrible. Wei Wuxian is not equipped to handle it. He opens his mouth to distract him.

Lan Wangji speaks first. "Not me. You."

"Me what?"

"Privacy."

Wei Wuxian's brain stalls, unable to follow Lan Wangji's logic. "What for?"

Lan Wangji makes a gesture at him that manages to be sloppy, elegant, and vaguely suggestive all at once. Wei Wuxian's face heats.

"I'm--I'm not. Doing. I wasn't going to do anything, Lan Zhan. I was just taking off one layer, see? To be more comfortable."

Lan Wangji blinks, unfocused, and sways. He's silent long enough that Wei Wuxian starts to relax and hope that he might just fall asleep. Which would be a blessing, given how difficult his heavy stare and softly parted lips are making it for Wei Wuxian not to Think Bad Thoughts.

Lan Wangji, however, is trying very hard to think thoughts with very limited success.

"Why?"

Wei Wuxian frowns at him. Which is bad.

"Why not?" He tries again. His words are not very good at present.

"Why am I not comfortable? It's a warm night."

Wei Wuxian is speaking slowly, like Lan Wangji is a child who does not understand such things. Lan Wangji frowns. He understands plenty.

He shakes his head and makes the motion again, the one Wei Wuxian understood. "Why not?"

Wei Wuxian is silent a long while, his face screwed up strangely. Lan Wangji wants to pat it smooth but knows he should not.

"It's..hah, Lan Zhan, it's not like people are always...you're not always...in the mood, you know?"

Lan Wangji does not know. He cannot, at this moment, conceive of not being at least slightly aroused. And besides there is nothing different now from the time he had seen—no, he does not think of that.

"Why?"

Wei Wuxian sighs. He almost looks sad. That's bad.

"Sometimes you're thinking of other things, or busy, or lonely, or..."

Wei Wuxian keeps speaking, but Lan Wangji has stopped listening. Wei Wuxian need not be lonely. He is here. He can help. He can help with this and Wei Wuxian will stop looking sad.

"Not alone," he says. "’M here."

Wei Wuxian stops talking, and smiles at him. Good.

"That's true."

Lan Wangji nods. Good. Wei Wuxian smiles some more, and shakes his head.

"Don't you think it's time to go to bed, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji's ears heat. He would like to. He did not expect Wei Wuxian to ask. He nods and takes Wei Wuxian's wrist, pulling him toward the bed. Wei Wuxian makes an odd sound when they get there, and Lan Wangji looks down at where he's holding onto him, to make sure his grip is not too tight.

"Lan Zhan, I'm not sleepy," Wei Wuxian says. "You can...you can sleep though."

Lan Wangji stares at him with that same, open-mouthed stare. Wei Wuxian's own mouth is very dry.

"Not sleepy."

"Okay," says Wei Wuxian, jittery. "Maybe. You could just try lying down. And see if you get sleepy."

Lan Wangji looks at the bed. And then looks at Wei Wuxian.

"Not sleepy."

"...Okay."

Lan Wangji tugs on Wei Wuxian's wrist. Wei Wuxian's stomach lurches. He clears his throat.

"What is it?"

Unsteadily, Lan Wangji turns toward him. He reaches for the ties of Wei Wuxian's robes.

Wei Wuxian grabs his wrists and holds them away from himself as if they're on fire. A nervous laugh fights its way out of his mouth.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I...I'm good. I'm not warm anymore. I'm fine. Happy. Like this. Okay?"

"Happy," Lan Wangji repeats.

"Yeah."

Lan Wangji seems to consider this.

Eventually, he relents, and goes to sleep.

Wei Wuxian sits up all night wondering if Lan Wangji was actually trying to do what it seemed like he was trying to do, and what it might mean if he was.

~~~

The time after that, it is Wei Wuxian's fault entirely.

It has been three days since Lan Wangji's accidental drunken night, and Wei Wuxian can't stop thinking about the intent in his drowsy gaze, or the brief second Lan Wangji's hands were at his waist. Every night when they go to bed, the room, the inn, are different. But the tension created in his spine by the memory of wanting and being so close but so far, is the same.

Wei Wuxian wants to drink.

But he knows that he probably should not under any circumstances get tipsy alone with Lan Wangji if he wants to preserve their friendship. So drinking is out. But he needs...he feels like he's going crazy. He needs some kind of...release. And it's been days, he's been too keyed up to try jerking off since The Incident. Plus Lan Wangji has just always been nearby. Which is great, actually, he would gladly go on forever this way, but it's also not ideal when being around him at all has been getting him half hard with no way to take care of it.

But they're two mature adults. They fight monsters every day. Wei Wuxian has been dead for crying out loud. It shouldn't be hard to ask for some privacy. It's understandable that he should need some, sometimes. Lan Wangji had seemed to understand even when he was drunk out of his mind. Of course he understands—Wei Wuxian has only gone a few days and he's starting to fray, imagine Lan Wangji going all these years without. Imagine if he ever did...it

would probably be. It'd probably be...really...

He doesn't think about it. He doesn't ask.

He decides to sneak off into the woods, instead. Except, when he gets up to leave, Lan Wangji gets up as well.

"Ah...are you. Going out too?" Wei Wuxian asks.

Lan Wangji blinks at him, and backs up a step in that unconscious way of his. "Apologies. I assumed, from the hour, that you had deemed it was time for us to eat."

"Oh. We could do that."

Lan Wangji shakes his head. "I would not infringe on your plans."

Wei Wuxian cringes internally. "You're not. I was just...I was just. Going. Out. To...to walk."

Lan Wangji stares at him with new suspicion. Wei Wuxian crumbles.

"I needed some privacy."

Lan Wangji's ears heat, and his eyes slip to the ground. "I see."

Wei Wuxian turns as if to leave again, and suddenly Lan Wangji realizes that he has nowhere to go.

"Stay. I will go."

"Ah, you don't have to, Lan Zhan, don't worry about it."

"Nonsense. It is more comfortable here."

He barely gets through the sentence once it registers what he is saying. What they are discussing happening in this room. His ears are on fire.

"Yeah which is why you should just stay here, comfortable."

Lan Wangji shakes his head and moves to brush past him.

"Or we could both say."

Wei Wuxian has no idea what makes him say it. He's playing with fire, and this was not the plan. But he keeps hearing Lan Wangji's sad voice saying it is easier. The loneliness in it. A twisted part of him doesn't want Lan Wangji to be left out in the cold. Literally or metaphorically.

Lan Wangji has frozen. He does not know what Wei Wuxian is suggesting. Does not want to assume. Does not want to even entertain the idea that he might mean—

"I don't mind if you don't," Wei Wuxian goes on.

Mind? Lan Wangji does not mind. That is not the cause of the white noise now roaring in his head.

"It's up to you. We both stay, or I can go,” says Wei Wuxian.

It is childishly manipulative, transparently so. On reflex, Lan Wangji cuts a glare at him, but quickly looks away. It feels lewd to look at him at all, just now.

"You could...play a song, or something, if..."

Lan Wangji has to look at him then. He wants him to play for him while he...while he...

Wei Wuxian's face scrunches up. "That...that's probably. This is probably weird. You probably don't want to be aware of—this was weird. Forget it. You can go, I can go. I just thought you might not mind, since—"

He cuts off as if he's said something he didn't mean to.

"Since?" Lan Wangji prompts. He has no idea where the sentence was meant to lead.

"Ah..." Wei Wuxian rubs the back of his head. "That night you drank my wine," he starts.

Lan Wangji's stomach drops.

"Ah, it's nothing bad!" Wei Wuxian hurries to say. "Don't look so upset."

"What did I say?"

Wei Wuxian has been acting distant the last few days. This explains everything. He must have said something untoward. Unacceptable.

"You didn't really say anything much."

Lan Wangji's alarm heightens.

"Did I—do—"

"Don't worry!" Wei Wuxian almost shouts. He can't handle the stricken expression on Lan Wangji's usually calm face. "You didn't do anything bad."

"Then what—"

"You...sort of. You. You wanted to help, is all."

Lan Wangji's eyes widen further. He looks absolutely horrified. Wei Wuxian wants to kick himself.

"I—it wasn't—"

Except it was sort of like that. But not in...not in a bad way. It was sort of...weirdly cute. He doesn't think he can say that. He takes a deep breath.

"It wasn't bad. Nothing happened. You just seemed...you weren't upset by the concept."

Lan Wangji stares at him.

"...But you clearly are now, so."

There is a long, awkward silence. Lan Wangji stares hard at the wall.

"It does not upset me," he hazards. He wants to be clear on this. Does not want Wei Wuxian to think him judgmental, or a prude.

"Okay."

"It is natural to require privacy for such things."

"Yes."

"Therefore I shall leave you."

"...If you like."

That strange opening, once again. The offer to...to share space, while he—

"What would you like?" Lan Wangji finds himself saying. His breath leaves him with the words.

"I'd like to know what really keeps you from doing it, even now."

Lan Wangji looks at him, shocked.

"If you just didn't want to, or didn't feel like it, that would be one thing," he goes on, "but that's not what you said."

Lan Wangji curses himself for speaking so freely, that night. "Why does it matter?"

Wei Wuxian frowns at him, thinking.

"Because sometimes, I think you find little ways to punish yourself. You don't deserve that. Especially not like this."

It feels like a physical strike, and Lan Wangji flinches from it. The worst part of it is that it might even be true.

"Pot. Kettle. Black," he counters.

Wei Wuxian huffs. "That's fair. Yeah, that's fair."

"So is your point," Lan Wangji is forced to concede. "Possibly."

Wei Wuxian's eyebrows shoot up. "Well, that...that's unfortunate."

"If you say so."

"We should do something about it."

The both of them go very still.

Wei Wuxian did not mean it to sound like such a pointed suggestion.

Lan Wangji does not know what to do with it.

Wei Wuxian laughs again, but it trails off pitifully.

"I didn't mean—" he starts at the same time Lan Wangji says,

"Alright."

They both snap their mouths shut.

Lan Wangji knows he has said the wrong thing, now. Knows he has given away a weakness, read the wrong thing into their situation, making it hopelessly awkward between them at last.

Wei Wuxian takes stock. It's rare for Lan Wangji to express himself like this. He can't shoot him down. He can't let that wounded look stay on his face.

"You could try it," he says. "I could...whatever you need." That sounds wrong. He tries again. "I could answer...questions. Or I could. Be moral support." Everything he says sounds stupid.

Lan Wangji is turning slowly pink. It's extremely fetching. Wei Wuxian can't help but try to deepen the shade, an old reflex.

"I could show you how."

It's a joke, and it's not. He meant to tease, probably. It did not come out that way at all. He can't take it back.

Lan Wangji thinks he should probably feel patronized, but his heart is thudding too hard for him to think clearly. He should say no. Of course he should. He knows what this would do to him, knows he would never be able to look at Wei Wuxian the same. He is already tortured constantly by the glimpse he accidentally stole. This would make things exponentially worse.

But at the same time, contrary to popular belief, he is only a man. How is he to deny something so close to what he has always wanted, freely given? No matter that it means nothing. He cannot quite refuse outright.

"I understand the mechanics," he says instead. Neither a yes nor a no.

Wei Wuxian smiles crookedly. "There's a little more to it than that."

This is somewhat of a genuine surprise. It must show on his face.

"Tips and tricks," Wei Wuxian says, "I know a few."

Lan Wangji can feel his face flushing now, hot and likely obvious. It is not a usual occurrence.

"I've had way more practice than you, you have to admit."

Lan Wangji generally tries not to think of it. "I suppose."

"Ah, Lan Zhan, are you mad there's something I'm better at than you?"

"Of course not," Lan Wangji replies, automatic. "You are very skilled at many things."

Wei Wuxian is grinning at him now. It feels more natural. He realizes he's been baited into relaxing somewhat.

"Alright," says Wei Wuxian, his grin fading a little, "if it's too awkward, then forget it. But the offer stands."

Lan Wangji feels very much pulled along by Wei Wuxian's current. It is a familiar feeling. He does the only thing he knows how to do any longer: he gives in.

"Alright."

Wei Wuxian blinks. In absolutely no part of his mind had he expected Lan Wangji to accept. He doesn't know what he thought. He wasn't actually thinking.

And now...

He. Well. Now he has to do as he said he would.

"Alright," he echoes back. "I...then. Alright."

It should be easy, in a sense. Once he'd become an official Jiang disciple and entered the dorms, it had become a necessity to tune out the presence of other people. But other people aren't Lan Wangji. And he can't remember anyone ever watching. That's certainly...something else. 

He goes back into the bedroom, stripping off layers as he goes. He leaves most of them on—he's pretty sure this isn't supposed to be that kind of show.

Unless it is.

But it's not.

He turns to find Lan Wangji hovering, eyes averted, very much visibly embarrassed, and he has a very genius, very stupid idea.

As a teacher, he has come to appreciate that interactive learning is a powerful tool.

"Lan Zhan," he says, "learning by doing works best, sometimes."

"That is true," Lan Wangji says slowly.

Wei Wuxian shrugs. "Just an idea."

"Clarify." He does not want to misunderstand again.

Wei Wuxian fights his own blush at being made to say it. "We could do it at the same time. I could show you and you could try it. That way I could...you could. It might help."

Help what, he's not sure. He knows how all of this sounds. And yet here they are. He just can't stop himself.

Lan Wangji is having trouble deciding which of Wei Wuxian's suggestions should be accepted and which should be dismissed. He is unversed in what parts of this might cross the line of friendship.

But Wei Wuxian is offering. And in a deep, secret place, deeper even than his hopeless love, a part of him not only wants to see Wei Wuxian this way, but wants to be seen by him. He wants Wei Wuxian to have this part of him, whether he would care to keep it or not. He wants to give it to him more than he wants to have it himself.

"How?"

Wei Wuxian has once again not thought that far ahead. He scans the room, mind scrambling.

"Well. I...could sit. Here. And then you could also...you could sit."

He's staring at his bed, trying to think of a way this is not just him asking Lan Wangji to climb into bed with him. It occurs to him that's what he's been doing this entire time. He almost panics, but then...

Lan Wangji has been agreeing.

He looks at him again. Really looks. He's embarrassed, yes. A little lost. But underneath that, he looks determined.

For whatever reason, Lan Wangji wants this.

It settles the disquiet in Wei Wuxian. There's something Lan Wangji needs, here, and he's in a position to figure out how to let him have it. That's as worthy a cause as any.

"Get comfortable first," he says. "No Hanguang-jun allowed, this lesson is for Lan Zhan only."

Lan Wangji reaches up to take down his elaborate set of hair ornaments, and Wei Wuxian turns to consider the bed. It doesn't look very comfortable to lean on any part of it, so sitting is probably not ideal. It might be a hard sell, but he sees only one option.

"Lan Zhan—"

Lan Wangji is standing behind him, undone and soft. Smaller, without his tall hair and his billowing layers. Vulnerable. Wei Wuxian's heart does something complicated but familiar, and then picks up its pace. He'll have to tread carefully. To be careful with him.

"We'll just lie down first," he says. "Get used to that and go from there."

He expects A Look at the concept of getting used to lying down. But Lan Wangji only nods at the floorboards.

It's a little bit heartbreaking. Wei Wuxian is fairly certain a comforting touch wouldn't help. He stretches out and shimmies over to the side, as far as he can go to leave room. Lan Wangji only hesitates a moment before following suit. It's unfair how graceful he is, even in moments like this.

"Alright?" Wei Wuxian keeps his voice as soft and unobtrusive as he can.

Lan Wangji nods at the ceiling this time, his hands folded over his chest as if ready for sleep.

"It's really not a big deal, once you're used to it," he says, letting his mouth run. "It's like eating, or playing music. You figure out the ways you like to do it, and

try to get better at them." 

He feels silly, giving a lecture on this, but he thinks the chatter is having the desired calming effect. Lan Wangji's breathing looks deeper. More even. But maybe he shouldn't be staring at him so much just now.

He turns to the ceiling, too.

"It's good to start slowly," he says. "Relax, get your body tuned into touch the way you want it to be. Don't just dive straight in."

There is a beat of silence, of stillness.

He actually has to do this now.

He takes a breath and pulls open his robes. Sets a hand on bare skin.

"Like this."

Lan Wangji can barely hear him over the rushing, pounding blood in his ears, in his mind, in his everywhere. He is aware of movement beside him, and the awareness that Wei Wuxian is undressing further, is bare, is touching himself, floods him with something like burning slush.

"Whenever you're ready," Wei Wuxian says, and the rustle of fabric sounds lewd in the silence. "Just touch your stomach or something. Ground yourself."

Hastily, jerkily, Lan Wangji unties his robes and tunic, opening them just enough to lay fingertips on flesh. 

He cannot get enough air.

"When that feels nice, you can try something else. Like finding other places that feel particularly good. You know."

Lan Wangji has vague ideas. He does not really know. Does not think he could find them now, like this, strung so tightly.

"And whenever you feel like it, you can move on to more things. Or even The Thing, depending on how it feels."

Lan Wangji hears the slide of skin on skin. Hears Wei Wuxian's hand moving lower. The displacement of the waistband of his trousers.

He has never been so hard in his life. He wonders if it is possible to die from such a thing. He feels as if he might.

"How is it?" Wei Wuxian asks. His voice is breathier than it was a moment ago.

Lan Wangji feels dampness bloom in his own trousers. He clenches his fists and shuts his eyes.

"Lan Zhan?"

Wei Wuxian glances over, and sees the pained look on Lan Wangji's face. He stops the light, tentative touch he's been using on himself.

"What is it?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head. Wei Wuxian frowns.

"We can stop this right now," he says. "I'm sorry if I pushed it too far. I..."

"No," says Lan Wangji. "You did not. It is not your fault. I should not have agreed."

"Why not?"

Lan Wangji does not know where to begin.

"I should have known I would not be able to."

Wei Wuxian considers this. "There's nothing wrong with not being able to...perform. Under pressure. That—"

Reflexively, he glances down at him, and learns with immediate, brain-melting clarity that performance is not the issue. The sight chokes off the rest of his words. He tries to compose himself. He’s supposed to be helping, not panting like a dog. That's just taking advantage.

"Or. Ah...Do you feel like trying to tell me what the problem is?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head and blows out a frustrated breath. "I am sorry."

"Don't apologize," Wei Wuxian says, resisting the guilt that wants to spring on him. He can troubleshoot this. It's Lan Zhan. He deserves to feel good. "Is it just because I'm here? I can go."

"No," Lan Wangji says quickly. "I will go."

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian says gently. "You can't go out in public like that."

Lan Wangji knows this. And he has had this problem before, to a lesser extent. He is very good at getting rid of it. Only just now, with Wei Wuxian's warmth palpable beside him, he finds himself unable to concentrate. 

Embarrassment and frustration are rolling off of Lan Wangji in waves. Wei Wuxian casts about, desperate for a solution to the distress he has inadvertently caused.

"Lan Zhan, relax. It's only me. We have time to figure it out. Take a deep breath."

Lan Wangji breathes. It shudders out of him.

"Can I help?" Wei Wuxian asks.

He means it in a general way.

Lan Wangji's eyes snap open and fix him with a disbelieving stare, and he hears, then, how it sounded.

But Lan Wangji looks so...helpless. Almost pleading.

He doubles down.

"Let me help."

Lan Wangji stares at him with confusion just on the edge of fear. Wei Wuxian reaches out to hover a hand over his arm.

"Can I touch you?"

He sees Lan Wangji's throat bob as he swallows hard. He gives the slightest of nods. Wei Wuxian presses down on his bicep in what he hopes is a comforting way, and sweeps his thumb back and forth. Lan Wangji is so warm, even through his remaining layers.

"It's only me," Wei Wuxian says again. He runs his hand down to the fist curled tightly on Lan Wangji's stomach and gently pries it open. He wraps his fingers around his hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb until it relaxes. "It's just us. You trust me, and I trust you, right? Nothing to worry about."

Every word Wei Wuxian says is like another blade to Lan Wangji's gut. He should not be allowing this. In the name of trust, he should not let Wei Wuxian touch him with kindness, with the assumption of pure friendship. He should stop this.

But Wei Wuxian's hand is warm on his. A gesture so simple, reducing Lan Wangji to a hopeless, lovestruck fool. He cannot pull away from it. He could not bear to.

But then Wei Wuxian is moving their hands to rest on the bed between them, and letting go. He slides his hand back up Lan Wangji's arm to his shoulder, then down just slightly. Almost to his chest. Lan Wangji cannot breathe.

Wei Wuxian goes up on an elbow, looking down at him. His robes fall open just slightly, revealing a slice of skin. Lan Wangji looks away.

"Can I show you?" Wei Wuxian asks softly. His hand is a heavy weight. He is asking...he is asking to...

Lan Wangji should say no.

He cannot say it.

He nods. 

When Wei Wuxian's hand moves, when it slides to the center of his chest and beneath the fabric there, Lan Wangji closes his eyes. The first touch is a shock. With considerable effort, he does not flinch. He does not gasp. He keeps still and quiet as the small, shivery waves of sensation roll across his body, growing and fading as more of Wei Wuxian's hand comes in contact with his skin. It rests there, then, and Lan Wangji is grateful for the pause. He needs it to calm himself, to keep from shaking out of his body and into the ether.

But then it begins to move, a slow caress, and Lan Wangji feels all of his hair stand on end.

He did not know touch could feel like this.

"Alright?" Wei Wuxian asks, his hand petting up and down the center of Lan Wangji's chest, gradually widening into oblong circles.

The bright softness of it is beginning to overwhelm Lan Wangji, the sharp awareness it brings to his body unfamiliar and heady. He nods.

They have come this far. He does not know what it would do to him to stop, now. The only way out is through.

Wei Wuxian brushes his fingers out deliberately farther, catching across a nipple. Lan Wangji does not manage to stop his shocked intake of breath at the difference in feeling, at the very pointed, very intense pleasure. Wei Wuxian circles his fingertips almost casually, and does it again. As if it is directly connected, his cock jerks, the damp spot in his trouser spreading. Again, and he clenches his teeth against the sounds working up in his throat.

"Is that too much?" Wei Wuxian asks. He feels unsteady, jittery with adrenaline and determination. He can't believe Lan Wangji is letting him do this. He knows he has to make the most of this one chance.

Lan Wangji shakes his head, and Wei Wuxian gives his nipple a gentle squeeze. At that, Lan Wangji does gasp quietly, his hands fisting tight in the bedding.

"Enough," he forces out, hoarse.

Wei Wuxian's fingers still. "You want—you want me to—"

Lan Wangji nods, his skin flushed with embarrassment and arousal in equal parts. Wei Wuxian moves his hand to rest low on Lan Wangji's stomach, and all his muscles jump and tense in response. It is too intimate, this touch, somehow. More intimate than the others. His cock aches, and leaks, and he is nearly tempted to take it in hand himself. But he is paralyzed still by fearful embarrassment, and now also by his ferocious desire, empowered by all this unexpected fulfillment of distant, illicit hopes.

He waits.

"Lan Zhan, look at me," Wei Wuxian murmurs. He doesn't think he can do this without looking into his eyes and knowing he's really alright.

Lan Wangji's eyes open with a flutter of dark lashes, and their darkness, their intensity, shocks straight through to Wei Wuxian's own arousal. He had expected discomfort and uncertainty. The nerves are there, the slight fear, too, and the embarrassment, yes. But these are nearly subsumed by stormy, determined desire.

Wei Wuxian sees now, he thinks, what Lan Wangji meant. How simply not giving in to the slightest temptation might prove easier than keeping such fierce feeling leashed. He had not realized Lan Wangji might contain such heat, such extraordinary worldly needfulness.

It's insanely arousing. Wei Wuxian struggles not to fall upon him and ravish him on the best of days, but this...

He clears his throat. "Ready?"

Eyes still locked on Wei Wuxian's, Lan Wangji nods, clear and careful. Wei Wuxian slips his hand down, beneath his waistband, immediately hot and slick. He can feel Lan Wangji's hard muscles twitching beneath smooth skin and coarse hair. He lifts his fingers to skim his knuckles along his length, and holds back a shiver. Lan Wangji is hard, and hot, and smooth as silk. And big. Really big.

Wei Wuxian's mouth waters, and that is...a new response to this type of information. He files it away to think about never again.

Lan Wangji can only breathe in short, shallow pants. The light touch is driving him to distraction, too much and not nearly enough. His hips jerk unconsciously. His focus, his restraint, is beginning to drift out of his grasp.

Wei Wuxian wraps his hand around him loosely, and strokes him once from root to tip.

A long breath shudders out of him along with a small, pained sound he does not mean to make. He shuts his eyes tight, but then Wei Wuxian lets go. Lan Wangji makes another sound. Quieter, yet more embarrassing.

"Not enough room," Wei Wuxian says, his hand flat on Lan Wangji's stomach, between his hips.

Lan Wangji does not understand how a touch that was so overwhelming a moment ago could be so grounding now. He is able to fill his lungs easier, for a moment, even though he aches for the touch to return.

"These—can I—” Wei Wuxian tugs at his trousers.

Lan Wangji nods without looking, without thinking. He does not care. Not now.

Wei Wuxian shoves them down. Lan Wangji knows he is shifting, straining for him, but cannot do anything to stop. He is bare and pleading, and he finds he cannot mind at all.

Wei Wuxian knows he shouldn't stare, but it really is impossible not to. Lan Wangji's cock is huge, beautiful, and dark with need. It looks almost painful, honestly, and Wei Wuxian very purposely does not think about how that might be particularly turning him on. Instead he does what he's here to do. He helps.

He touches him gently at first, then more firmly, each stroke coaxing another pulse of precome from his tip. Wei Wuxian didn't even know you could get this wet. But then, he hasn't really taken stock of the state of his own trousers. All of this is very new. He's honestly happy to be surprised.

Lan Wangji is shifting under his hand, breath erratic and noisy, his face contracted in an ecstatic, agonized expression. It's so beautiful Wei Wuxian wishes he could paint it. Wishes he could paint it across the backs of his own eyes and look at it forever.

"Come on, Lan Zhan," he hears himself saying. His voice sounds like a stranger's. "That's good, just let go."

Lan Wangji groans. It's low, and quiet, but it makes Wei Wuxian's cock twitch so hard he gasps.

"Come on," he breathes. "That's right."

Lan Wangji tosses his head to the side and gasps, then visibly bites back another noise. Wei Wuxian tightens his grip and focuses on twisting his hand at the right time, adding and releasing pressure in the right places.

Lan Wangji cuts off a louder sound, sweat breaking out across his skin.

"Wei Ying," he murmurs then, as if dreaming.

Wei Wuxian knows he will be hearing it in his own dreams for the rest of his life.

With one more aborted cry, Lan Wangji's perfectly muscled stomach tenses up in a shallow crescent, and he comes. Head thrown back, throat working with the ragged sounds forced through it. He comes, and comes. Wei Wuxian has never seen this much come in his life. He strokes him, and pulls him through it for what seems like forever. Finally, he quiets, and the ribbons of white shorten and then cease entirely.

Lan Wangji's breaths come hitched and wet, almost like little sobs. Wei Wuxian stares. His mind is entirely, screamingly blank.

At length, Lan Wangji's eyes blink open and look at him with bleary shock. He looks drunk. He looks fucked out. He looks incredible. His eyes are big and damp, his mouth full and red and open. Wei Wuxian wants to—but no. He can't, because—but then Lan Wangji's gaze cuts down to Wei Wuxian's lips, and—

Wei Wuxian leans down and crashes their mouths together. No finesse, no care, no gentleness. He just needs to taste him, to feel him.

Lan Wangji makes a soft, wanting sound and kisses back, sluggish but no less enthusiastic for it. He grabs him with both hands and holds on tight. Wei Wuxian licks into his mouth, hot and soft and insistent, and Lan Wangji hears himself make another awful sound. He tries to keep up, wants distantly to be good at this, feels as if maybe, somehow, if he were, he might be allowed to have it again.

This need collides with the more present one to feel the give of Wei Wuxian's lower lip between his teeth.

Wei Wuxian is the one to make a sound now, sudden and cut-off but needful nonetheless. His fingers dig into Lan Wangji's waist, slippery with come. This combination reawakens Lan Wangji's briefly calmed desire. Now that the dam has burst, he finds himself wanting all sorts of filthy things, most urgently for Wei Wuxian's spend to mix with his own on his skin.

He tries to focus on the kiss. Tries to make Wei Wuxian make that sound again.

Wei Wuxian is losing the struggle not to rut against Lan Wangji's hip. This all started because he was already going out of his mind, and now that the barrier between them has crumbled, what he has wanted hopelessly and what he needs immediately have become the same thing.

"Lan Zhan," he pants against his open mouth, "I...I need. Can I—"

Lan Wangji's fingers dig into his arms. "Yes." His voice is low and shredded. It's so hot Wei Wuxian is surprised he doesn't just come from the sound. "Please."

"Oh, fuck," Wei Wuxian mumbles, and fumbles his trousers down.

He gets a hand around himself—the same hand, still wet, and fuck, oh fuck—but Lan Wangji puts an arm around him and pulls him close, against his side. He sees, out of the corner of his eye, that Lan Wangji is—he's still—

They lock eyes. Wei Wuxian swallows hard. "Do you...do you still need..."

Lan Wangji blinks rapidly, then nods mutely.

He does not actually know. He has no idea what he needs, other than to see what Wei Wuxian might do next.

What he does is push himself up, thighs astride Lan Wangji's hips.

Lan Wangji is not prepared for it. All his breath leaves him once more.

"Is this—too much?" Wei Wuxian asks, leaning over him, breathing hard, pink with his own flush.

Lan Wangji tries not to do anything too extreme, like gripping Wei Wuxian's bare, muscled thighs with both hands.

"It is not," he manages roughly.

Wei Wuxian grinds down against him, and his curse is drowned out by Lan Wangji's sudden, anguished oh.

"Is it—Lan Zhan—is it—"

Lan Wangji's hands are fisted tightly in the bedding, his eyes squeezed shut and turned away. The pale column of his throat is exposed, tense and lovely.

"Please," he breathes.

"Oh, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian chides softly, an odd pang in his chest. "It's alright."

He brushes damp hair from Lan Wangji's face, careful not to touch his ribbon. He leans down close and kisses the corner of his mouth. He's so perfect. Wei Wuxian hates to see him seem so conflicted about something so good.

"You can let go," he says again. He doesn't know how to make him understand. "With me, you can, if you want to. I want you to. I really...if you need—whatever you want. I'm here."

As he speaks, he can't seem to stop his hips from moving, little catches of almost-friction between their cocks making Lan Wangji's breath hitch beneath him.

He doesn't know what he's doing. He could be ruining everything. But he can't stop. He's never been this close to anyone, or wanted anyone this much. And it's not anyone, it's Lan Zhan. He wants him. He wants to make him feel good. He wants to be the person to do that. Preferably forever, but he'll take just this for as long as he can have it.

He kisses Lan Wangji's jaw, his perfect throat.

"Is this good? Do you want it?" He has to ask.

"Yes."

Breathless, the both of them undone. He kisses farther down.

"Do you...do you want to touch me too?" He tries not to sound too hopeful.

A pause, then the hoarse reply. "Yes."

"Then touch me."

Another pause. Hesitant fingertips at his knee, sliding upward. The barest touch of a palm on his thigh. He places his own hand over it and presses it down.

"Hold on," he says.

Then he thrusts against him and bites down gently at the same time.

Lan Wangji grips him hard and gasps, chest heaving against Wei Wuxian's.

"Yeah," Wei Wuxian goads, thrusting again. It feels so good. It feels better than anything he's imagined. "Yeah, like this, Lan Zhan, oh fuck."

It's incredible, and yet he needs more. He does his best to line them up and take them both in hand, but his hand is only so big, and between the two of them he's pleased to say neither of them would be considered small. He tries though, and it's almost perfect. Lan Wangji beneath him, writhing and panting, his helpless little noises and upward thrusts. The slick drag between them as he holds them together. He knows he's not going to last, but he almost doesn't care. The best part is watching him.

Lan Wangji is coming apart. He is reduced to sensation, overcome entirely by the sharpness, the omnipresence of pleasure. The only thing anchoring him to the world is Wei Wuxian's soft voice in his ear, Wei Wuxian's hands on his body. He has no idea if a second release is possible, but for now he is blissfully, mindlessly tossed in the ceaseless current.

He is aware of Wei Wuxian taking his hand and moving it, and then the hot, slick mess of them pressed together in his hand.

"Ah," Wei Wuxian pants against him. "That's—good. Together, like this—oh, fuck, Lan Zhan, your hand is—I—"

He groans right under Lan Wangji's ear, and it's so obscene, so honest, that Lan Wangji's climax drags him under with no warning. It feels like every vein, every nerve bursting, filling his limbs, his mind, his mouth with something bittersweet. Like something breaking in him beyond repair.

Lan Wangji moans, long and low and pleading, as he comes. The sound, the sight, the tightening of his hand around them, are all too much. It sends Wei Wuxian over the edge after him, jolting and groaning. He looks down to watch, awed where he might've thought he should be disgusted. In the height of it, he wants to smear his hands through their spend on Lan Wangji's perfect skin, to paint their names in it.

He doesn't do that. This has already pushed through too many boundaries. He collapses into the mess instead, an unsubtle compromise, and then finds himself too weak to move.

When the euphoria fades, it hits him. What they've just done. What he's done, really. Mad with want and lacking any impulse control whatsoever, he may have just done what demonic cultivation and 16 years of absence couldn't manage. He may have just driven Lan Wangji out of his life for good. He...he thinks, probably, the effect won't be quite that drastic. But he's suddenly afraid it could be.

Lan Wangji comes back to himself warm and pleasantly weighed down. Slowly, as his breathing evens out, the comfort bleeds out of him leaving only exhaustion and nerves.

He is not sure how much he has given away, in this. How much of what he has just done can be excused. He tries to still the tremors that are still pulsing through his muscles. Tries to regain his footing, to think. It is nearly impossible with Wei Wuxian still draped over him, boneless and pliant. But he would not trade it away, not a single moment of it.

Eventually, unfortunately, Wei Wuxian lifts up and off. Lan Wangji feels a moment of stark, certain grief, and turns away from him.

"We should clean up," Wei Wuxian says quietly.

Lan Wangji nods. They should. There is...much to clean.

A hand grasps his arm, sudden and solid.

"Lan Zhan, we're okay, right? I didn't. I didn't...this wasn't wrong."

Lan Wangji shakes his head. It was far from wrong.

"Okay...okay. Then, are you okay?"

Lan Wangji does not want to lie. It is a difficult question. It is possible he is alright. He simply does not know.

"Did you know?" Lan Wangji asks suddenly, without premeditation of any sort. 

He wishes he could shove the words back into his mouth. But he cannot help but wonder. How much of this was...a knowing kindness? How much of this was pity, born of his own horribly obvious desires?

"Know what?"

Lan Wangji takes a breath. As much as he wishes he could, he does not think he could go back. Back to before he had this, knew this, felt this.

"That I wanted you."

There is a stunned silence. The hand on his arm tightens painfully.

"No," Wei Wuxian says. "You—how long?"

Lan Wangji shakes his head. That, he is not sure he can make himself say.

"Did...did you know?"

"Know?" Lan Wangji repeats, confused. Of course he knew his own desires, as unfortunate as they were.

"That I wanted you."

The silence then is suspended. The moment before a fall. Lan Wangji turns.

"You what?"

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. He really is an unparalleled mess. Lan Wangji aches with how much he loves him.

"Lan Zhan," he says, covering sheepishness with a reprimanding tone. "You didn't really think you were the only one, after that?"

Lan Wangji feels as if he is making rather a habit of complete and utter breathlessness. He stares at him, at the earnestly hopeful look in Wei Wuxian's eyes.

"I did not know."

"Well," Wei Wuxian says. "You do now. In case...in case that matters."

Lan Wangji does not know what is happening inside him, but it is riotous. He shoves it down, out of the way. This is something, but it is not...he cannot. He has lied by omission, he feels, too much now. He cannot continue.

"Then you should know," he says, measured as he can, "that what I feel is more than wanting." Wei Wuxian continues to stare at him. Lan Wangji has to look away. "In case that matters."

"It matters," Wei Wuxian says, a thin croak. "It—Lan Zhan, how much more, exactly, could you be, ah, specific? Because I don't want to say the wrong thing, but—"

Lan Wangji cannot bear to speak of it anymore. He unties his ribbon and lays it across Wei Wuxian's palm, at which point Wei Wuxian stops speaking and stares at it, instead of him, for a long moment.

"Lan Zhan..."

Lan Wangji's heart is heavy even as anxiety sparks through his overtired veins. But then, suddenly, he is horizontal again, and there is a riot of a different sort, of heat and limbs and lips, and he is being kissed all over his face.

"How long?" Wei Wuxian is saying again, between sweet pecks and lingering presses. "You wouldn't say. How long?"

"Wei Ying?"

Wei Wuxian can tell Lan Wangji hasn't yet caught up, and it's adorable and sad at the same time. He takes pity.

"I'll go first. I think I've probably loved you since forever, but I didn't know until, well, until I thought I'd lost you, back then. How stupid is that? Now you. Tell me how stupid we both are, how long we could have been doing this."

Lan Wangji is staring at him with unadulterated awe. It's cute, but it also makes Wei Wuxian feel squirmy and uncomfortable. He kisses him again, deep and slow, a new way they haven't tried. It's extremely good.

He manages to tear himself away. "Tell me or I'll stop kissing you," he says. He doesn't even know if it's a good threat. He hopes it is. It'd get him to speak if their places were reversed.

"Always," Lan Wangji breathes, still awed, still wide-eyed and sweet. It gives Wei Wuxian pause.

Lan Wangji sees him looking back through his spotty memories, trying to fit this information into them. He feels a stab of regret that he never made it clear before now. He resolves to make it abundantly clear every moment from here on out. He surges up to kiss those memories away.

It takes a long, long time before they clean up and do anything else.

In the future, Lan Wangji still doesn't make a habit of engaging in self-pleasure. He doesn't have to. Except, of course, when Wei Wuxian realizes he's rather sad he missed out on watching.

~The End~

If you enjoyed this, you can keep up with new threads as they happen on my twitter. If you want to see me in Real Writing Mode, check out my works on ao3!

[dreamkidddream]

I really enjoyed your writing on the ADA members with a younger sibling like partner <33 I was wondering if you could write the same scenario but with Chuuya and Fyodor? Except the younger partner in question has a rough past and cheery/joking personality similar to Dazai(?) I'm super excited to see more of your writing!! c:

Hi anon! Thank you for the compliment and for reading (here’s the scenario for those that want to read it)! The only difference is that instead of this reader being pure, they’re going to be like a mini Dazai (or at least similar to him). One change that I did make was that Reader isn’t as suicidal as Dazai (ie. constantly trying to find a way to end their life), but Reader is ready to go whenever and wherever, whether it’s on their terms or not. Reader is gender neutral and hope you enjoy!

Also ayyyeeee my first time writing for Fyodor! Hope I did him justice cause his part took a while lol

TW: Mentions of suicide, dark moments (Reader is a bit sadistic, but nothing graphic is mentioned) small spoilers for Dark Era arc and Season 3

Acting as a Younger Sibling with a Rough Past and Personality Similar to Dazai with: Chuuya and Fyodor

Chuuya

Well he was extremely disturbed to say the least. Okay extremely may be over exaggerating, but the way you acted got underneath his skin bad

You reminded him too much of Dazai, minus the suicide attempts and the animosity towards him. Although that didn’t stop the morbid jokes from happening

“Hey Chu-Chu, what did the librarian say to the guy that wanted to check out a book on how to commit suicide?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!-“

“Go away, you’re not going to bring it back. HA! A knee slapper, am I right?”

He wondered if Dazai got to you first like he did Akutagawa, and if he did, that was just another reason to strangle him

You were his partner, and you were young. So seeing the way you interacted with everyone and everything with such a pessimistic attitude while still being cheery was alarming

Not to mention how easy it is for you to just readily accept death at every turn. You’re the literal embodiment of “guess I’ll die” and it drives Chuuya up the wall every time

He remembers the one time an enemy held you hostage how you were so cheerful to finally be rid of this joke you called a life, and that you told the guy who was holding a gun to your head to “put it between the eyes, it looks 10x better that way.” And “don’t be afraid to blow my brains out either! But you do you, but I think it’s a rather stylistic choice if I do say so myself.”

The man thought you were trying to distract him at first, but when he figured out that you were serious he honestly got so nervous he was ready to just let you go and suggest therapy lmao

After he handled the situation, he took you directly under his wing. Sure, you were already his partner, but he was really going to look out for you including outside of work. If it meant that he had to “babysit” you, then oh well

Plus he didn’t want to face Mori if he just let you die while under his care

You realized what he was trying to do when you two would go off to “collect information” and would be doing the complete opposite. “Hey, I’m kinda hungry, let’s take a break and grab a bite to eat.”

“I thought we had to get this info back to Mori ASAP. Not that I care if he’s mad, he’s been holding out on me and this is the perfect way to take revenge.”

“Holding out how?”

“I told him that since he’s a doctor he would be the perfect teacher to show me some new techniques.”

“...on?”

“Torturing, duh! My methods are getting kinda stale, and I do want to perfect my craft after all. I want to be good at something before I kick the bucket, Chu.”

Poor man is honestly in so much distress because of you please help him

And the way you interacted with the other members was both entertaining and horrifying to watch at times. Majority of the time, you were this happy go lucky kid with a dark sense of humor (you still made people smile, although sometimes it was tense or apprehensive, but whatever a smile is still a smile). But when you were having a bad day or a mission was going wrong, everyone knew to steer clear of you.

A new recruit tried to cheer you up one day, telling you that “it could always be worse”. You then got pulled into the office with a very angry Chuuya and a mildly disappointed Mori.

Chuuya finally had enough after months of this occurred. It was like a never ending cycle: except your behavior was getting increasingly more reckless and dangerous. It was driving him crazy trying to figure out why you were this way and if it was any way to snap you out of it

He wasn’t a stranger to death, he’s seen it with his own two eyes, end even killed people with his bare hands. But the huge difference between you two is that he didn’t particularly enjoy killing, if it had to be done then he had no problems doing so; it comes with the job y’know? But with you, you took actual pleasure in killing. It filled you with a sick sense of glee, and it even made his stomach turn

The bond between you two grew from just a typical work relationship (as far as working in the mafia goes). He knew that from underneath your rather concerning persona, you were just troubled. Someone or something made you this way, and while he had his own troubles growing up, he was able to deal with it and overcome his issues. It just seemed like you just...gave in to yours. And it made him feel pity for you.

You didn’t mind Chuuya at all. You actually liked being his partner! He was pretty much the only person that you didn’t feel a need to harm or kill. And he was fun to be around, when he wasn’t being such a party pooper (I mean what’s the point of being in the mafia when you can’t purposely spill some blood every now and then for fun?). The only thing you didn’t like was how he would try and get you to talk about your past. You honestly didn’t see a point in it, it’s called the past for a reason, why didn’t he understand that?!

But no matter how many times you would shut down or try to change the subject, he would always try again, and again, and again. It was very annoying. And you didn’t like to talk about it. Why didn’t Chuuya understand that?!

Eventually, his pestering worked. One day after a rough mission when he had to patch you up, you opened up to him. You didn’t immediately tell him everything, but you gave him small insights to what happened, to what lead you to be this way

You could tell that he was grateful that he was finally getting somewhere with you. And you yourself was surprised that your dynamic didn’t change. He didn’t look at you with sympathy in his eyes, he didn’t baby you, he wasn’t disgusted by you, everything was normal. The only difference is that Chuuya told you that it was okay to talk to him, and that you shouldn’t be scared to approach him (psh you scared, yeah okay)

Chuuya felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders once you opened up. You were still a bit sadistic (but you did tone it back after the recruit incident, and after you saw how repulsed he looked, so you just did everything behind closed doors now) and had your cheery persona on, but it felt a little bit more real now. It felt genuine. It gave him a good feeling to see some spark in your eyes instead of the full he felt himself getting used to. And he would never say it to you, but it also gave him a warm feeling with him being your role model (you knew but didn’t want to burst his bubble yet)

Your change wasn’t very noticeable at first, but that’s okay. No one needed to know, it was fine with just you and Chuuya. You still felt the desire to just be done with life, but it wasn’t your focus whenever you were with him. You hadn’t made peace with your past yet, but you felt you could one day with him by your side. He was someone that you didn’t knew you needed (or wanted to admit to), but it worked out in the end. You had doubts that you could or would ever change, but if you did, growing to be someone like Chuuya would’nt be the worst possible outcome

Plus, whenever he did run into Dazai with his new sidekick, he is 10000% bragging about how much better and cooler you are, with him being the superior between them both. He can’t WAIT till you guys can whoop their ass

Fyodor

Well weren’t you such an interesting character

To see someone as young as you ready to just leave this world in an abrupt way was intriguing, and he realized that he could use this to his advantage. Maybe even give you something to gain in exchange

He found you hiding inside a disgusting abandoned building (a fitting place for a rat if he would say so himself), drenched in blood. Fyodor didn’t necessarily care why, but he was curious about one thing: why were you smiling? Your eyes were so lifeless, yet here you were smiling so bright, as if you weren’t covered in someone’s blood

Fyodor found himself smiling down at you. Did you think he was prey, that he was going to be your next target? He wanted you to try, he wanted to see what you were really capable of

“Tell me, what is going to be your next move? Do you wish to attack me?”

“If you do something that I don’t like, then yes, that’s the plan. Why are you here Mister? You wanna have some fun too?”, your smile turned into a smirk, twirling your very sharp knife in your hand. “You’re not even from here, so why are you trying to bother such an innocent kid like me?”

He matched your smirk, “You are from innocent, child, even a blind man can see that. To see just how full of sin you are. This wasn’t your first atrocity that you committed nor would it be your last. Which is a shame, it might be too late for me to cleanse you of your filth.”

Oh, he was going to be very amusing to mess with. But you weren’t stupid. Something wasn’t right with this man. No one would walk up to someone with copious amounts of blood on them, holding a weapon that caused said blood, while berating them about being “full of sin”. What was his ability? Did he have people with him? Was the building surrounded or booby trapped? These questions swirled around your head, all while he just kept smirking at you. He was pissing you off, who the hell did he think he was?

But you kept your anger at bay, plastering a cheerful smile on your face. “Sin? Cleanse me of my filth? I guess I do kinda stink but who exactly do you think you are, some type of God?”

“That’s exactly what I am. I’m here to free this world from this wretched curse that has been brought upon.”

...huh? Did-did he escape from the asylum or something? Did he seriously believe himself to be a God (not even a prophet but an actual God)? Seeing your confusion, he continued on, “The curse of ability users. They plague this Earth, and they need to be eliminated.”

“Why is that? What’s wrong with having abilities? Hellooooo, some people’s abilities are actually pretty cool! If you just have a terrible ability, it’s your problem, not the world-“

“Why not let me show you why it’s indeed a curse?”

“And how would you do that? You must be crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I may be dangerous but I’m not dumb!”

“You poor, misguided soul.”, he tutted at you. “Look at where you have ended up at. These people with these so called “cool abilities” have failed you, have they not? Yet you still idolize them, not believing that they are the reason for your misfortunes. If they were truly your idols, they wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourself, to live among the rats. They left you to rot, do you not see that?”

He was hitting too close to home, he was getting too personal, too close. He didn’t know you at all, you’re a complete stranger to him, but why did his words hold some truth to them?

“Come with me, and I will prove to you first hand why this has to be done.”, he was now physically close to you, staring you deep into your eyes. “It would be such a waste for you to die without knowing the truth, wouldn’t you agree?”

You didn’t have much, he wasn’t wrong. But if he could take you somewhere with real food and not scraps you had to fight to find, and to have real shelter, then fine. You agreed. And if you felt that something was up, you’ll just kill him, run away, or both

After he took you away, he kept to his word. It seemed like he was really was telling the truth, you getting first-hand experience like he promised. It was scary that he was right, but you were also indebted to him. He not only allowed you to live in luxury (at least it was luxury to you considering what you had before), but he opened your eyes to what the true problem is. He gave your life a new purpose. If you two were able to successfully complete his goal, then your problems would be gone forever right? You would finally be able to feel a sense of peace, and you can’t wait till that could happen

You and Fyodor, after he opened your eyes, bonded easier than in the beginning. You were smart enough to not fully trust him after leaving with him, but after just a couple of pulled strings to cause certain things to happen, you slowly melted and molded into the way that he planned. You would be an excellent pawn in his grand plan, and you would do well in keeping him entertained at the same time

You were a joyful child, even when carrying out his dirty work, you did so gleefully. After joining the Rats in the House of the Dead, you tried to spread that joy among the other members. They didn’t find it very amusing, but you didn’t care and neither did Fyodor. You were far too important to let go of now

You were always by him, it seemed. Always in the same space, whether he was planning his next move, and playing the cello, you were always there with this look of awe directed at him. Every time he would catch you staring, he would simply chuckle and softly reprimand you about, “how rude it is to stare, but you simply can’t help it.”

He even taught you how to play the cello!

You sounded terrible but practice makes perfect

As time went on and the end goal seeming to be closing in, he came to see you as more than just an expendable tool. He found out about your past, but simply proved to you once again why you two had to make sure the curse was ridden as soon as possible. No one wanted a repeat of what happened to you to happen to anyone else, so the mission had to be success. Failure was not an option

Fyodor didn’t see himself as a cruel man towards you. He just didn’t mince his words and he made sure that you were dealing with the truth, and not some lie that was attempted to be twisted as reality. If anything, that was the way that he showed that he held some compassion for you, he wasn’t willing to let you be lead astray from the truth again, not while he was here. You had somehow wiggled your way into his mind, where he had been accepting of your close bond, and he took that into consideration

Once his goal is achieved and he has truly made his place known as a God, he’ll make sure that you gain your rightful place among him as well. You were worthy in Fyodor’s eyes, and as long as nothing came in between your bond and the end goal, then everything will work out. He will make sure of that.

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter one: fan mail

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

***************************

You stare at the words for a moment before folding the paper in half and slipping it back into the envelope you pulled it from.  

Honestly?  

It’s not the first time you’ve gotten a threat. It happens from time to time in this line of work.

But this note plucks a chord of anxiety inside of you. Must be the eleven missed calls you suspect go hand-in-hand with your little love letter. Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for a half-hour now.

“Are you okay?”

Hyejin’s voice filters through your thoughts. She’s taken stock of the strange look that crosses your face in the split-second before you school your features back into a mask of calm.

She’s observant like that.

“Oh yeah, it’s nothing,” you say, shaking your head.  “Just some fan mail.”  

Your phone buzzes against the papers on your desk -- again -- and Hyejin raises an eyebrow.

Make that twelve.

“Tell you what,” she says, standing to stretch her legs. “I’m ready to go blind from reading these files and I could use an Americano.  You want one?”

“Actually yes,” you exhale.  “That’s exactly what I need. You’re a lifesaver.”

She gives you one last are you sure you don’t need to tell me anything? look before opening the door to your office.  You reassure her with a soft smile but the second the door to your office closes, you blow out one long, heavy breath and reach for your phone.

you: what the hell? [ 3:15 PM ]

namjoon: this can’t wait [ 3:15 PM ]

you: clearly [ 3:16 PM ]

namjoon: come in ASAP [ 3:16 PM ]

You groan.

Namjoon knows you avoid that place at all costs.

It’s not a good look for you to be seen there -- and so as a rule -- you’re not.  Your brother is usually understanding about your stance on the matter. But it’s not like him to push so there’s probably a damned good reason why he’s summoning you to his office like some wayward employee.

You glance back at the stack of files on your desk, riddled with notes and highlights.  Even after a morning spent tag-teaming with Hyejin, there’s still a shitload of work to be done. But then you look back at that envelope sitting on your desk and pick up your phone again.

you: give me thirty minutes [ 3:19 PM ]

namjoon: okay [ 3:19 PM ]

Paperwork is going to have to wait.

*****************************

You’re not a moron.  

You know what people say about your family, what they say about you.

You know what they whisper when you show up to charity galas and fundraising dinners. You know what they murmur the second their false smiles fall and you turn your back. They say that the money that paid for your prep schools and top-notch legal education is blood money; paid for by one of Seoul’s oldest and most powerful crime networks.  They say that you took a job prosecuting crime to assuage for your family’s sins.

They’re not wrong.

Your father -- your cruel, unsophisticated father -- shelled out top dollar to put you in fancy schools and fancy clothes and fancy riding lessons.  He threw elaborate birthday parties where he showered you with extravagant gifts in front of guests who were only there to celebrate because they feared turning down the invitation.

So others saw your material good fortune and mistook you for a pampered mafia princess. None of them had to come home every day to the stench of death and destruction. None of them had to endure the gossip and the looks and the cold shoulders.

That was a burden you shared with only one other person.

You and Namjoon huddled together during your lavish and turbulent childhood, leaning on one another for strength because no one else understood. He was the only safe harbor you had in the storm you both lived every day.

And then you left.

You walked away from your father and the Gajog and crossed the country to study law.  Far from the vicious gossip and prying eyes and violent drama that always awaited you in Seoul.  You walked away and decided that you weren’t going to live that life anymore.  

But you also walked away from Namjoon.

Now it’s a cold comfort, seeing your brother seated so naturally at the throne of power your father vacated when he died.  The old-school brute-force organization your father ran for decades is a thing of the past.  In its place, a well-oiled, highly-organized machine -- making far more money and far fewer mistakes.  

Namjoon single-handedly pulled the crime syndicate into a new era, dusted it off and dressed it up.  He legitimized parts of the business, took up residence in one of the city’s most expensive buildings, and basically dared law enforcement to come get him.

They still haven’t.

And there isn’t a day that Namjoon doesn’t cross your mind.  

There isn’t a day that you don’t pray that the menace that existed inside your father never takes root inside of your brother.  You pray that he can shoulder the burden of his responsibilities without rotting from the inside out.  

If anyone can, you tell yourself, it’s him.

**********************

Namjoon cuts an imposing figure behind his grandiose wooden desk.

He’s seated when his assistant first opens the door to his secure private office, but as soon as you follow her inside he makes to stand.

He looks so tall now, you think -- as though it’s been years since you’ve seen him.  

In reality, it’s only been a few months since your last brief encounter, but it’s still hard sometimes to recognize the handsome, polished man in front of you as the kid you grew up with. You’re hit with a pang of regret that it’s been so long since you’ve seen one another face-to-face.

Two men stand guard on either side of Namjoon’s desk, which doesn’t surprise you. Your brother is always surrounded by guards these days.  

The only one you recognize is Min Yoongi, who gives a slight bow in your direction as you cross the broad expanse of the office.  You’re certain you’ve never seen the second man, who stands eerily still on your brother’s other side.  You can feel the stranger’s stare from a distance and avert your eyes.

You bow to Namjoon and take a seat in the plush chair facing his desk.  A fond look passes over his features but when he opens his mouth to speak his tone is businesslike, serious.

“I know you don’t like coming in here,” he begins carefully, “and so I have to apologize for asking you to make an exception.  I hope you understand this can’t be helped.”

“Yes, of course,” you say softly. “Sorry it took me a while.  I’m buried with a new case.”

Namjoon nods.

“That case is the reason why we’ve run into a bit of trouble in the past few days,” he admits. “Some of our friends across town are pretty upset about it.  Apparently very agitated and hoping to leverage the fact that you’ve been assigned to this case to their advantage.”

“I see,” you murmur.

You knew the men you’d been assigned to build a weapons trafficking case against were part of a rival organization -- but on paper they were low-level foot soldiers, considered expendable in a business like theirs.  Why the Ssijog were so worried about losing a couple of nobodies from their ranks was a bit puzzling.

“I guess that explains this,” you say, reaching into your bag for the letter delivered to your office.  

You hand it to Namjoon and he reads the words with a tight expression before turning it over to the man you don’t recognize.  It’s a relief when the stranger’s focus moves away from you and onto that paper. You take the opportunity to get a closer look at him.

The first word that comes to mind is sharp.

Everything about the man is sharp -- from his meticulously tailored suit to his severe jawline to the angles of his body.  Intense dark eyes set in honey gold skin and black hair carefully styled off of his face. You’re caught staring when his eyes snap up from the paper and back to you.

You clear your throat, gaze darting back to your brother.

“They want you to make this go away.”

You sigh.

“I can’t do that. I don’t have that kind of authority. And besides, it would attract all the wrong kinds of attention to me and -- “ you pause, choose your next words carefully, “ -- to my ties to this organization.”

Namjoon concedes your point with a slow bob of his head.

“Right.  So we have a problem,” he admits.  “Because the message we’re getting is that they’re willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.  And it’s been made quite clear to me that hurting you is not off the table.”

You take in a deep breath.

“This is Jung Hoseok,” Namjoon says after a short silence, motioning to the stranger at his side. You straighten when the man acknowledges you with a barely-there bow.  

“I’ve assigned him to your detail.”

“Detail,” you repeat slowly.  “Like a bodyguard.”

“Exactly like that.”

“Namjoon, I -- “ you look away from the man to turn your attention back to your brother,  “-- I can’t have one of your guys following me around.  People are going to talk.”

“Amsaja,” he sighs, “They talk anyway.”

You bristle at his use of your childhood nickname.  

You know it’s meant as an endearment but it still feels infantilizing in front of his men -- one of whom hasn’t seen you in years, one of whom knows nothing about you at all.  You’re a grown woman, a successful prosecutor, and more than just Kim Namjoon’s little sister.

“Joon -- “

There is annoyance behind the way you fire off his name and one of your brother’s eyebrows lifts in warning.  A silent reminder that in this room, in this building, in this realm, he is the absolute authority.  You swallow back the argument on the tip of your tongue.

“Namjoon,” you start again, this time with a restrained calm.  “Please. Let’s have this conversation in private.”

He drums his fingers across the surface of his wooden desk before nodding his agreement and raising a hand to motion his guards out the door.  You wait until both men are gone and the heavy door to Namjoon’s office clicks shut to speak again.

“You’re putting me in a terrible position here,” you exhale. “I’ve worked so hard to -- distance myself.  I can’t walk around with a reminder of my family history at my heels.”

Your brother stands from his seat and walks to an ornate sideboard, pours liquor from a heavy crystal decanter into a highball glass.  He takes a slow drink before speaking.

“You are worried about your image; I’m worried about your safety.  Those two concerns are not equal. Not to me.”

Your face heats at the kernel of truth in your brother’s assessment.  

Certainly, it’s about how it looks, but it’s so much more than that. It’s about the life you’ve worked so hard to build away from the drama surrounding your family name.  It’s about a future that depends on the burial of your past.

Namjoon leans against his heavy wooden desk, arms crossed.

“You should know me by now,” he continues.  “If I thought these were empty words, I wouldn’t have bothered you with them.”

“I know that,” you admit quietly.  Doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow, though.

“Hoseok is under orders to stay with you at all times. Obviously, he won’t be physically at your side while you’re working, but he will be close by.  And he will be staying at your apartment for the time being.”

You blink.  “In my apartment?”

A flash of irritation crosses your brother’s face. “Yes, in your apartment.  I’m privy to information you don’t have.”  He takes a long drink from the highball glass.  “It’s necessary until we have this situation under control.”

“I don’t know this man,” you argue, and that eyebrow lifts again at the rising heat in your tone. “Can’t you give me Yoongi or Seokjin or someone else?”

“No.”

“Thanks for considering that, Joon.”

You don’t even bother to hide your displeasure now, climbing out of the plush chair and walking over to the massive window that makes up the back wall of your brother’s office. You look down at the street. From this height, the cars below look like toys and the people look like ants.  

Namjoon joins you in front of the window, drink in hand.

“I don’t want to fight with you, I want to protect you. Jung Hoseok has worked for me three years now and he spent many more years serving in the military.  He is the man I want for this assignment and I need you to trust me on that, too.”

You say nothing, staring out the window and feeling suddenly exhausted.  You hate everything about today -- the letter, the case, this arrangement you now have to endure.  You hate that this is the first real conversation you’ve had with your brother in months and you’re locking horns.  

“Okay,” you whisper after a while, reluctant to let the tension escalate. Your brother has asked so little of you since you severed ties with the Gajog -- and effectively, with him.  You swallow past the taste of guilt when you turn to look him in the eye.

“I’ll play ball, Jaegyueo.”

Your brother seems to soften when you use his childhood nickname in return, shoulders relaxing as he takes another sip from the highball and looks out over the city he basically runs.  

“Thank you, Amsaja.”

*************************

Hoseok

“Has she seen this?”

Hoseok stares down at the glossy photograph in his hands.  

There’s little to be gleaned from the details in the picture.  There are no shadows, no reflections, no personal items to give away any clues as to who took it or when.

You are asleep, one bare shoulder peeking out from underneath your plush bedding -- your hair spilling out onto your pillow. You appear blissfully unaware of the danger standing just a few feet away.

“Hell no,” Namjoon exhales.  “And I would like to keep it that way. She’d probably never sleep again if she saw that shit.”

Hoseok hands the photograph back.

“I need the two of you to figure out who got into her apartment.  And then I need you to bring him here.”

Namjoon doesn’t finish that train of thought -- he doesn’t have to.  Hoseok and Yoongi hear clearly everything he hasn’t said.  

“We’ll find him,” Yoongi vows, and Hoseok nods his agreement.  “It’s gonna be handled.”

Namjoon scrubs a hand down his jaw, eyes still glued to the picture on his desk.

He’s an uncharacteristically even-tempered boss, particularly in this line of work.  Seeing him this unnerved is unnerving to Hoseok, who’s seen him handle countless shitty situations with an unnatural calm.

“She’s my sister,” Namjoon says quietly.  “I don’t expect any of you to understand our dynamic, but I need you to know that her safety is my top priority.”

“Understood,” Hoseok murmurs and in that moment, the heavy door to the office opens wide. Namjoon shoves the photograph into his desk drawer.  

Hoseok studies you as you trail Namjoon’s assistant across the length of this massive office.

The first word that comes to mind is small.

You’re much smaller than Hoseok imagined you’d be, basing that assumption almost entirely on Namjoon’s tall and solid frame.  Physically, you are nearly the opposite of your brother, delicate features set in smooth skin, any appearance of height owed directly to the high-heeled shoes you’ve carefully matched to your business suit.  

Hoseok notes that you have the same stubborn set to your jaw, though -- a defense mechanism that slips momentarily when you lock eyes with your brother.  He catches the brief flash of sadness in your face before you manage it away.

In the years he’s been with the Gajog, he’s only heard your name a handful of times --  almost always followed by hushed exchanges and pained expressions.  Never once has anyone breathed your name in front of Namjoon, though.  That appears to be an invisible line everyone understands not to cross.

But now you’re here, in the flesh. One piece of the puzzle revealed.

Hoseok watches your exchange with Namjoon with curiosity. It’s not the easy back-and-forth one would expect to see between a pair of siblings -- but there is an underlying affection between the two of you. A quiet respect.

Amsaja, Namjoon had called you.  Lioness.

Hoseok doesn’t see a lioness when he looks at you, though.  

He sees a rich girl desperate to prove how much better she is than her own flesh and blood.  He sees a social climber so eager to make a name for herself in this city that she walked away from her own brother to make it happen.  

This is the moment that Hoseok decides that you’re not the kind of person he could ever respect.

Because unlike you, he would never put ambition above loyalty.

Never.

**********************

tag list:

@yoongbug @brilliantlybasicb @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain​@sunkissed75 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale​

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), stupid people in love

a/n: I love one(1) libra man!! I love Atsumu’s character and the way he’s developed in hq and I think that this is a very probable way in which he finds love !! thank you all so much for loving the first installment so much <3 I-I went a little overboard with this one but ,, xoxo Chlo

━Miya Atsumu

Let’s start with a little background; I think we can all agree Atsumu is and always has been popular with the ladies

…But that doesn’t necessarily mean the ladies are popular with him LMAO

He’s truly the emotionally unavailable heartbreaker and he built himself quite a reputation without even knowing it

This dude doesn’t even really fuck around with girls, maybe a few meaningless flings his senior year but besides that, he only has eyes for one lady and her name begins with the letter V and ends with ball

LET’S GO

So you’ve known Atsumu for years unfortunately,,, and you surely know about how he treats the girls that approach him with confessions and boxes of chocolates

You don’t approve of it at all, but your family is practically family with the Miya’s and you’ve literally spent every major holiday with them since you can remember

You: Atsumu would it kill you to show some respect towards these women

Atsumu: If she breathes, she’s a thot

….smh… a fucking mess someone please put him in his place

However your mom was always happy that you could be around the twins since you were an only child, and she loved the idea of you having two brothers who would protect you from the evils of college men little did she know,,

You hate to admit it and we hate to see it, but you started to develop a crush on him your freshman year of high school.. you suppose it was because you spent so much time with him and you saw parts of him that a lot of people didn’t get to see I mean you also saw him with his jersey on and off pretty often how could you resist

For example, every Halloween you had a sleep-over tradition where you watched horror films after trick-or-treating and Atsumu was scared SHITLESS every year, I’m talking ripping your favorite blanket off you and burying his face in it to block out the movie, he would threaten you and Osamu about telling people at school about it

Him, a 17 year old teen standing in your doorway at 3:40 am: c-can I sleep on yer floor I LOVE HIM SKAKAKAJSW

You, filming him and sending it to Suna on snap: sure Atsumu <3

You found yourself entranced when he automatically gave you his school cardigan on the walks home from school when it was cold or raining, and completely enraptured by his cute little accent

Atsumu: did ya know yer a fuckin’ idiot bimbo stupid butt crack for not bringin’ yer jacket

Atsumu: yer lucky I’m a gentleman

You: ...

Osamu: god…..

It was naïve to think he would ever reciprocate feelings especially with his entire life being his volleyball career, and you convinced yourself it was a tiny high school crush and eventually you managed to repress it

Too much was on the line; you didn’t want to make both of your families awkward, and you needed to focus on your studies as one of the top students at Inarizaki yes ma’am

Besides you loved him like family right ???

RIGHT ???

The twins are a year older than you, and Atsumu had just signed to play professionally for MSBY!!

You at his official signing: wow, looks like you don’t have to resort to living on the streets after all

Him: yeah ❤️

You kind of forgot about how you felt about him since you weren’t seeing either of the twins consistently anymore with how busy both of you were; you stayed in contact, but nothing really serious

It was weird because you were still in high school while the boys were experiencing college and doing their own thing… you drifted apart honestly and you felt a bit awkward talking to them sometimes, you felt like you were bothering them Atsumu would probably tease you and say that you were

Another year passed and you were heading to college! You are living your best life, meeting new people, and then you got the text from your mom that you were doing Thanksgiving with the Miya’s,, you weren’t sure if that meant you would be seeing both twins but something about the possibility of seeing Atsumu again made something stir in your chest

Fall break hit and you found out both the twins and you were back at home since Atsumu also had a rare break from training and his regular professional season

You were helping Osamu out at his shop, since it was his first time dealing with the overflow of Thanksgiving season as a new business owner

You’re helping close the shop, when you hear the door jingle; you turn to say a polite “sorry we’re closed for the day,” but you’re met with what seems like a new and improved and muscular Atsumu OH NO

He looks amazing and so much older than you remember??? And he’s thinking the same thing about you!!! Like wow she’s changed a lot since she started college, I’ve missed a lot apparently ??

You immediately fall into his arms, inhaling his familiar scent, Osamu rolling his eyes at the two of you and telling you to get lost before he yaks

You leave the shop with Atsumu, inviting him to your house; as you enter, you catch your mom leaving to pick up some last-minute groceries for the Thanksgiving meal

She’s acts way happier to see Atsumu than she acted when you came home LMAO later she doesn’t shut up about how handsome and manly he’s become, but you just pull him away to your room and lock your door behind you

He goes to sit on your flower-patterned comforter from your childhood, newly washed thanks to your mother

Atsumu: so…. what’s up with you..?

You can’t control the churning of your stomach all of a sudden; you can’t remember him ever looking at you this way, like he’s looking at a woman

The feelings come rushing back, and literally all you can think about is kissing him

You lean back on your dresser in front of the bed, and a wave of need to express yourself washes over you,

“Atsumu, I missed you.”

You don’t even know what’s happening until you’re trapped in between Atsumu and the door, his mouth gently pressed against yours, his warm hands caressing your hips

He asks if this is okay, and all you can do is moan back a yes in response

Let’s just say your mom might need to clean your comforter again lmaoo

It’s complicated and you’re both kinda confused after… like no one admitted that they had feelings for the other and its not like either of you can just disappear from the other’s life like a random hook-up

BUT BOTH OF YOU ARE TOO STUPID AND STUBBORN TO REALIZE YOU LIKE EACH OTHER AND WANT A RELATIONSHIP I-

Like he’s literally cuddling you and kissing you and asking you about college in your childhood bedroom naked what

And it ISN’T uncomfortable at all

It feels so right to be in his arms, and you’re in disbelief about what happened??? What even like how have you gone all this time without doing anything honestly

You suddenly hear your dad pull into the garage, and you’re both up and putting your clothes on as fast as possible

It’s embarrassing when you look back on it, how long the hook-ups went on, but this was a common occurrence whenever the two of you were home

It was basically like you were dating and doing long-distance without the label

IT WENT ON FOR ALMOST A YEAR 🤡

Osamu during next year’s Thanksgiving meal: I think we should go around the table and say what we’re thankful for, I’ll go first. I’m thankful that two people at this table are getting laid despite the fact that I’m not 😊

Your parents:

Atsumu, in many ways, is oblivious to what his feelings mean after not really being in any real relationships and blocking out all the girls during high school,

He would find himself texting you after each of his matches, hoping you had watched him and his heart would flutter when you complimented him on his sets

Atsumu on the phone with you: yeah I’m just chillin’ with the boys rn 😏

Sakusa: get the fuck off my bed and get off the phone with your girlfriend so I can sleep

Atsumu: she’s not my girlfr-

Sakusa, talking loud enough for you to hear: I literally don’t care but don’t you have her picture saved as your lockscreen?

He tried to hook-up with someone when he was away playing a tournament in the summer, but it wasn’t the same and it was only good if he imagined it was you

He never did it again and before coming home for Christmas, he called Osamu to finally ask him what to do

Osamu: about time you meathead

Osamu literally spells it out to this man; he has been and is in love with you and he needs to do something about it asap before someone else snatched you away

Atsumu: why didn’t ya just say somethin’ ? Ya know I’m not good at these typa things !

I can’t he’s something else

So it’s Christmas, and he asks if you would want to go see the town square’s Christmas lights with him

Of course you say yes, you’re just really excited to finally see him after so long !!

Atsumu with rosy cheeks ugh spare me

He picks you up and greets you with a kiss to your temple, and he has a little gift baggie with him; he hands it to you to open and you pull out his old school cardigan

“I-I thought maybe you would want it since ya always stole it from me in high school, and since I’m half-way ‘round the world most of the time”

It smells just like him, you thank him with a kiss to his cheek and you tuck it away in your bedroom before leaving hand-in hand to see the colorful lights dazzling in the night sky

You talked to Osamu about your relationship with his brother and you want Atsumu to make a move honestly; you want to be sure he wants this since you’ve literally liked him since high school

You’re not sure what you are expecting, but when Atsumu has you in his arms, your back against his chest and his chin on your shoulder as you watch the Christmas carolers, you don’t expect him to whisper into your ear,

“hey, will ya be my girl?”

You turn around to give him a surprised look, his hand bringing yours to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles this is his favorite place to kiss fight me

After getting over your dream-like shock, you say yes and pull him into a kiss

I’m crying he tells you afterwards that you were his girl since the first time he met you, we’ll let him have this one because did he really know until like a week ago? no

Whew, all of your friends and family let out a relieved sigh when they hear the news LMAO

Suna, hearing about Atsumu finally making it official: thank god I was about to start blackmailing him with those Halloween videos

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

A World-- Unsure

dabi / f.reader 

genre: real world to parallel world au? (is that an au? it’ll make sense dw), angst, pinning, fools to lovers? (or dabi is stubborn/scared as all get out)

warning(s): blood, violence/bar fight, descriptions of injuries, cursing (dabi and i both have a potty mouth oops) 

w.count: 9.4k 

synopsis: You were someone in the middle.  You had no mega praise for heros to speak of, but you also had no ill will towards villains either- you had seen both sides. After a few years running a hidden, underground medical base for villains who needed treatment beneath the bar that you ran and owned, you’ve met your fair share of villains.  It was odd to think of them as good people, since you depended on them a lot if you got yourself into a pinch.  In fact, a lot of your patients became bar regulars on the public downlow. It’s not a big shock that you end up meeting Dabi.  

a/n: teehee, first time writing for dabi! I’m pretty excited not gonna lie, since this idea was pretty interesting to think about.  this is the first part of A World -- a two part series! I’ll be working on the next part asap, so hopefully it won’t be a horribly long wait- but we’ll see how my time management is in the long run lol.  (also, the draft was like 8.6k, i dunno how i added a whole 800 more words)

-x-x-x-

You stood behind the bar, shining glasses as you set up the counter and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall just above the entrance of the small pub.  You sighed as you set the glass down before taking the rag you were using and throwing it over your shoulder.  It was quiet in the open room filled with circular tabs, rectangular booths and metal rimmed chairs- quiet except for the footsteps of employees prepping for opening. 

Your black jeans hung on your waist as your white button up was slightly wrinkled, the long sleeves rolled as best as possible up to your elbows.  Your hair up and out of the way so you wouldn’t be constantly fighting it when the rush started.  There was a small, pocket apron around your waist with a pocket for a receipt book, a pen, some napkins and pain medicine just in case another headache walked in the door tonight and a few other odds and ends. The only other thing on your person was the new pair of steel toed boots you had indulged yourself to.  

“Hey, Boss Lady,” one of your employees called. You looked around, seeing the one who called you peeking their head around from inside the rec room. The room itself was probably one of the most expensive rooms you’ve ever put together.  A pool table in the middle of the room, dart boards on either side of the room, a small little entertainment center, a sofa and another mini bar inside run by a trusted bargirl you hired when you opened your pub doors for the first time. 

“What is it?” 

“Is the rec room rented out for the night? I heard some of the others saying it was.”  

That was something else that was different about your little hole in the wall.  Since you weren’t all that popular or big enough for a special vip area or an area in general for occasions like birthdays or anniversaries, your patrons could call and make reservations and get the rec room rented out. However, you only let the room be rented on Fridays, Saturdays and Wednesdays.  The other days, it was open for anyone to come and go as they please so long as nothing is damaged. 

It was Friday night. You couldn’t think of anyone renting it out tonight, but there was a group coming in tomorrow so long as they don’t cancel on you. 

You shook your head. “No.  It’s tomorrow when it’s rented.  You’re clear to leave the dividing ropes put away.” 

“Right on,” they thumbs upped you before retreating back into the room to prep and clean before opening. 

7:45, a quarter ‘till eight- opening time.  You cupped one hand around your mouth. “Hurry up and get your final prepping all done.  Quarter ‘till!” Your employees all made some sort of response or sound back to you, signaling that they understood.  

Part of you always felt a little guilty each opening night since you knew it wasn’t just regular citizens or the occasional hero off duty who frequented your pub.  You knew of the bad people who walk in the doors, stay for a drink and leave without causing a ruckus.  You knew of them, because, unknown to your employees, you had a second job. 

A second job that had a lot to do with the large, concrete basement of your pub that you refused to tell them about.  It wouldn’t be a great business move if you just told people you let villains sneak into your pub to go into the basement where you had a large array of (stolen) medical equipment to treat their injuries. 

-x-x-x-

It was well into the midnight rush of the night when the door opened again.  The loud combination of everyone’s murmurs and the smell of every type of alcohol someone could name off filtered through the air and almost made you pull out your medicine. After three years running this place, one would think you’d become accustomed to the smells combined with the noise.  To no avail. 

You had stepped back away from the bar, your back close to the shelves behind you lined with bottles, cups, glasses, and a small old-style antenna radio that, despite being turned on, wasn’t heard over the ruckus. 

Heading to the opposite side of the bar after being paged by some random man for a neat glass of whiskey.  You snagged a glass, grabbing a bottle of the cheapest brand you could find- because this man’s lack of manners towards a lady, bargirl or not, didn’t impress you.  Pouring the liquor into the glass like it was second nature, you reached under the bar to scoop out a sphere of ice to drop into the glass.  

Sliding it over to the already tipsy looking man, you were called- more politely this time- from another patron for a bottle of beer.  Smiling at him and signaling to him that you heard him, you trotted over to the mini fridge under the bar and grabbed the brand he requested.  

As you carefully, and skillfully, popped the tab off with the bar’s edge, you placed the bottle on a coaster and slid it over to him, tapping the bar top with your hand and serving him with a smile.  He thanked you, which you were appreciative of, before he turned to his friend next to him and continued conversing.  

Moving back to the middle of the bar, you noticed a few empty glasses in front of empty bar stools with bills pinned under them.  Taking the bills and pocketing them, you took the glasses and stashed them below the bar in a small tub you kept in a metal cart for easily putting dirty dishes for later. 

As you wiped down the bar top, you saw another person, clad in a full black get-up slide into a bar stool that was recently left vacant.  They weren’t far from you, just a few feet, but you could smell the scent of smoke on them.  You sighed, knowing exactly who it was.  Anyone would think that the man who just sat down was just a heavy smoker- and he was, but not so much recently so he claims- but you knew better. 

He lifted his arm to rest his elbow on the bar, his chin resting in his palm as you felt him stare at you.  

You didn’t say a thing to him, only got a glass off the shelf behind you, mixed some coke with some rum and added a scoop of ice, before placing the glass on some napkins and sliding it towards him. 

“Like usual?” You asked, retracting your hand as he had already started to pick up the glass to sip on it. 

“Like usual,” he confirmed.  This particular man had a deep voice, always laced with a small rough sound- more rough when he’s tired or just plain exhausted.  It was a side effect of the smoking and other smoke-like quirks of his personality.  “You seem busy tonight.”

“We’re always busy on Fridays, nothing unusual about that.  It’s the start of the weekend, everyone wants to drink.” You threw your cleaning rag over your shoulder, shouting to a call of another bar sitting patron as you felt the black, clad, mask covered man’s eyes on your. “You gonna stick around all night, or are you gonna drink and go this time?” 

He pulled his mask down to uncover his mouth, dark scars showing under the hood of his jacket just long enough to take a sip, and pull it back over his face.  Setting the glass down, he let out a breath and circled his finger along the rim. 

“I think I’ll stick around, just to annoy you.” You could hear the smirk on his face as you held back an eye roll for professionalism’s sake. 

“How courteous, thank you so very much.” He chuckled at your reply as you left your place in front of him to tend to others paging you left and right. He pushed his curled hand into his cheek as he watched you pad back and forth behind the long bar.  You should be grateful he at least planned on paying tonight. 

He remained on his barstool the next few hours, only shifting to look around, take a short spin on the stool, or stand to stretch his hunched body before sitting back down.  Each time his glass was close to empty, you’d knock your knuckles on the bar top- a signal asking if he wanted a refill- and he'd either knock back or keep the glass away from you as a form of saying yes or no. 

Though, it wouldn’t be a proper Friday night mid-shift without something going wrong. 

You weren’t sure why, but when 2 am started rolling around, you always grew weary of your patrons.  It was the prime time for tipsy, or smashed, people to start trouble. Whether with you, or with other paying customers, or  even your employees.  Out of all options, you wished they’d pester you so you don’t have to deal with someone else being harassed.  Though, even when it did happen to you- which was often since your place was stuck behind a wooden, polished bar- you didn’t ever appreciate it. 

You glanced around the filled room and saw a few familiar faces of villains you had treated before who decided to stay in your good graces. 

Them being there did make you feel a bit better about you own safety since you knew if something were to happen, they’d jump up to throw down on your behalf, even if you could handle yourself plenty well. 

You were once again wiping down the wood of your bar for the gazillionth time this evening when some scumbag, a smashed man who was well over your age, stumbled his way to the bar and slumped himself into a stool and leaned over the counter like some hunchbacked gargoyle. 

He reached over the bar to start to fiddle with the beer spigots that lined the end of it. Before he could create a giant mess in the tray beneath them and onto the floor, you rushed over and slapped his hands away.  

Instead of hissing at your stinging slaps, he whistled at your actions to keep your property away from him grime hands as you rolled your eyes.  

“Sir, keep your hands off of the bar tools.” You reached over and grabbed the half empty bottle of beer from his hands before you poured the rest of the alcohol out of it and tossed it under the bar into the bin where it clinked together with the other beer bottles you’ve tossed tonight. “I’m cutting you off. Sober up, leave your payment and get out before I have you thrown out.” 

From down the bar, you knew the scarred man in black was watching you. Whenever this kind of scene went down, you could feel his and all the other familiar eyes on you.  For villains, they sure were people of action and debt. Made you feel bad for calling them villains- if you didn’t think about the crimes they most definitely committed on a day-to-day basis. 

The drunk man slurred what you assumed was probably something close to reluctance at you cutting him off for the night and your swift decision to kick him out after he paid what he owed.  

Persistently reaching over to try and yank on the spigots again, you once again slapped his hands away, going a step further and grabbing his wrists and tossing them away back over to his side of the bar. 

“I won’t ask you again, sir.” 

Your familiar scarred man set down his drink, the contents in it empty as the remaining, semi-melted ice cubes fell together in satisfying clinks against the glass. 

It was times like now where you wished the quirk laws would allow you to use your quirk publicly without a permit or license because of riffraff like this oh-so-lovely hammered gentleman.  You were one to break the rules anyways, so you would if push came to shove regardless and you knew that your customers would keep their mouths shut about it.  

You’ve gone many a night with bar fights and tassels and not a single cop was called because you could handle the situation yourself, or your trusty villain’s had your back. Your little pub and you were a bend in the rules with a great camouflage jacket over your head and trustful patrons willing to keep a secret or get so drunk they don’t remember what happened.  Either option suited you well. 

You weren't a hero, nor a villain.  You were in the middle- a civilian with some spare time and no interest in sharing what you did the time you're not running your pub. 

The man stood from his stool the moment you turned your back to him and not only did he shove his arm against three different beer spigots in a clumsy fall against the bar, but he partly climbed over the bar, reached towards you and yanked you back by your shoulder just so he could get a solid slap on your ass. 

The shriek you let out wasn’t loud, it was more of shock of what was happening, followed by instant disgust.  Your rear stung at the strength the disgusting man used to slap it before he was drunkenly laughing, his gross breath wafting towards you from his half climbed over body. 

Before you could take care of the situation yourself, he was yanked back off to his side of the bar onto his wobbly feet. The instant his feet hit the tile and his chin even twitched to look around to see what yanked him back, glass shattered across his face. 

The scarred man who had silently kept you company tonight- and previous nights before that- had grabbed the back of the man’s shirt, yanked him back and away from you as you righted the beer spigots that had already created a big enough mess and smashed his empty, rum glass against the side of his head. 

The drunk man hit the ground, grabbing and holding his head as blood dripped from the side of his face and ear.  The scarred man looked down at him, shaking his hand about, the purple scars of his wrist showing as he shook the limb.  The glass seemed to nick his palm a bit upon impact, but nothing compared to the nasty wound on the drunk’s face.  

As the drunk lay on the ground, groaning and bleeding, your defender bent to riffle through his pocket and nabbed his wallet.  Pulling out both a card and a wad of cash, he held both towards you. 

“What’s his tab?” His rough voice was stern as you just sighed.  

You plucked bills from his hand, a handful of twenties, before you put it into your pocket.  You looked around, seeing a table from the corner lift a bill in his hand before he waved it at you.  You nodded- they were signaling they had his bill.  They then held up four fingers and then a fist.  A four dollar tab.  You decided that you’d keep the extra as a bonus and maybe tip your workers as well for his behavior.  

“He’s good to go.” You said as the scarred man put the card back into his wallet and shoved it back into his jacket pocket.  He then picked the drunk off the tile and shoved him out the doors before making his way back to the bar. 

He stepped over his glass and ice mess as he toed at a larger piece of glass that used to be the bottom of it.  He then looked at you with a shrug. You could practically seem the smirk on his face before he spoke.

“My bad.” 

Instead of saying anything, you placed a small plastic tub on the bar top and slid it towards him. You flicked your eyes down and he just sighed.  Squatting, he picked up his mess of glass and ice the best he could before he gave the tub back to you to throw away.  You had already gotten a start on the beer mess that made your nose twitch at the stench.  

You always hated the smell of beer. 

“Smells like piss,” you muttered to yourself. The scarred man heard you loud and clear though and he stifled a laugh at your annoyance. Once you had it more or less cleaned, you glanced at the closed fist of the man’s cut up hand. You saw small beads of red drop onto your bar. You pushed a handful of napkins towards him to squeeze into his palm. “Come down when we close. We’ll get your hand properly cleaned up.” 

He didn’t argue. Just chuckled as he took a sip out of his water bottle you had placed in front of him as he shut the napkins in his grip tightly. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” 

-x-x-x-

4 am: closing time.  You sigh as you bid your final employee farewell before you locked the door behind them. You sighed as you walked back to the bar, untying your apron from your waist on the way.  You emptied the pockets and placed whatever was inside on the bar top.  There was only one person left in the bar, in the same stool he had been in all night.  

You thumbed through the bills in your pockets, rounding to behind the bar and unlocking the always locked money drawer just under the far end of the counter where a small card swipe sat for patrons not paying with cash.  

Tucking your cash safely away and locking the drawer shut you stashed the key on the keyring with all your other keys in the pocket of your jeans.  You pulled your phone from your back pocket and checked the time.  About half after now.  

“Okay,” you spoke, the man already standing. “Come around the bar and we’ll head down.” 

He followed your lead, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his large jacket with his hood still on even in the new found privacy.  You walked back into the kitchen and beyond to a small landing that had an unlabeled door and then a separate staircase leading upward past a different doorframe.  He looked up the stairs, knowing full well that beyond them lays your apartment.  

Part of him was envious that you lived in your place of work. Technically, he could live in his, but he had his own separate place of peace away for breathers. He could only deal with his comrades for so long in a single span of time. 

You unlocked the unlabeled door that you told everyone who asked was just a closet for your personal belongings that didn’t fit up in the apartment. Opening it, another set of stairs that lead down was beyond it. 

Descending them, the man followed and shut the door behind him. He locked it when it was shut at his back. There was a different entrance to the basement he was descending into outside the bar anyways for the people who knew it was there and needed it.  

At the bottom, you flipped on the lights to the large, open room.  It wasn’t a giant space, but it was large enough to move around and there was a sofa, a work bench you used as a counter for coffee and random objects, tables and chairs for your patients waiting comfortably.  There were two rooms off two of the left side of the main ‘waiting room’ and one to the right- all solitary rooms for overnight patients.  The furthest back room had no door and just past the frame was a storage room of medicine, wraps, gauze, antiseptics, salves- just whatever you could get your hands on. 

You’re even occasionally gifted treatment items from past clients in hopes to repay the debt they feel they may owe you.

You point towards the long, hard top operating table in the back as you make your way to one of the shelves on the wall.  You kept all the basic first aid out in the open since they were easy to replace.

“Go sit,” you direct as the man flipped off his hood and unzipped his jacket.  His white tank top was wrinkle from being inside the stuffy jacket all night and he adjusted his belt to sit comfortably and not pull on his belt loops to dig into his hips.  Ruffling his black hair, he made his way to the table to lean against it. 

You were soon in front of him, hand out towards him asking for his own to inspect.  

“You’re always causing some sort of scene every time you come by. You realize it’s getting old, right Dabi?” 

The face stapled, scarred pyro-villain just grinned down at you, chest jolting with a scoff of amusement as you pulled the blood beaded napkins he held in his hand since you gave it to him away. Then, you poked around with tweezers pulling small pieces of glass away from his skin.

“Don’t lie. You love when I come by. Besides, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.” 

“I don’t need to be ‘kept on my toes’,” you tutted, making sure there were no pieces of glass left in his palm.  When there appeared to be none, you started dabbing the small cuts with antiseptic as he just kept leisurely leaning on your table.  “If you keep coming here and just to get all cut up, I’m going to start charging you for not only your drinks, but all the patching up I do to you too.” 

“Oh, you’d never,” he mused. He knew you all too well and he also knew that even if he were here daily for scratching his knee or getting a paper cut, you’d never have the heart to charge him anything when it came to treatment.  

Maybe he took advantage of that, maybe he didn’t.  

It didn’t help that he knew you had the hots for him- I mean, you did tell him about how you felt weeks ago; straight o his face no less. He just brushed it all off, knowing good and well that he and relationships in general just didn’t work out.  Besides, he was someone the public knew the face of and he wasn’t just someone to pass on the street and forget the face of.  

Dabi rejected you, you knew he would, but he let you down as easy as he could.  You just simply wanted to put your feelings out there so nothing would be awkward in the future.  It stung sure, but you felt more open with your feelings not bottled up in secrecy.

You wrapped his hand in gauze and called it good enough, placing all your things back where they were. Dabi looked at his hand, flipping it back and forth as he inspected how neatly you’ve gotten at wrapping bandages since the very first time. 

“Not bad,” he hummed. The first time he heard of you and came to get treated, you had to treat a nasty gash on his leg and you were clumsily with your bandaging since he was already covered in scars.  You were so confused on if you could cover them or not and if you did, if there was a special way.  You leaved quickly though. 

“Not like you could do any better.  You don’t really need any more stitches or staples than you already have.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t think they’re sexy,” he teased as he stood up straight, plunging his hands into his pants pockets as he began to follow you around the basement room to room like a dog.  You soon left your basement, going back up the stairs, opening the door and leaving before going up the second set of stairs leading up to your apartment.  

Dabi followed you the entire way with a shit eating grin on his face.  

You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door and looked over your shoulder and down to the burnt man just behind you on lower stair steps.  

“Do you need something?” 

“Yeah. Inside.” 

You cursed under your breath, going inside and him following knowing that you couldn’t argue him out of it.  He often did this, getting treated and then going up to your apartment.  In fact, there was a time when he would pick your lock and let himself in, so you ended up making him a copy so he could just stop doing it. 

He may not be good in relationships and definitely not looking for one, on top of rejecting you, but he could very well enjoy his evenings pestering you instead. they were two distinctly different situations.   

Kicking off his boots and fumbling with his jacket, he hung it on the coat wrack- not willing to be yelled at by you for making your home a mess with his junk again- and let himself in.  He immediately made a beeline for your living room and plopped himself on your couch like he owned the place and paid your bills.  

You had ventured to the kitchen before you went to the living room and tossed him something.  Catching it, he saw a poptart in his hand, still wrapped in it’s aluminum wrapping.  

“Eat. I’m taking a shower.” He shrugged as you turned and headed to shower as he flipped on your television and let himself finally relax. 

It was odd, being around you and in your home.  He didn’t even feel this relaxed and loose in his own apartment by himself.  Where he lived was nothing fancy and it was cheap, but it was his and the location was kept on the downlow just like he needed.  Spending time with the league was fine and dandy, but they could be so damned irritating sometimes, so he didn’t dare even try and nap at the base. 

He let his head fall back against the couch and he took deep breaths.  

On occasions like this, he did feel a bit guilty.  It’s not like he was actually taking advantage of your feelings or your kindness to do what he wanted, you were just  too nice for your own good and let him. Don’t get him wrong, you would scold him if he did something you didn’t like- like leaving his jacket on the floor- so it wasn’t like you didn’t want him here. 

Dabi could hear your shower running just barely under the sound of the tv’s noise.  Sometimes, he’d find himself thinking back to when you told him how you felt and how easily you accepted the fact he said no. 

He was just coming back from another stupid league mission and had a pretty nasty cut behind his left shoulder. You were cleaning the blood off his skin, trying not to snag your rags in any staples before you were smearing something onto the wound, making him sigh in of relief of the cooling sensation. 

It was when you were pasting a gauze pad on his shoulder and patching it on securely when you blurted out that you liked him. All he did when you said that was laugh at you, to which your silence that followed explained that you weren’t joking and were in fact serious.  He looked at you with a face you hadn’t seen before, a look of vulnerability for just a moment, before it shifted to one of seriousness. 

“I’m not interested. Sorry, doll.” You nodded at his quick rejection. Though you accepted it fairly easily, he could still see the slight furrow of your brow and dip in your lips with his rejection.  You may have even seen his rejection coming, but hearing it still had to be a blow to your heart. 

He was glad the relationship between you two hadn’t changed regardless of how you felt and how he said no.  You still put up with his bullshit and he still hung around like a fly you couldn’t smash under a flyswatter because it kept evading the strikes.  It was still comfortable here- in your place. 

Dabi stood from the couch, moving to your window only to lean out when he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. You had really gotten on his ass once when you caught him smoking in the middle of your living room without a window even open.  You told him to smoke out a window, or go outside to contaminate his lungs claiming you dealt with the smell of smoke enough during bar hours. 

Flicking a small, blue flame with his index finger, he lit the stick and huffed.  Nicotine really accompanied his quirk- it was like he and cigarettes were just meant to be since he himself was a human-sized lighter.

He heard the door to your bathroom open and soon you stepped out with grey sweat and a cheap, cutoff shirt that just barely exposed your stomach on, towel drying your hair.  You looked at him, water still barely dripping off your eyelashes and hair strands untouched by the towel.  

“Glad to see you’re listening to me,” you told him as you nodded towards the smoke that he took a draw from.  He puffed the smoke out the window as he turned around to lean against the open pane.  His hand out the window to keep the crumbling ash from dropping inside.  

“I can behave sometimes too, you know.”

You scoffed at him, turning to grab a water bottle from your fridge in the kitchen and returning to the living room.  “Yeah, not likely.” You sat on the couch to mindlessly watch whatever channel the tv was on and once Dabi and finished smoking, he shut the window and rejoined you on the couch.  His arm was resting on the back of the couch as you had pulled out your phone and began to scroll through apps and occasionally looking back up to the tv. 

It was moments like this where the uncertainty really hit him.  

It was this- these comfortable situations- that frightened him.  He was a bad person, a person who’s done bad things and will continue to do bad things.  He used to sit around your apartment and bug you with questions.  Had you ever ratted anyone out? Were you really a completely secretive person when it came to your unofficial side job? Were you really someone to be trusted? Why did you do what you did in the first place? 

Now, he didn’t ask anything anymore. He grimaced at himself. Maybe he was letting himself get too comfortable here. 

“I’m going away for a while,” he suddenly blurted out.  You glanced up at him from your phone. 

“Have some big job or something coming up?” 

“Yeah,” he lied, “some league stuff I gotta deal with.” 

“Any idea how long you’ll be gone?” 

“No idea.  Probably a few weeks I bet.” Dabi couldn’t stop himself from lying to you and he got irritated at himself for feeling even the slightest bit bad for doing so. This was the only way though, the only way to try and get back to the rough, guarded villain he was supposed to always be.  

Dabi had to get away from you for a while. 

“Well,” you started, looking back down.  He looked at you, seeing you frown just a bit- he bit his cheek.  “Stay safe. If you need any patching up when you get back, you know where to find me.” 

He lowered his chin, his eyes lidding as he hardened his resolve. His decision was final, and he had to follow through with it.  He looked back to the tv, trying to bask in theses few final moments. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

-x-x-x-

Dabi’s irritated. He’s been irritated actually.  

He’s sitting at the bar, not your bar, but the bar in the league’s headquarters.  He sat slouched in a stool as Kurogiri- as usual- stood behind the bar.  The glass of some brown liquor that Dabi had nursed for the past hour started to taste like static to him.  He missed your bar’s liquor- the revelation made him more irritated. 

The entire reason he’s avoided going to your pub and always looked around corners in the city to make sure you wouldn’t bump into him by accident was so he could squash whatever the fuck he was feeling when he was around you down into dust.  Though, theses recent last couple days had proven that his plan was backfiring. 

Instead of forgetting what it felt like to be comfortable and content and relaxed, he was missing it.  He was missing the air of serene you always carried everywhere you went and he dared to say he yearned for it again.  

Dabi clicked his tongue as he pushed his forehead into his palm when Shigiraki had walked into the bar from wherever he had been before.  Seeing the hunched over excuse of a comrade, he groaned. The leader had often heard of your patchwork jobs for villains.  He himself had even met with you once- not for any injuries he had sustained, but for a simple meeting to exchange greetings with potential allies. Anything helped for his cause. 

Shigiraki also knew that Dabi often frequented your pub, and for whatever reason he hadn’t been recently.  His sour mood as of late paired with his lack of attendance to your business and attention was too easy to put together.  

“I’m really sick of you moping around here,” the leader complained.  Dabi lifted his forehead from his palm and glared across the room to the leader who now took a seat one stool away from Dabi. “Go be a killjoy somewhere else.” 

“Oh, piss off.” 

His mood began to spiral rapidly when Toga and Twice had come into the bar as well, coming back from wherever the fuck they had been.  Toga- trying her best to get on Dabi’s every nerve- was told by Kurogiri that his mood was unpleasant because he hadn’t been to a specific bar in town for some time now.  

Dabi felt offended that Kurogiri connected his bad mood to the bar and not you. 

“Maybe I should kick the crap outta you myself, so you can go back to what's-her-name and then maybe you’ll finally lose the attitude.” Okay, that one earned the hand-fetishist leader a growl from the pyromaniac. It only made Shigiraki scoff in a small victory, knowing that everyone around the league could see that his sour mood was solely revolving around you- or lack thereof.

Toga, ever on the hunt for new ‘friends’, immediately jumped at the idea of finally going to the mystery lady who heals everyone just because she has a kind heart.  An idea that Dabi shut down without so much as batting an eyelash. 

“But, why not!” Toga whined.  Dabi rolled his eyes.  Villain or not, Toga was just a high schooler with more than enough psychotic tendencies to warrant concern. If he had it his way- you’d never even get the chance to set your eyes on the blonde, twin-bunned psycho.  

The constant chartering centering in on him and you began to grate on his nerves and before long he was stomping up to his feet and out the bar door.  Shigiraki just scoffed as Toga pouted. Twice was simply mocking and jesting at the burned man who ‘just ran away’.  

Dabi had had enough.  He was going back to your pub- but it wasn’t going to be because he missed you.  He just wanted a drink in peace and fucking quiet. At least away from those idiots. 

-x-x-x- 

Dabi had slithered his way into your bar- pushing his way in with a group so that when you shouted from your place behind the bar to greet them in and to tell them to just find a seat, you wouldn’t recognize him. He had stopped by his apartment before making his way here to change into clothes he hoped you wouldn’t recognize him in either.  

The large, indigo tinted turtle neck he wore was way too large on his torso. The neck was horribly stretched out and pulled up as far as it could be to cover his jaw and mouth so that he didn’t have to wear the mask he knew you would recognize.. He traded his normal jacket with a different one he’d kept around for city crawling as he had it half way zipped up and the hood flipped up to hide his hair and scarred ears. Keeping his chin down, he used the shadow of his hood and the shadows the pub lights casted to keep the scars just under his eyes more or less out of sight.  

He grumbled at himself. Why was he going to such lengths to make sure you didn’t see him in the first place?   In the past, he wouldn’t have gone to the lengths to stay on the downlow in public like this; he would’ve just gone back home and crashed or drank alone or something of the sort.  You probably weren’t even under the impression he was back from the mission you thought he was on.

He slid into a booth in the back corner where he could still see you working behind the bar.  Pacing back and forth, talking and serving patrons and just doing your general work.  It felt strange seeing you work from all the way in the back instead of in his usual barstool, front row seat.  He bit his tongue when he caught himself almost missing his up close proximity to you. 

He was soon slid a bottle of beer- even if he didn’t really like the taste- as he nursed it.  He’d occasionally scan the bar to see what kind of business you had tonight.  When he wasn’t, he was scrolling mindlessly on his phone with glances up to the bar every so often.  He felt uneasy when you weren’t in his sights, even with you so close by.  

An hour after he had entered the pub, the doors had opened roughly enough to make tables turn their heads or hush up their conversations to see who had just made the racket coming in.  Dabi glanced, pulling his hood back just a bit to see past the fabric of it. 

A group of three men had walked into the pub.  Gruff looking fellas, but nothing all that special.  They started scanning the pub area, looking from tables, to faces, to chairs, all the way to the bar.  The flame user didn’t appreciate the snarl on the middle man’s face when his eyes landed on you busting the bar top with your rag.  

Shutting the door behind them, the three of them split apart, one heading towards the rec room and another heading in Dabi’s side of the bar. The middle man marched up towards the bar and instead of taking a seat- opted to lean on the bar between two already seated patrons.  They ended up leaving their bills and scurrying out of the joint. 

You took their payment and bit your tongue to keep from telling the obviously trouble-looking newcomer off for running off your customers.  In fact, you completely disregarded him.  

Once your bills were collected and placed into your apron pocket, you looked at the middle man leaning on the bar square in the eyes.  You held unamused eye contact with him for a beat before you shut your eyes and easily turned away from him. 

Clearly unhappy with the attention he so desperately wanted, he reached over the bar and yanked on the back of your work button up.  You let out a shocked, choked gasp as you dropped the glass you had in your hand.  The sound of shattering glass echoed around the pub as it became completely silent.  

Dabi jumped from his booth, standing at his table instead of leisurely sitting like he had been as he watched the man reach out for your shirt. He growled under his breath when he yanked you back towards him over the bar. 

This trouble-seeker was new to your pub, you could tell this the moment he came in with his two buddies.  He didn’t know of the amount of eyes on him now that he had gained the attention he wanted.  And he didn’t know how many of those eyes were villains ready to take him out. 

You coughed as he tried dragging you completely over the bar just by your shirt collar.  Your lower back pushed painfully into the wooden edge of the bar as your heels came off the floor, your toes being the only leverage you had left on your side of the bar top.  

You wanted to swing your elbow back and pop the son of a bitch in the nose, but you had to keep all ten of your fingers on the front of your collar to keep it from painfully pulling against your throat. You attempted to unbutton the top buttons for a window of breath, but you didn’t get the chance to before you were dropped.  

“Hey!” A voice you had recognized from a past medical visit came from behind you and the man yanking on your shirt.  He had groaned as he dropped you, your unsteady toes combined with your heels slamming back down to the floor and your spine dragging down the edge of the bar all made you drop to the floor.  You hunched over on the floor, gagging as you pulled on your shirt’s fabric away from your neck- the hemming all stretched out and well ruined by now.  

The bar felt like walls that encased around your slumped over body and you soon felt someone hop over the bar and rub your back.  Looking up with teary eyes from your lack of breath, you recognized the female criminal you had treated a handful of times before.  She soothed you behind the bar as it sounded like pure chaos erupted from beyond the bar. 

The short screams and shouts of whatever customer didn’t feel like fighting and fleeing.  you even heard your employees ducking out- as you instructed them to do when bar fights broke out. You did not want to feel out accident reports, so your rules of running when things get nasty was non-negotiable.

You were content to just stay sitting on the floor, catching your breath until the fighting was done.  You knew those who were fighting against the law were already defending you and your pub- they would take care of it.  

It was their safe space and these thugs had just tried disrupting that space. 

It was only when a plume of fire shot out from what looked like to be the back corner of your pub did you jump to your feet. Leaning against the bar with the villainess at your side, holding you to make sure you didn’t tumble over, you saw Dabi.  

“Dabi?!” You were shocked to see him. He hadn’t been around due to his work (so he told you), and you were confused on why he was here now.  Why was he wearing clothes you hadn’t seen before and when did he get here?  

He was quick to jump into the fray, mixing in with forces to drive the stupid thugs out of your pub, but not without beating them within an inch of their life first. Between tables being thrown, chairs knocked over, fire bursting then dispersing and fist and legs flying- it was hard to keep up with what was actually happening.  

What you did see though, was from the rec room someone coming out and pointing their fingers out towards your villains- your allies.  Their fingertips started to open and sharp, needle like tips were ready to be fired out of them.  

You climbed over the bar, the villainess calling out to you to not get involved.  You stumbled into a chair, holding yourself up as you shouted over the commotion. 

“Hey! Get behind a wall or table!” You pointed to the man under the rec room doorway.  “Don’t let whatever he’s gonna shoot out of his fingers hit you!” You were ready to duck back behind a table when you were shoved in the chest by the third man you saw enter with the thugs earlier.  He just appeared from no where it seemed when he struck you.

Knocking you into a nearby table, you slid onto it before it tipped and you tumbled off of it when it fell.  Groaning, you cursed under your breath.  You were getting really fucking sick of being pushed around tonight.  You got to your knees to get yourself back to your feet when you felt something push against your back and wrap around your shoulders, keeping you down. 

Whatever was keeping you down and covered was warm.  It covered your back and kept your shoulders encased.  Reaching up, it was an arm that wrapped around your and it was someone’s chest that pushed against your back.  Looking back you saw his scarred ears and neck before you saw his face. Not to mention the blast of burning blue that shot out opposite of his outstretched other arm.

“Dabi,” you gasped as you felt his body start to push more into yourself.  You whined, his weight beginning to crush you. “Hey, get off me,” you huffed.  

“Oh, you so owe me,” he chuckled before he fell against your completely. His arm dropped and the one that wrapped around you previous fell limp and released you. Rolling off to the side awkwardly to try and catch his fall to the tile, you saw a small needle sticking from his neck.  

“Oh, shit” you muttered.  Turning, you lifted a table to cover your back while the rest of the chaos kept going on behind you.  Pushing him onto his back, he was out cold.  Looking him over, you didn’t see any worrisome wounds on him- in fact he didn’t look wounded at all.  It was only that needle in his neck. “No doubt from that guy’s quirk,” you mumbled as you inspected it.  

Did he cover you so you didn’t get hit with the needle instead? You didn’t want to work yourself up into a frenzy at the thought of him taking a shot for you- but no matter how you looked at the situation, that was exactly what happened. 

It was a small, thin like a sewing needle with a ball point on the back of it.  Whatever this needle is coated in obviously knocked the pyro out.  You peeked over the table to see the same man ready to shoot a second round from his fingertips. 

“Take out the needle shooter! His needles will render you unconscious!” Your shouted leadership to take out one of the three low-level threats was clear and it was probably 20 minutes later when the three thugs were tied up and unconscious.  

You sighed, finally feeling safe again in your busted and destroyed bar.  You groaned for the umpteenth time knowing it was going to cost a fortune to get the tables repaired.  Not to mention the seared wallpaper that peeled from the previous heat and broken glasses, frames and damaged light fixtures.  You would have to close your doors for repairs for at least a month. 

As you looked around, you moved from your sitting position to instead kneel at Dabi’s side. 

“Can someone help me bring him downstairs? And lock the entrance.” Dabi was picked up and was soon being carried back behind the bar and through the doors, waiting for you to come unlock the way down as someone else had safely latched your pub doors shut. Your employees would understand if you just shot them a few texts.  

Before you went into the back, you pointed at the unconscious needle shooter.  “Also, bring him down too, but keep him tied up.  I need to know what his quirk is so that I know exactly why he did and how to treat it. Anyone else who needs treatment, you can come down too.” 

An hour later, you had Dabi’s unconscious body hooked up in one of your rooms to small machines to make sure he wasn’t dying.  Whatever the needle was- you concluded that it at least wasn’t poisonous.  You had taken it from his neck and had it run for tests.  It wasn’t coated in anything, but the tip of it had released a sort of potion into his body from where he had been stores in the ball point end; but you weren’t sure what it was.  

You moved away from your laptop on the small desk you had next to Dabi’s temporary bed.  You leaned your elbow against the wood and stared at him.  

“Until I figure out what exactly happened, I have no idea when he’ll wake up.” You frowned as worry began to churn in your stomach.  It eased you that his life didn’t seem to be in danger, but that didn’t really help anything else.  He was immobile and unresponsive until further notice as far as you knew.

You sighed getting up and searching for his phone.  Finding it in his jacket pocket, you plucked it out and began to go through his contacts.  You were glad you watched him punch in his lock code one day and held it in your memory. 

Finding a contact under ‘Childish Leader’, you immediately began to ring it.  You knew who Dabi worked under, and who this so called ‘childish leader’ was- you did meet with him one time after all.  When the line picked up, you were greeted with a sigh. 

“What,” a strained voice annoyingly greeted.  

“You’ll want to come to the location I’m about to send you,” you started. You swore you heard the frown and confused brow drip on his face when it wasn’t Dabi’s voice that was on the phone.  “Want to know what happened to Dabi? Then get your wrap quirked friend to get you over here, Shigaraki.” 

You quickly ended the call, letting out a shaky breath and feeling your heart pound in your chest. Dabi only ever really complained about Shigaraki, and you had only met hi that one time for general introductions, so you didn’t know much about him.  You hoped that just telling him what to do before sending him your coordinates would be enough to just get him to show up.  You’d deal with the rest later. 

You stood from your chair as you looked down at Dabi.  He always looked quite peaceful sleeping- it was odd since he was always scowling when he was awake. He’d smirk and tease, sure, but you don’t think you’d ever seen a real smile on his face before.  

You chuckled to yourself, touching his hair just once before you stopped- knowing he didn’t like you touching him like that.  He wanted to keep you at arms length because of your feelings and you knew that- so unconscious or not, you had to keep his wants at the forefront of your mind.  

A knock sounded at the door when you saw one of your allied villains come in.  “Some guys are in the bar, asking for you.  Some freak with a hand on his face and a gimp looking dude.”  You almost laughed at the villain's description. 

“Tell them I’ll be up in a moment.” The villain left as you looked once more at Dabi. You smiled down at him. “Thanks for the save, you reckless idiot.” 

-x-x-x-

Dabi groaned as he rolled from his back to his side.  He was only vaguely aware he was previously on his back ,which already annoyed him- he was not a back sleeper.  He peeked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling above him.  

That wasn’t his apartment ceiling? Sitting up, he rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes and taking a breath.  His head pounded and he opened his eyes back up to see the room he was in.  It wasn’t his apartment at all.  He was in a bedroom, but he hadn’t seen this room before.  

The last thing he remembered was jumping into a bar fight at your pub and then covering your back when that finger-freak tried shooting something out of his fingertip at you.  He didn’t even realize his body moved until he felt the needle meant for you dart into his neck.  

Rubbing at his neck, he felt no pain.  Getting up, he looked around the room.  

This room wasn’t yours- he’d seen it before- and it wasn’t anyone else’s he knew of. He wasn’t at the league HQ either, that run down place didn’t have rooms as well kept at this one. Surely you wouldn’t have pushed him off to some random villain until he woke up and this was some stranger’s room... right?   

After a moment, he started getting nosy. As he opened more drawers and books and notepads, he got more and more confused. These were all things he was interested in.  All the notebooks had his handwriting in them and his name was signed on papers and sticky notes scattered on a corkboard hanging on the wall.  The phone on the bedside table and he unlocked with his passcode and started going through it- it was all his information just like normal, but something was off. 

He felt off.  He looked at his palms, the scars he’s had since he was younger still showing on his skin.  Something nagged in the back of his head and he knew that he had to get answers and the best way to do that is to track you down.  

Grabbing a jacket and zipping it up to his chin and placing sunglasses on his face, he left the room that was filled with, presumably his own things, but definitely not his things. 

The roads and buildings all around were the same as he remembered.  However, when he came to your pub’s building, it looked different.  Shabby almost. Trying to go inside, the door was rusted and jammed. Jostling with the door wasn’t getting him anywhere and he knew if he tried to bust it down you’d have his ass on the wall for the damage.  

Looking up, he saw the window that lead into the living room of your apartment.  Walking around the building he started up the fire escape and carefully treaded the side of the building to the window before he shimmied it open from the outside and hopped inside. 

“What the fuck?” The apartment that was once filled with your furniture and belongings was empty.  Not just empty, but it was dusty, barren and isolated like no one had been in there for years. Jogging downstairs, he ran into the bar to find it the same way: empty.

No tables, no chairs, no booths.  No bottles lining the dusty shelves and no frames of art or recreational items in the rec room. it even still had the old, tacky wallpaper instead of the wallpaper he remembered. The stench of dust filtered through his nose and made his throat burn- it was apparent that the place hadn’t been aired out in years.  

Turning back, the door to the basement he had been in so many times wasn’t even there.  When he left the building to go to the basement the backway, the backway in didn’t seem to exist either.  It was like the basement he had spent so much time in with you patching him up was never there to begin with. 

“This is fucking crazy,” he mumbled as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  He wasn’t used to feeling whatever was bubbling in his chest.  It was painful, like caltrops tearing apart his stomach and chest as he searching for your number in his contacts.  He began to start walking back to where your apartment use to be, to go back inside the abandoned pub, when he dialed your phone.  He was soon stuck in his tracks when he caught sight of his reflection in a window.  

The window’s glass was cracked, barely held in place in the frame as he stared back at his reflection.  Reaching up, he ran his scarred hand through his hair. His hair that wasn’t dyed black; his hair that was as white as his mothers. 

“Where the fuck am I?” He breathed as he heard the monotone voice over the phone. 

-I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed does not exist-

[imagines-r-s]

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 7

a/n: besties, it’s here. this is so wholesome, i swear to god. i don’t really have much else to say, but i do plan on continuing writing fics for the ‘sticking it’ universe?? (idk if that’s the right way to word that) so if you have requests for fics that still follow y/n and joel after the olympics or even throughout the series, i will gladly accept those requests. feedback is welcome, please enjoy

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland​ @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23 @iwantahockeyhimbo @dreamsndior

warnings: high school musical, an annoying amount of fluff, maybe another your mom joke, bestie adrian

sticking it masterlist

wc: 3.0k

(gif not mine)

As soon as the boys got back from the roadie, everyone was ready to go home and sleep in their own bed. Winning two of the three games during the trip, most of the guys had been running on adrenaline, but were ready to crash. 

When Joel entered his apartment, still in his suit, ready to go to bed, he was shocked to see that some of his lights and his tv were on. He knew that he had double checked to make sure that they were off, but when he saw a pair of crutches leaning near where his couch was he quickly figured out why. 

He took note of the way you had fallen asleep on his couch, still in one of his jerseys, and with your phone still in your hand. “Hey, babe, wake up,” he spoke softly which caused you to simply groan in response and turn around, “y/n/n, c’mon.”

Turning back around to face him, you smiled, which quickly dropped seconds later as you realized you had intended to stay awake to see him, “oh my god, I was supposed to stay awake to surprise you.”

“Aw, don’t stress it. Seeing you here was a really good surprise either way.”

“Bee, can you do me a favor?” you asked, starting to get up. He simply hummed in response, “do you think you could step outside, act like you haven’t come in here yet, and act shocked once you get back?”

“You’re so dramatic, I swear.”

“Ah, ah, ah, I just want to know if you’ll walk back outside,” you said, smiling as he rolled his eyes before turning around and walking out of the door, “make sure you close the door for even more dramatic effect.”

Joel simply rolled his eyes once more before walking back into his apartment, “oh my gosh, babe, what a surprise to see you here. Never expected that one, that’s insane.” 

“Thank you,” you yawned, “I kinda missed you, not gonna lie.”

“Kinda?”

“Yes, I will not admit to anything more.”

“Ok, I missed you,too. C’mon, let’s go to bed though,” he grabbed your crutches from beside the couch and brought them to you. 

“I’m fine just going home,” you said, but once you yawned again, you knew he would immediately reject that idea. 

“You are way too tired to drive right now.”

“I have physical therapy tomorrow and if I stay here-”

“I’ll take you there tomorrow or at least just make sure you’re up in time, don’t stress it. Now, c’mon, you need some sleep,” he said, ushering you towards his room. As he started walking, he paused halfway through the hall, “wait, how’d you get in here?”

“I took a locksmith class once,” you said, shrugging, which only left him more confused. 

 “Um, alright,” he said as the two of you made your way towards his room. As you entered, you noticed the various pictures and hockey related things in his room. pictures of the team, along with pictures of his friends and family, pucks from his first nhl goal and his first hat trick sitting on one of the shelves. 

As you glanced around his room, you took note of how his room wasn’t a mess, but it wasn’t completely clean either. taking a seat on his bed, you set your crutches off to the side near his bed. “As much as I love seeing you in my jersey, I don't think it’s the best thing to sleep in,” Joel said, throwing you one of his shirts. 

“Awe, pretty boy. That’s very sweet. as much as I love seeing you in your suit, it might not be the best thing to sleep in. Might I suggest just sweatpants?” you asked, smiling sweetly. 

“Just sweatpants?” he asked, looking for confirmation that he heard what you said correctly. Taking the nod he got in response as confirmation, he grabbed a pair of black sweatpants from his dresser, “I’ll be back in a sec, you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay, but thank you, Bee,” as soon as he left, you got ready for bed. As soon as you laid down, you tried to stay awake to talk to Joel about his games, but sleep soon overtook you. 

When Joel got back, he smiled at seeing you asleep in his bed. After setting down the water bottle he got you, even though you said you didn’t need anything, he got into bed. Turning on his music, he turned towards you and wrapped his arms around you with his chest to your back. 

He quickly moved his arms when he felt you turn, only to smile when you wrapped your arms around him with your face nestled in the crook of his neck, “goodnight, Bee.”

“Goodnight, babe,” seeing as you had already fallen back asleep, he quietly whispered, “I love you.” 

When Joel woke up to an empty bed, he tried to avoid the assumption that you had heard what he said and had left him again. He knew it was bad to think, but that was the first place his mind went.

Getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, he heard music coming from the kitchen. As he walked closer to the kitchen, he heard the familiar soundtrack of High School Musical 3 playing, you singing along as you cracked an egg into the frying pan. 

As you listened to the last part of ‘A Night to Remember’, you didn’t even notice Joel standing in the doorway watching you. You were in your own little world. As you used the spatula as a microphone, you did a turn and you shrieked as you noticed him leaning on the doorway, “god, Bee, what the fuck are you doing just standing there?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your karaoke session,” he stated, pushing off the wall to walk closer to you. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” 

“Don’t be upset, it was adorable.”

“I’m not trying to be adorable,” you scowled, turning back to the eggs that were still cooking. Feeling Joel stand right behind you, holding onto your hips as he dipped his head to kiss your neck, “better watch yourself, Farabee.”

“Babe, I’m just messing with you. Whatcha making?”

“Well, right now I’m making eggs and I was about to start the pancakes,” you said, listening as the song changed to ‘Just Wanna Be With You’, smiling as you heard Joel mumbling the words into the crook of your neck. 

“Babe, c’mon, it’s a duet. So you have to ‘do it’, you know?” he said, taking a step back from you, grabbing onto your waist once more to spin you around to face him, as he started obnoxiously singing the words. 

“Maybe you should stick to hockey, Bee. Singing is not your forte,” you said, laughing. 

“You’re ruining the moment, sweet pea,” he said, spinning you around. You joined him in the singing and dancing, laughing whenever either of you messed up the words. As the last words rang out, his lips met yours, you smiled into the kiss as you heard ‘The Boys Are Back’ start to play. 

“You guys should listen to this in the locker room, I think it’s perfect for game days,” you smiled, double checking the eggs once more. 

“Oh, yeah? I’ll make sure to mention it to them.” 

The two of you ate your breakfast in comfortable silence before getting ready for your PT appointment, you borrowing another one of Joel’s shirts to wear with the leggings you had worn the day before. 

“I want to warn you,” you started as Joel parked the car, “Adrian is kinda a handful. He’s super nice, but he’s, uh. He’s Adrian.”

“Got it, alright,” he said, genuinely unsure of what was about to go down. 

Lacing your hand in his, you led the way to Adrian’s office, walking right in as you saw that his door was open, “ooh, it’s my Olympic Superstar,” he said, quickly glancing behind you, “ooh, and the hockey superstar? Okay.” 

“Hi, Adrian,” you sat down on the bench, Joel sitting in the chair beside you, “ this is Joel Farabee. Bee, this is Adrian Michael.”

“I see why you were super nervous to text him, he’s pretty,” Adrian said, removing your knee brace, “she literally threw the phone right after texting you one day, it was so funny.”

“Adrian, your face is right by my leg, if I kick my leg hard enough, I could easily do some damage.”

“Awe, babe. Don’t be mean. Adrian, what else happened?” Joel said, smirking. 

“Oh, I like him, I approve,” Adrian said, glancing up to see you hiding your face with your hands, “I told her she was a dumbass for not talking to you about how she felt, but I’m assuming she did that since you’re here right now.” 

“Yeah, I agree, she is kinda a dumbass at times,” Joel said, trying not to laugh.

“You’re a dumbass, too, so don’t even,” you said, shooting a glare his way.

“Alright, kids. I can tell you’re the perfect match for each other, but good news is your knee is getting better. I can tell you actually listened to what I told you to do this time around,” he said, grabbing some athletic tape,” I know the two weeks aren’t exactly done, but you only have two days left, so I’m going to wrap up your knee for now. But you can start training, minimal pressure on your legs , no hard landings, no vault or tumbling,  you know the deal. But keep up what you’re doing, you’ll be all set to start training as soon as a week.”

“Wait, really?” you smiled as he nodded in response. 

“But you have to be smart about your training. Stick to mainly conditioning and drills for right now, only do pit landings if you need to work on any dismounts, actually use the athletic tape, and if you feel any pain, you let me know ASAP.”

“Ok, cool,” you smiled, ready to go to the gym now. 

“Knowing you, you’ll be at the gym later tonight, but don’t do anything dumb,” Adrian said, rolling his eyes, “and keep her line, pretty boy.”

“I’ll try my best,” Joel said, smiling. 

“Alright, you should be all set then. Good luck, superstar.”

“Thanks, Adrian,” you said as you walked out the door. 

…..

Joel knew that you wanted to go to the gym to at least do something since you were finally able to, so he took you to your apartment to get your gym bag right after lunch. As soon as you got there, you asked Michelle and Marcus if you would be able to have some time in the back gym - which was essentially the same as the main gym, it just held some of the older, but still safe, equipment. 

Setting your bag down, you decided to start on floor with basic skills, just to get in the groove of doing actual skills again. Stretching first, you made your way to the floor to get started. As you got back into doing some easy skills - with no harsh landings, obviously - you made your way to beam and bars, knowing that vault would be too hard on you right now. 

You were able to work on some of the skills that you had done for years now, there were only a few things that you couldn’t work on that weren’t dismounts or tumbling. You were just happy to be back to where you felt most at home. 

As you did your cool down workout, you had gotten your phone out, scrolling through twitter to see the usual mentions that you would see on the daily. But recently, there were a lot more negative things said, more comparison to your teammates and competitors, and people doubting that you deserved this. 

Joel quickly saw the way your face fell as you looked at your phone, he could only assume that you had seen something that had completely ruined how happy you were. He reached over to grab the phone from your hands, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bee. Don’t worry about it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from his hand. 

“y/n/n, I know something is up, what happened?”

“Just people saying shit, it’s nothing.”

“See, on any regular occasion, it would be nothing. You block whoever, yeah, yeah, yeah. But we’re talking about the Olympics here, babe. Everyone here supports and believes in you, so what you do is, you go out there and you prove to those people that you deserve your spot. The only opinion that matters is yours at the end of the day,” he smiled, “so, are you going to let them get to you? Or are you going to prove them wrong?”

“I mean proving them wrong is probably the better option, you know,” you said, jokingly. 

“Let’s try that answer again. Which one are you going to do?”

“Prove them wrong.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, leaving you stunned for a moment as he helped you get your gym bag together. When he noticed you still standing there, he quickly turned around, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You just said ‘my girl’, I just - I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Did I just make the y/n y/l/n flustered? Awe, and she’s blushing. Oh my god, are you guys seeing this?” he yelled out to the empty gym, “Hm, and there for a minute I didn’t think you felt anything.”

“Shut the fuck up, Farabee,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“And we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming,” he said, mocking an announcer’s voice. 

“You’re an idiot, Bee.”

“I’m your idiot, though,” he said simply, leaving no room for debate. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you smiled, the two of you walking back towards his car with your hands intertwined. 

…..

As the days passed on, since you still had limited practice time, you were able to attend games and team celebrations as the Flyers got closer to the playoffs. Karly even convinced you to sit with her and the other WAGs at a few games. 

“Hm, it’s almost like I told you that you would end up sitting up here with us one day,” Karly said, rolling her eyes. 

“Yes, Karly, you did indeed say that,” you grumbled. 

“Awe, Sunshine, it’s okay to admit that you’re wrong sometimes.”

“I strongly disagree,” the two of you made your way back to your seats, smiling when you saw Joel messing around with Phil during warm up. 

“You are so in love with him, it’s crazy,” Ryanne said as she sat down beside you. 

“What? No- not today. I tolerate him more than I tolerate most people, but I don’t love him,” you rushed out, still in shock from what you had just heard. 

“Just because you don’t say it out loud doesn’t mean it’s not true, you know,” Karly added. 

“Yeah, but- that’s kinda scary,” you sighed, looking out onto the ice as you saw Joel laughing at something Nolan had said. 

“Love is scary sometimes, but with the right person, it’s super easy to do. It happens, but you better not run away from it this time. You both deserve it and you’re both happy, so don’t run,” Ryanne said, holding Gavin on her lap. 

You didn’t say anything in response, simply watching as the game started. This game was the last game that they had before the playoff games, so you could visibly see the tension rolling through the team as the game started. 

By the second period, the game was tied - Joel, Nolan, and Claude having scored . Third period was their make it or break it moment, so everyone in the stands was watching intently as the period started. As the period progressed, both goalies were doing a great job of keeping goals from being scored, meaning that by the end of the third period the score was still tied. 

With no points being made during overtime, a shootout was set to happen. Karly quickly gripped your hand as the two of you watched as Nolan skated onto the ice. “Nolan, c’mon, you got this,” you mumbled mostly to yourself. Watching intently as Nolan started skating towards the goal, watching as he made his way towards the goal, pulling his stick back and hitting the puck. Right into the goal. 

The whole arena erupted in cheers as the boys celebrated, you and the other WAGs smiling as you watched the team that had grown so much this season make more progress towards their main goal. As spectators left the arena, you made your way down to the tunnel to wait on Joel. 

You waited anxiously for Joel to exit, your eyes glued to the door every time you heard it open, “you watching the door isn’t going to make him leave any faster. Trust me, I’ve tried,” Ryanne said, smiling. 

“Yeah, I’m still going to try it though,” you laughed. 

“Figured.” 

You spent some time holding Gavin, trying to get him to sleep, so that Ryanne wouldn’t have to worry about it, “you know, you’re really good with kids.”

“Ah, ah, ah. You already brought up me being in love with Bee earlier, I’m not having this conversation,” you said, looking up to see Ryanne watching behind you. 

“You’re in love with me?” a familiar voice said from behind you, causing you to almost give yourself whiplash as you turned around. 

“Uh, hi, Bee,” the tension in your body immediately dissipated when you saw the smile that was now on his face, “yeah, Bee. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, softly before his lips met yours gently. “I don’t think this day could get any better.” 

“It would be a lot better if you didn’t kiss her in front of me, Beezer,” Kevin’s voice boomed from the other side of the hallway. 

“What was that, Hayesy? It almost sounded like you said something, I don’t know for sure though,” Joel said, wrapping his hand around your waist. 

“I’m proud of you, babe. You did it,” you whispered, leaning into his side. 

“Dude, imagine. ‘Stanley Cup Champion dating Olympic Gymnastics Champion,’ I like the sounds of that.”

“Hate to break it to you, but it would definitely be ‘Olympic Gymnastics Gold Medalist dating Stanley Cup Champion. You know the Olympics are kind of a big deal.”

[kbuggg3]

~S u p e r n a t u r a l~ CasxReader: “Crazy In Love”

IMAGINE: After risking their lives for a mysterious piece of clay, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) get a call that something happened to Cas at the hospital (s7 e21).

“Well, c’mon Meg! Give us more details! Can you at least tell me if he’s ok?... What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam angrily spoke into the phone and (y/n) and Dean exchanged scared looks as they anxiously waited to hear about the news of their best friend. Approximately an hour before all of this stress and anxiety appeared the Winchester brothers and their closest companion (y/n) Singer were hiding out in an old, abandoned jail staring at the block of clay that lay on the dust covered table.

“So what I’m getting from this is… we risked our lives for a lump of clay?” Sam looked at the girl and shrugged with a reply, “There’s gotta be more to it than just that. I mean, the Leviathans were treating it like Dean treats his car!”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Don’t judge me.” Sam just rolled his eyes while (y/n) continued to think aloud. “Maybe there's something inside?” This earned an odd look from Dean and she huffed in frustration. “Wha- Well I don’t know! I’m running out of ideas. That’s all I’ve got goin’ on up here unless one of you can think of something better.” Sam and Dean shared a look then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Dean grabbed a hammer and Sam grabbed 3 pairs of goggles, handing them out to each person. After making sure everyone had their protective eyewear on, Dean brought the hammer up into the air and struck hard on the block of clay. The moment the hammer hit the clay, causing pieces to fly everywhere, a crack of lightning, a quick rumbling of thunder was heard, and the rusty building shook for a second. The three looked at one another without speaking a word and Dean soon continued on again. Once again, he struck the clay with the hammer and thunder rumbled and the building shook. “Um is it just me or is-”

“Ya,” Sam cut in, interrupting (y/n). “That’s not normal.” Dean debated whether or not he should continue. Whatever is in this block of clay was important enough that Leviathans were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. This could be something to end the apocalypse and put a stop to the death of mankind forever. With that, Dean repeated the actions of striking the clay with the hammer despite the loud thunder, bright lightning, and violent shaking of the building.

Eventually everything went quiet and all the clay was completely gone. (y/n) opened her eyes and released her tight grip on Sam’s arm while Dean let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. The three stare down at what used to be a big pile of nothing and what now appeared to be a tablet. The tablet had golden writings or etching in it but neither one of them could make out what it was saying. It looked as if it were written in another language.

Before any of them could say one word, Dean received an urgent call from Meg that something had happened to Castiel back at the hospital and told them to meet her there ASAP. So that's what they did. Dean stuffed the tablet in a duffle bag and they got into the impala and drove off.

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

After they arrive at the hospital and sneak past a few security guards, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) finally make it to the door of Castiel’s hospital room, where Meg stands chewing her finger nails and pacing back and forth. She heard multiple footsteps and looked at the group with a sigh of relief. “It took you long enough. He’s in here.” Meg opened the door and nodded her head, giving them the ‘ok’ to step inside. They walk in and see Cas staring out the window. “Hey, Cas?” The angel slowly turns around, faces them, and replies with a short “Hello, Dean.”

Castiel looks at Sam and smiles softly. “Sam,” he says with a short nod. “Hey, Castiel.” Cas’s eyes move from the tall man to the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. That’s (y/n) Singer. Of course he has met her before. She is the daughter of Bobby Singer and an old friend of the Winchester family. She was there when Cas first connected with Dean and the taller brother and ever since then he has had feelings for her that he, as an angelic and Godly being, couldn’t quite comprehend.

To a regular human being this was a natural thing, but Cas has never experienced anything like what he experiences when he’s around her. When she flashes her perfect pearly white smile at him, he can’t help but stop mid sentence and stare at her and her beautiful eyes. When she accidentally brushes his shoulder as they pass each other or touches his shoulder as she speaks softly to him or takes his hand for comfort, his face turns color and his stomach feels like he just swallowed a bunch of butterflies. And her laugh… oh her laugh… how it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. The way she scrunches up her nose as she projects this beautiful human noise from her perfect lips makes the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a way he isn’t all too familiar with. Cas has no idea what was happening to him. If anything, he thought he was sick. But a regular human being would classify that as love. Cas was in love with (y/n).

Cas struggled to find the right words to say as he approached her and stuttered an awkward, “Hello, (y/n).” The girl fought the urge to throw herself onto him and wrap her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as she embraced him in a big hug. Instead she put a smile on her worried face and spoke to him in the soft, calming tone that he was very fond of. “Cas.” They stared at each other for a while until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to break some of the tension. “Look at you, walking and talking. That’s great right?”

Cas forcefully peeled his eyes away from the goddess before him and looked at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. The angel approached the oldest Winchester with his pointer finger towards him. “Pull my finger.” Dean looked from the outstretched finger to Cas with a very confused look on his face. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My finger,” Cas explained. “Pull it.” Dean stood there awkwardly for a moment before gripping Castiel’s finger. Cas raised his eyebrows at him as he waited for Dean to pull his finger and sure enough he did. The moment Dean did as he was told, all the lights in the room bursted and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. All of the shattered glass fell to the ground and the group stared at Cas in disbelief as he giggled to himself.

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

“So let me get this straight. You said you remember who you are? What are you?”

“Yes of course,” Cas replied. He then gasped and turned around as if he were reminded of something he meant to say a while ago. “Outside today in the garden I followed a honeybee. I saw the welt of flowers. It was all right there! The whole plan! There’s nothing to add.” (y/n) quirked an eyebrow as she watched his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle with excitement like he just got finished riding a roller coaster or running a marathon.

“And he’s been like this for how long?”

“He’s been like that naked guy at the raver ever since he woke up. Totally useless.” Meg replied and the girl just nodded her head in response. “Well, Cas, how are you feeling? Do you feel any different from before?” Cas looked to (y/n) with a look of adoration as he spoke, “Would you just look at her. My caretaker.” The brothers looked to (y/n) with questioning looks as she gave the same look to the clueless angel in front of her. “All of that thorny pain. So beautiful.”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy in love,” Cas said, sighing contently as he continued to stare at her sweetly. Of course (y/n) was flattered by this sudden affection from the angel she’s been crushing on since she first laid eyes on him, but he is obviously not in his normal Cas-like state. For all she knows this could all just be a misunderstanding and when (or if) they get him back to normal he wouldn’t even remember saying those things. After giving out long, awkward hugs and sharing random fun facts about cat penises, Cas revealed how exactly he became like this and that the tablet was The Word of God. “Ok well what does it say?” Cas crossed his arms and stuck out his lip. “No.”

“What the- Cas how old are you? Just read the friggin’ tablet!” Dean yelled frustrated.

“No.”

“Cas I swear on everything sacred if you don’t read this tablet right now so help me i will-”

“ Cas,” (y/n) spoke, cutting Dean off. Cas uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture as his facial features softened.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you please try your hardest to read this tablet? It is very important that we find out what this says. You may even help save the world if you dooo,” (y/n) bribed, singing the last part. When Cas didn’t respond she pushed a little more. “Please, Cas? It would mean the world. Can you do it for me?” She ran a hand down his arm gently as she batted her eyelashes. Cas was sure his knees were going to give out on him any second now. He grabbed her hand off of his arm and clasped it tight with both of his hands, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I would do anything for you (y/n).

Cas held up the tablet and stared blankly at it for a while. Dean began to grow impatient. “Well?” Cas cleared his throat as he began an attempt in interpreting. “Uhhhh tree��” he looked around at everyone for a second. When no one responded and continued to stare at him, obviously expecting more information, he looked back to the tablet and continued. “Horse. Fiddler crab. I can’t read it. It wasn’t meant for angels.”

“Alright,” Meg cuts in. “This all sounds bad. What are you two idiots doing with the word of God? Let me see that thing.” She takes a step towards Castiel but is stopped when Dean tells her to back off. “C’mon Dean. It’s my life on the line too.” Cas froze and stared at the ground uncomfortably with wide eyes. “I said. Back. Off. Meg.”

“Dang it enough of this ‘demons are second class citizens’ crap!” Cas suddenly cut in saying “Don’t like conflict” and teleported out of the room, letting the tablet drop to the ground and break into 3 pieces. “What the h*ll was that?” Meg just scoffed and crossed her arms. “You heard him. He doesn’t like conflict.” She flashed a cocky smile causing Dean’s jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

“You know what? We don’t have time for this crap. (y/n), you deal with the tablet, Sam, you do research on how to read this friggin’ thing, and I’ll go talk to Cas.”

“Actually, Dean.” (y/n) cut in making Dean stop at the doorway and look at her. “Maybe I should go with you to talk to Cas. You and him do have a special bond but I have a strong feeling that the little amount of patience you have isn’t going to be enough at the moment.” Sam and Meg chuckled slightly but Dean ignored them. “Ya I guess you’re right. Alright. You come with me. Sam, will you please pick up the… “Word of God”? And do not let that demon get the tablet.” Sam looked at Meg awkwardly and shrugged and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

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

After finding Cas in the main room sitting quietly at a table, Dean sat in front of him and tried to talk to him while they played a game of “SORRY!”, requested by the lost angel himself. “Alright, Cas, where can we find this ‘Metatron’ guy? Is he even still alive?”

“I-I’m sorry. I believe you have to go back to start.” (y/n) giggled, earning a glare from the oldest Winchester, making her cover it up with a cough. Dean looked at the board game in front of them on the table where Cas was pointing and begrudgingly moved one of his pieces back to start like instructed. He then proceeded in his attempt to reason with the angel. “Cas, this is important.” Cas once again pointed to the board, signalling that it was now Dean’s turn to pick up a card from the stack that was located in the middle of the board.

Dean angrily picked up a card, read it in his head, threw it down, and moved his piece to where the card told him to. “I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. Do you understand?” (y/n) could tell he was growing angry and very impatient with Cas. She quietly stood against the wall, watching anxiously. “We live in a sorry universe.” Cas held up a card that said ‘SORRY’ on it and continued to explain.

“It is engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from your misfortune?” When he spoke he moved pieces around where they belonged and carried on as if he were simply talking about the weather versus the end of the world as we know it. There was no concern or emotion or feeling in his voice as he talked- whereas Dean and (y/n) held on to every word he said as they listened intently. “But these are the rules. I didn’t make them.”

“You made some of them. When you tried to become God. When you cut that hole in the wall.”

“Dean…” The two sat there looking at each other for a while before Cas continued. “It’s your move.” At this Dean slammed his hand on the board game and swiped it off the table forcefully. “Forget the damn game!” Cas looked down at his lap meekly and (y/n) took this as her que to intervene. “Dean! Woah, woah it’s ok. Calm down.” She put a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing up and down making Cas stare. His mood quickly changed from shy to jealous as he watched (y/n) comfort Dean instead of him. Dean shook his head and stormed off leaving (y/n) and Cas alone. (y/n) took the seat Dean had previously been sitting in and looked to Cas with desperate eyes. Cas took notice of this and sat up straight with his hands folded on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

“Let's forget the game for one second. Is that ok with you?” Cas cutely looked to the side for a moment as he thought about the answer then nodded his head. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile at him. Although he wasn’t his true self right now she couldn’t help but notice how helpless and adorable he was being. He looked like a lost puppy. “Is there any way at all that you can help us?” Cas sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry (y/n). I really am.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Castiel.” He noticed her slumped shoulders and sad expression and thought of ways to try and cheer her up.

“M-Maybe when this whole thing is over with I can take you to a park.” (y/n) laughed making Cas’s cheeks heat up. “The park?”

“Ummm yes? Wait, no. I meant to say the strip club. Or was it the bar?”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” she giggled. “Well, quite some time ago Dean told me that if I liked a girl I should take her out somewhere. That and to wear protection, which is why I bring my angel blade everywhere I go,” Cas stated as a matter of factly and (y/n)’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hold back a laugh. “But it appears to me that I’ve forgotten where exactly I’m supposed to take you.”

“Wait a second. You like me?”

“Duh,” Cas chuckled and snorted as if she had told him a funny joke. “(y/n), I have been very fond of you since the day we met. Over the years you’ve made me feel things that I'm sure no angelic being has ever had the opportunity to experience. At first I was scared I was becoming ill with all the odd sensations in my stomach when you’d laugh or the muscle pains in my cheeks from smiling so much when you’d speak to me or even my face getting hot when you’d accidentally touch my shoulder. But after getting some professional advice from Dean I realized that I am truly in love with you.”

(y/n) had no idea what to say. She couldn’t believe that the angel she had fallen for after all these years had confessed to being in love with her. “Well in that case, maybe you’d like to take me to the ‘Bow Tie Bar’ right down the street here sometime.” Cas looked up, surprised that she accepted his invitation and nodded quickly. He was like a kid in a candy store. “Alright then. It’s a date.” A big smile made its way to Cas’s face along with a red tint to his cheeks. “D-Date. Right. Yes.” (y/n) laughed at his nervous stuttering and they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. She then watched as his smile slowly faded and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Um, (y/n)?”

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why exactly does the bar have a bow tie?”

[caprina-mints]

Could we maybe get a scenario where EJ is in heat and doing the dirty with his s/o if that’s fine ówò

So This Became a Oneshot Because I accidentally made it a bit too Long! But I Hope everyone Enjoys This Though! : )

Type : SMUT

Word Count : 4208

E.J's HEAT

As Usual it's like any other Day at the Mansion being part of this bizarre family is really one heck of a ride. You never know what could happen like anything could happen. Anything.

You're fresh meat. You just joined the family two months ago and getting used to everyone and their behavior was a real pain in the ass.

But surprisingly you clicked well with Toby and E.J the two both have a unique and striking personality but the one that intrigued you the most was Jack.

He gives off a cold and mysterious vibe and you just can't help but to have your curious eyes gleaming at him. You two got along well and he told you a little bit of everything when it came to the human anatomy.

He's a bit over protective of you maybe it's because he sees you as a trusted friend? Well during those 2 months You and Him became a little Mushy together and a week earlier he has been acting extremely weird.

Like, He'd growl if another male creep came near you or even talked to you. He's around you all the time and the only place you're actually alone is your bedroom.

He kept tugging and nudging you just to get his attention and whenever you give him any form of physical touch he'd purr and lean onto you .

He's become very clingy and from the looks of it. It wasn't good judging from the looks the creeps were giving you.

They knew something You don't. Today you were sent on a Job which is unusual because you never get sent out alone but you are now.

Fortunately the Job was easier than expected so you went back to the mansion early.

You barely even touched the door and a Body was sent flying out knocking you along with it.

Groaning you sat back to see who it was and it was none other than the resident smile kid, Jeff.

" What the fuck? " You groaned standing up and brushing your clothes off of the remaining dirt.

" Y/n!... You're fucking back!? " Jeff sounded nervous and bothered seeing you and his expression and tone made it so obvious it offended you.

" Yeah? What's wrong with it? You think I'd never come back because of a tiny Job? " You threw a sharp glare his way and he didn't seem to give a reaction to your attempt on intimidating him .

" You gotta go. Now! ASAP! " Jeff tried shoving you back into the forest and you were dragged on the way.

" Hey! Let me go! What gives!? " You grumbled trying to pry his hand away from your wrist.

But your action was cut short when you heard a loud Yell which sounded more like an animalistic Growl come from inside the mansion.

" What the fuck? What's going on Jeff?! " You asked in panic and at the corner of your eye you could see Jeff Visibly Swallow.

It was definitely serious.

" Did you guys summon a Demon or something!? To get revenge on slenderman? " You jumped to your own assumptions because if he isn't giving you an answer you're going to make your own assumptions .

" No why on earth would we do that? Ok I would! But our Demon Boy is Going In Heat which means He's basically A Cageless Feral Beast on the Loose! " Jeff explained as he continued to drag you deeper into the forest but his pace had increasing by every passing second.

" What does it have to do with me!? " You yelled looking back at the doors of the mansion which were now pounding violently.

" Are you Dumb? Isn't it obvious? He's a demon. He's in heat. If Demons are in Heat they look for a Mate to Fuck and You're unfortunate enough to Have E.J see you as a potential Mate " Jeff explained and you were actually quite shocked by his statement... That's the most well executed Explanation you heard him say.

" Wow.. You sounded kinda uh... Less stupid when you said that " You commented which earned a groan of annoyance from the bleached Smile Child.

You two didn't manage to get far when the doors burst open and you could see. A Black figure heading your way at full speed and following behind that figure were Masky, hoodie, Toby, Ben , Helen and Even Puppeteer Seemed to be involved with the chase.

" Run! They couldn't Hold Him much Longer! " Ben yelled coming out from the mansion and Immediately You Bolted off with Jeff at Full speed never looking back.

You were actually terrified ... 1. if you stay You get Fucked By E.J who you have a hidden feeling for which is... Uh.. Kinda Great? But... 2. I heard Demons Eat their Partners After Sex and you definitely don't want to end up dead. It must be a fact because the one who told you about that was a demon... Jack himself.

" Mate! " You heard a rough growl from behind you his voice Echoing through the woods and when you looked back to take a peek boy were you scared shitless.

He was running on all fours his mask off and his teeth razor sharp, his claws extended and looked extra deadly and he has this domineering aura with him that made every cell of your body shout RUN. Behind him were the rest of the Boys Following Behind and even Puppeteer's strings couldn't hold him.

" Shit He's Catching up! " Jeff yelled and you couldn't help but give off a snarky comment.

" Ya Think!? " You snapped , Your feet were getting tired from running because you just got back from a fucking Mission. You didn't expect to be served a full course of Bullshit when you got back.

" Y/n! " Oh Lord the way he growled out your name made your knees weak and you stumbled on a rock but lucky for you Jeff wasn't being a prick and he pulled your weight back up while running .

" Don't Touch Her! " E.J's threatening Snarl was heard from behind and his Voice changed to something more vicious and ruthless.

" Jack! Stop Chasing Us! " You Cried out because your legs couldn't Take it Anymore, You were panting, sweaty and most of all Traumatized.

You once lived as a normal human who knows nothing about Demons and This World of killers. You were just dragged in unexpectedly and you can't take everything in one go! .

" Then Stop Fucking running from me! " You didn't expect him to reply and you felt relief wash over you.

" So you'll stop chasing us if we stop running? You'll Leave us alone? " You asked making sure you and him are on the same page.

You heard a loud audible growl before you heard his answer.

" Yes " It sounded forced judging by his tone and you were skeptical at first but Jeff had other plans and saw right through His.

" Don't listen to Him! I've lived with Him longer and obviously He's Lying! " Jeff stated and his words made the angry demon boy growl at Jeff, as if he was warning Him.

" Jeff. Don't Fucking Test Me! " He barked and that was enough to silence both of us.

" I can't take it anymore. Jeff even though you're an asshole you're gonna have to live on " You panted and Jeff Flashed you a questioning Look. You didn't bother to reply because it's time to face your fears.

You stopped on your tracks as you turned around Closing your eyes expecting the worst .

You felt sharp claws tug on your hips and your back was slammed on a nearby tree.

You heard growling , the type of growl a prey gives to a little bunny... Yeah it was that scary.

You forced your eyes to peek a look and you saw E.J's figure towering over yours baring his sharp teeth and his claws dug deeper on your flesh making you whimper.

" Why'd you run!? Especially with another man! You like others touching you Huh!?" He spat out angrily his face dangerously close to yours. He was using the same tone earlier and it made you weak.

" Why'd you chase us!? Of course it's a common instinct to run if you see something chasing you... Ready to eat you" You murmured the last part but E.J heard it loud and clear.

" I just wanted to be close to You But you ran away... You don't want to be with me that much? " He whimpered almost like a small dog who was abandoned by his owner.

He nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck your sweet smell intoxicating him but he knew he had to control himself.

His claws were no longer as sharp as they were before and you could hear him purring while rubbing himself on your form.

" Guilt Tripping me is a really old move E.J " You chuckled trying to pry him off you but he whined holding onto you even tighter.

Oh what the hell I'm going with it.

You placed your hand gently on his head petting his locks of brown hair, he started purring and leaned on your touch his hands going lower but the two of you were interrupted.

" Y/n! Get away from Him! " You heard the familiar voice of Jeff and this time Masky, hoodie and the rest were here.

You didn't get to react because Jack pulled you in his arms growling at the other males. Baring his teeth and almost hissing at them Jack took a few steps back with you.

" Stick your noses to your own fucking business! "

" Jack! She may be a potential mate but we can't have you fucking someone in the mansion just because of your heat. You may not even feel anything for-"

" She is MY mate, she is Mine to Keep and Mine to Love. I don't need your opinion to tell me what to Do! She'll be mine forever and I'll stay true to my words now fuck off! " Jack Snarled glaring at everyone else . The boys seemed to be communicating in a telepathic way because they just exchanged a few looks to one another before finally leaving.

" Y/n...last call if you don't want to just say so we'll help you" Hoodie called out and when you gave the slightest reaction to his question Jack Started whining and whimpering almost like he was physically hurt.

" Uh... I'll be Fine " You answered and Hoodie nodded walking off.

" So- Ah! " You squealed when you were thrown over his shoulder.

" Jack! Wait where are we going? " You asked when he started walking the opposite direction of where hoodie and the rest were heading.

".... I have a cottage around here whenever I'm having my heat... " He answered in a hushed tone .

You looked back at his features and you noticed how he kept realising puffs of breaths, His Face was oddly a different shade that usual and his hands were really fidgety.

" Jack if I'm heavy you can put me dow-"

" And let you run away again? you're not doing that you little Brat. Running away like that with another man. Oh you like teasing me don't you? " His tone was deep and taunting and you could feel his hand crawling its way up your ass.

You felt him squeeze your butt cheek making you gasp and groan when he smacked your ass.

" Jack stop! " You grumbled bit he didn't take that lightly.

" Oh? Resisting me too? " His hand trailed lower down to your pussy rubbing your pussy through the thin fabric of your leggings.

You bit back a moan closing your eyes , he didn't like it and started rubbing you at a rougher pace.

He didn't stop while maneuvering his way through the thick forest and by the time you two arrived at a small cottage you were soaked.

You survived that part by swallowing your voice and it seemed to have thrilled him even more taking it as a challenge.

Opening the door he closed it using his feet and immediately threw you on the couch were he towered over you glaring down at your form.

" Holding back your moans I see? You'll be screaming before you know it " He muttered his large hands gripping onto the fabric of your shirt and with ease he tore your shirt to shreds leaving you in your bra and the only piece of clothing you had now were your leggings.

Your heartbeat began to increase as you scooted away from him . He noticed that and grabbed your foot pulling you over in between his legs both of your legs spread and set on each of his sides and you could clearly feel his hardened cock from your position.

" Oops to Late to run away Now" He grinned using his claws to tear the fabric of your bra and before you knew it he attacked your lips in a hungry Kiss his hands groping your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples making you moan in the kiss.

He bit down on your lower lip just enough to tear the skin drawing out a small amount of blood before continuing down to your neck and collar bone his sharp teeth pricking your skin feeling him suck, kiss and nip your neck, your shoulder and collarbone.

You tried pushing him off but he had your hands under his grisly grip before licking and taking your cold buds in his warm mouth his tongue playing and swirling around your breast giving a subtle bite before sucking on your breast each Mounds having the same amount of attention and pleasure.

You arched your back moaning slowly giving into the pleasure he released your hands before shoving two of his fingers inside your mouth . You got the hint and welcomed his fingers inside your mouth sucking and coating his fingers with your saliva while continuing his unfinished worked with your breast.

After awhile he pulled his fingers away and faster than you could say 'I' your leggings along with your soaked panties were ripped and thrown to the floor gasping when the cold air hit your glistening pussy and the very same fingers you sucked on earlier came rubbing on your clit earning a loud shaky moan to tear away from your throat.

He looked so smug seeing how wet you were and he didn't waste another second and placed both of your legs on his shoulders his face dangerously close to your heated flower .

" J-jack Wa- Ahh~" You couldn't stop him when his long Black tongue came lapping on your juices.

His tongue draped over your pussy in a slow and agonizing way making you whine and glare up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

He chuckled at your needy state before his teeth came in contact with your inner thighs biting down on your flesh making you flinch and squeak.

He left a noticeable bite mark on your inner thighs before his teeth grazed on your other thigh doing the same thing while your slick covered pussy was needy for his attention.

" Jack please " You whined biting your bottom lip and hearing you plead for him to give you more aroused him further.

His tongue sneakily slid past your folds and into your squelching pussy , your moans shaky and desperate your hands flailed around to find something to hold on and subconsciously you held onto his brown messy locks raking your fingers through his hair as his tongue went in and out of your fleshy walls and your walls wet and needy welcomed him desperately sucking his tongue in.

You could feel him so deep inside of you it made you squirm and cry out his name in pleasure.

How long is his tongue!?.

Your hips bucked and rocked while he ate you out his tongue playing freely inside you but that was when another tongue rolled out of his mouth and another one.

" Oh shit Jack! " You screamed when he inserted another one while the shorter one lapped on your clit and teased your folds.

Your core lit up when both of his tongues came wiggling inside your walls only making your walls clench tightly around his tongues and when a bubbly and hot sensation built up inside you and was ready to release he pulled back his chin and mouth covered by your juices and slowly dropped down on his chest. He stared at you with a lascivious grin when you grumbles and whine for him to finish what he started.

" You were resisting and running away from me earlier... Look at you now... So wet and Needy for me... What do you want mate? " He purred as he pulled down his pants along with his boxers revealing his thick veiny cock which was bigger than you expected.

How's that supposed to fit?

As if he read your expression he gave you an answer.

" Oh it's gonna fit. I'll make sure you're taking every inch of me for making me go through all that trouble chasing you around like a mad Dog" He growled his figure growing bigger , his ears began to grow longer as well as his claws . Now you know that this is the demon Jack had been hiding.

" Answer me! " He spat at you his hand snaking to your throat slightly choking you and damn hell it sure did turn you on.

" Your Cock... Fuck me till I can't walk anymore " You choked out and that was enough for him to ram his whole length in not even going gentle at first. He didn't give you time to adjust because technically this isn't Jack anymore. He slid inside easily because of how wet you were to begin with .

" Oh- Shit Jack! " You couldn't even finish your sentence because you were choked up in your own moans.

He was going so fast, You felt his Knot and the very shape of his Cock mold inside your pussy. He hit the deepest part of you with every fast and rough thrust.

His speed was in human and it felt so good you almost forgot how to breathe being choked up and at the same time being a moaning mess from his roughness.

You heard his gruff groans and pants not even holding back a loud snarl he placed both of his hand right next to your head trying to steady himself as he pounded is inside you mercilessly and everytime he pumped himself in, your walls would gladly squeeze the life out of him.

An animalistic growl escaped his lips as he gritted his teeth, his claws digging and ripping into the cushion of the furniture and you heard something crack. Was it the couch or the wooden floor.

Tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes holding onto his neck for dear life your legs tightly wrapped around his torso , you couldn't keep up with how rough he is you began to feel dizzy.

Every time he snapped his back and rammed himself in he could reach the deepest depths he could .

Your toes curled arching your back while moaning in pleasure as you reached your high releasing your juices all over his cock. Your walls dangerously clenching his cock which led him to bite down on your shoulder finally releasing his thick seeds deep inside of you.

Panting while staying on that position he pulled himself out of your cum filled pussy that leaked out his seeds.

He sat back on the couch panting before his hand came down on his cock jerking himself while staring at you.

It didn't take him 5 seconds and he was already rock hard.

Oh wow.

He yanked you by your arm and you sunk down on your knees infront of him with his cock standing hard with all its glory.

This time he guided your hand on his shaft letting you stroke him.

Did he really think you're that innocent? Hah. Just watch.

At first your movements were shy and timid and you stuck your tongue out a little to give his tip a few kitten licks.

Looking down at you he saw such an adorable expression in your face. He didn't expect you to directly take his whole cock in your mouth in one go unexpectedly.

He was completely caught of guard his clawed hand pulled on your hair and a loud breathy moan was forced out of his throat staring at you with wide eyes.

" Fuck " He groaned out when you started bobbing your head up and down while occasionally pulling away with a pop before trailing your tongue from his base up to his tip.

The sight of you was really something he'd kill to see. Kneeling right there with an Innocent face while taking his cock like that. Shit he found it extremely hard to control himself around you.

It didn't help when you took him whole once again your hands going down to massage his balls while increasing your speed.

You were so pretty and so good with your tongue. He just had to have you right now and that's exactly what he did.

He stood up shoving your head down on the couch befire you felt him his cock enter you again .

Gasping in surprise you felt his clawed had dig into the skin of your hips and your pussy took him in so tight and so well it made the both of you moan in sync.

Shit how the fuck are you still this tight after he literally wrecked you earlier? .

He didn't much for awhile and it irritated you. You wanted him to fuck you already. You raised your hips but his grip on your flesh made it hard to do so.

" Fucking Move! " You groaned clutching onto the cushion of the couch.

" I'm fucking working on it you impatient little Mate" He pulled back only to push himself back in again.

It made you moan and shudder your knees shaking and your hands trembling as you held onto the seat of the couch when he started ramming himself in again and again .

Your pussy swallowing his cock deep inside you every time he did so. You sucked him inside your walls so well he was so close to releasing again.

You cried out and loud pants and mewls filled the room because you were still so fucking sensitive and you were still being fucked by him at such an animalistic way.

You felt his weight in your hips and he started going even faster. You were practically drooling while moaning out his name.

Your mind felt so mushy and you were slowly seeing stars.

You started moving your hips to meet his thrusts and every time you did he kept hitting that one spot that could make you scream .

You cursed under your breath and felt your walls hugging his cock even tighter. He looked down on you seeing you at such a vulnerable state under his mercy was really something. A growl rumbling at the back of his throat. You were squeezing onto his cock like you were ready to milk him dry.

His thrusts became shallow but soon he sped up almost immediately catching his breath while you made a lot more sinful sounds underneath him.

After a few more thrusts the two of you came at the same time your cum mixed with his and you could feel it leaking out of your hole because of how much was inside. Panting while trying to keep yourself from fainting he stayed at that position for awhile before leaning down to trail soft kisses on your bare back.

" ... after my heat you are obligated to Date me. If you say otherwise... I have my ways to get you around-"

" Oh my God Jack I love you too ok? No need to go that far " You grumbled and from you position you heard his chuckle and another kiss was planted on your back.

" I'm glad you do Y/n "

" Oh and... You're not gonna eat me right? " You asked cautiously and he was quiet for a few seconds before he burst out laughing.

" You seriously believed what I said? I was just Joking Little Mate "

" Tsk... Fuck you Jack "

" Oh I see that you're ready for another round"

By the Time you two were finally done you were cum soaked and sticky, the two of you hopped in the shower but it led to something more again.

[gumnut-logic]

Always There

This was an attempt at some Scott and Virgil for the Earth and Sky challenge. There was a prompt and then another prompt, but the result resembles neither of them and kinda went and did its own thing. So um, Scott and Virg fic ::shrugs:: I give up.

Thank you to both @scribbles97​ and @tsarinatorment​ for both bolstering my confidence when I was swearing at this one and for keeping me in line :D You guys make me better ::hugs you lots::

I hope you enjoy whatever this ended up being.

-o-o-o-

He was there.

Always there.

There had never been a time he didn’t expect it, yet he had never taken it for granted. His brother was just there. Usually somewhere in the background.

Quietly watching.

Thinking.

He didn’t have to say anything. Scott could tell by the cant of an eyebrow, the settling of a hip or the shift of his shoulders. It was subtle, but Virgil broadcast his thoughts on a frequency Scott was tuned to and indicated his opinion.

Scott valued that. Ever so much. He lauded his brother’s capability and trusted him more than he did himself.

So, when Virgil stiffened at the sight of the man who walked into the office, Scott definitely took notice.

Virgil wasn’t even meant to be there. He had simply accompanied Scott into the office in London as a prelude to the main reason why they were in town. Gordon had already gone ahead to Penelope’s along with Alan and Grandma. John was due down in the afternoon. Virgil had come with Scott to the office just to keep him company.

And now he was wired tighter than one of his piano strings.

Scott eyed him a moment before standing up and walking around the desk. He held out his hand in greeting. “Mr Yost, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Scott Tracy, well I never. May I call you Scott? Call me Hows. It is great to finally meet you.”

Scott’s hand was gripped with both of the other man’s and far too tight.

Exuberance abounded.

Virgil stood up slowly and buttoned the jacket of his charcoal grey suit.

There was nothing aggressive about the movement, but it set alarm bells ringing in Scott’s head. He straightened and gestured in Virgil’s direction. “This is my brother, Virgil.”

Virgil had been sitting beside the desk, thumbing through his phone a moment ago, waiting for Scott to finish signing the pile of papers his secretary had dumped on him when he walked through the door. So there was no obstruction to walk around to meet the out thrust hand of their guest.

But Virgil didn’t move and ignored the offered hand. He only dipped his head. “Mr Yost.”

“Er, uh, yes, nice to meet you.” The man fumbled and wiped his hand against the white of his suit pants.

Scott blinked and wracked his brain for a reason why Virgil was so hostile. What had he missed?

Yost frowned up at him.

Scott cleared his throat. “Well, Mr Y…Hows. What can we do for you?”

“Oh! Yes, I heard you were in town and rushed over immediately. I would have sent my proposal electronically, but since you were here, I just knew you would want to see me in person.” The man was positively babbling.

Scott was seriously reconsidering his decision to let the man in.

Yost must have picked up on Scott’s thoughts because his expression changed to one more of panic. “Right, yes, my proposal. How would you like to be the owner of the tallest building in the world?”

Something made Scott look at Virgil at that very moment. The sudden fire in his brother’s eyes was startling.

Apparently, they didn’t want to be owners of the tallest building in the world.

Back to their guest… “Uh, no, I don’t think we are interested, Mr Yost.”

The man frowned. “But you haven’t seen my proposal yet. It’s called Tracy Tower, after your father and shaped perfectly like a rocket.”

Virgil took a step forward and Scott stepped between the two men. “No, I’m sorry, Mr Yost. Thank you for thinking of us, but we are not interested in building anything right now.” He began to shoo the man out.

“But, but, but, you were calling for proposals!”

“Sorry, my mistake.” He held open the door and gestured to his assistant. “Carly, could you please show Mr Yost out. Thank you.” Scott smiled politely to the flabbergasted man as his EA ushered him out.

Scott shut the door quietly behind him.

Virgil grunted and sat back down. “Thank you.”

“Speak to me, Virg.”

“Two words. ‘Crystal Spire’.”

Scott blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m not.” Virg was fiddling with his phone again.

“I thought that guy had his…everything revoked.”

“So did I.” Virgil put his phone to his ear. “Penny? Yes, we will be there shortly. I have a quick one for you.” A pause. “Yost just tried to sell Scott a development proposal.” There was a sharp sound from the phone. “Uh huh. Thank you, Penny.” Virgil smiled. “Tell Gordon he can wait. We will be there shortly.” A grin. “See you soon.” And he hung up. Virgil looked up at his brother. “Whatever he has, he will no longer have within the hour.”

“You really don’t like this guy, do you?”

“He burnt my ‘bird while Alan was in it.”

Cold washed over Scott. “That one.”

“Yes, that one.” Virgil grumbled and went back to playing with his phone, conversation obviously ended.

Scott walked back behind the desk and took his own seat, determined to plough through the last of the reports he had to sign. It wouldn’t hurt to get over to Penny’s asap.

To check on his littlest brother for no reason whatsoever.

Virgil was a quiet presence beside him. It felt right.

Because he was always there.

Where Scott needed him to be.

-o-o-o-

[lovelylogans]

spring cleaning

there’s a pack rat in the family. who it is will not surprise you.

part of the wyliwf verse.

warnings: food mentions, alcohol mentions, general messiness, jokes about hoarding

pairings: patton/virgil, offscreen logan/roman

word count: 2,412

notes: hi! this is just a quick little fic as i beta and finish off the next chapter of debutante. this is based off the gilmore girls season three episode twelve “lorelai out of water” cold open. takes place the spring after the main storyline, after alliance but before debutante.

⁂

virgil’s phone buzzes at 10:13 am on a sunny spring sunday. he pauses just after he drops off the brunch plates for mrs. torres, babette, and east side tilly, digging around in his back pocket to squint at his recent texts.

logan sanders: Please help.

any other time, this kind of text would probably send anxiety flooding his veins like ice water. as he’s been warned, sure, he’s a little anxious that he’s misreading the situation, but he shakes that aside and snorts.

“called it,” he mutters under his breath, before he wipes his hands on his apron and types out christ, you’re folding easy this year. is that a new record?

a brief pause. then, No, the record was twenty-four minutes. To be fair, that took place when I was ten years old, we were moving into the house, and you were already going to be involved, so I perhaps I should propose that does not count against my spring cleaning record.

ah, that’s right. god, helping patton move had kind of been a nightmare. helping anyone move is a bit of a nightmare, but with patton there’s a whole new layer of shenanigans.

Another buzz. Also, I need this to be hastened along. I have a Socratic seminar in English tomorrow, and though we have settled on a tentative truce I refuse to let Dee achieve the highest grade in the class.

he shoots back i’ll be there asap.

“jean,” he calls to the counter, but jean, having been warned as well, waves him off.

“i got it, at least he waited till the we hit the between-masses lull.”

“you’re the best,” he says, hanging up his apron and ignoring mrs. torres’ hoots about his arms—he's like ninety percent sure she’s spiking her own orange juice so she can have a screwdriver with her pancakes but he hasn’t caught her with a flask in hand yet—and heads out the door.

the citizens of sideshire are fully soaking in the pleasure of a sunny spring day—it’s one of those days, where the weather’s warming up slowly, but there’s sure to be more cold snaps before they fully settle into spring, so lots of people are taking advantage of it. families are sprawled with picnic blankets in the grassy town square. the “long-haired freak” (taylor’s nickname, not his. virgil’s pretty sure his name is dave, but also, he’s not totally sure his name is dave, and as such usually avoids any complications by saying “hey, man,” whenever virgil sees him) is out hawking fruits and vegetables from his garden. lots of people are out on walks, some with earbuds or headphones on, some calling out jolly greetings to other people taking advantage of a blue sky and temperatures that are soaring above freezing.

“hey, virgil.”

“hey, felix,” virgil says, craning his neck to catch sight of—well, he guesses felix and riley are technically his tenants? but that always feels weird to say—his neighboring business owners. felix is busy making sure a promotional poster’s taped to the window. “how’re things?”

“ah, y’know, y’know,” felix says, waving their hands around. “weather’s warming up, so we’re getting into busy season. guess people want to be able to flaunt new ink in the warmer weather, y’know?”

“hey, speaking of—” virgil says.

“oh, yeah,” felix says, scratching at the half of their head that was once shaved bald but is now growing in stubbly. “you wanna have riley do one this time? they can draw up some sketches for you, if you want. or i can, if you want, but it might be a minute ‘cause i’m all hands on deck for this massive full-back piece.”

“nah, riley’ll be cool, it’s been a minute since they’ve done one for me,” virgil says. “i’ll drop by later with some reference photos, ideas and stuff.”

“i’ll make sure they’re refreshed on what your style is before the consultation,” felix says. “appreciate the business.”

“appreciate you and your spouse taking over this empty shop so taylor didn’t get a chance to,” virgil returns, as he usually does whenever felix or their riley thanks him for something. he’s really awkward about accepting gratitude, he’s working on that with emile and patton.

“god, could you imagine taylor next door,” felix says with a theatric shudder. “bad enough he runs half the town.”

“i’ll call tomorrow to make the appointment?”

felix flashes him a thumbs up, and virgil raises a hand in farewell as he continues on his way.

he ends up pushing his sleeves up to his elbows as he walks to the sanders’ house, occasionally saying hey to other residents of sideshire, or tilting his face up to the sun. 

this winter’s been brutal, even worse than it usually is for the northeast, with absurd amounts of blizzards and ice. on the days where it wasn’t shoveling ridiculous amounts of snow on the whole town, the sky had been gray and overcast, and what little sun there was could barely stream weakly through the clouds. 

but now, the sun sinks softly into his exposed skin, warming him without overheating him thanks to the breeze, carrying the sweet scent of tentatively blooming flowers planted by particularly audacious gardeners.

it is a perfect, lovely spring day. 

by the time he gets to the cheerful yellow clapboard house, he’s taken enough deep, calming breaths to ensure that he is a calming presence. he ascends the stairs of the wraparound porch—oh, huh, looks like patton or logan’s making an attempt at being a gardener, that looks like mountain mint—and knocks lightly on the front door.

“please come in,” logan shouts, sounding exasperated, and virgil obligingly pushes the door open.

he toes off his shoes, even as he overhears patton’s voice, cajoling.

“hug-a-world! c’mon, you’ve gotta remember your hug-a-world!”

hug-a-world, virgil mouths to himself, before it comes back to him in sudden, vivid technicolor and he rounds the corner.

and, sure enough, surrounded by the detritus of the sanders home, patton and logan sit in a hastily-cleared space in the middle of their living room, patton holding a stuffed ball tight to his chest.

“of course i remember the hug-a-world,” logan says, still with that tone of exasperation, but lessened now at the sight of a beloved childhood toy. 

“you can’t make me throw away your hug-a-world,” patton declares viciously, which would almost be believably threatening if he were not clutching a stuffed ball made to look like a globe to his chest, and if his curly hair was not sticking up in a configuration that virgil thinks of as chaotically unruly, and if he were not wearing a pink-and-blue sweater he usually busts out around easter, and if someone did not know patton as a person. “you learned all seven of your continents on hug-a-world!”

see, without fail, almost every year patton gets suckered into the whole concept of the spring clean. and, without fail, logan or virgil will try to point out that he does this every year, and patton insists no, really, this time for sure he’ll get rid of some of the clutter around this house, it’s about time!, and then he gets sidetracked getting attached to objects he finds that he suddenly cannot bear to get rid of, despite the fact that said objects have typically been buried away in a dark closet all the rest of the year.

which means that logan and virgil sit with him and try to point that out, and patton wavers, before he decides to keep or donate or trash it, and it seems like it’s going okay, until the next thing he touches turns out to be another thing that he suddenly cannot bear to give up.

it’s gotten a little better since that time they introduced the marie kondo method, but also, that much worse, because of course he insists that everything sparks joy! 

but this is way more mess than usual. there are cardboard boxes and piles of clothes and bits and bobs that are in piles that come up to his ribs. virgil squints it at it suspiciously.

“attic,” logan says wearily, in explanation. “he got boxes out of the attic.”

oh, shit, the attic. god, that thing is stuffed to the brim with boxes, no wonder the living room looks like someone upended the odds-and-ends drawer for a giant into the house.

“but—c’mon,” patton says, in that same sweetly coaxing tone that usually makes them all throw up their hands and leave the rest of this spring cleaning mess for next year’s spring clean. he holds out the hug-a-world to logan. “hold it. marie says so.”

“marie does not realize that she has a special case with my hoarder of a father and therefore should customize the approach of sparks joy, because you have too wide a definition,” logan says, but he reaches out and takes the hug-a-world with both hands anyways.

virgil examines logan holding it, thinking suddenly of a much tinier logan with a gap in his front teeth holding the same toy in the same way, though the fabric had been much more vibrant shades of blue and green then. there had been a solid stretch of time that the hug-a-world had been the toy that logan had hugged falling asleep, back in the poolhouse. he’d taken the hug-a-world to the diner and to school and all around the inn and to the princes’ apartment and back again.

a side of logan’s mouth twitches up, and then, as if suddenly conscious of it, he forces the corners of his mouth to turn down as he stares at it.

“remember?” patton repeats, staring at logan and the hug-a-world fondly. “we used to take turns to squeeze it as tight as we could and then wherever our pinkies would end up, that’s where we were going to go together when you grew up.”

“yes,” logan says, and then loses the fight against his mouth, because it twitches up into a smile again. “many a trip to uzbekistan was planned that way.”

“look!” patton says, pointing and tilting his head. “that’s canada, then, where’d your other one get you?”

logan moves his other pinky in order to squint at the faded fabric. “i believe that’s cambodia. possibly vietnam, i was rather splitting the border.” 

“why not both?” patton says pragmatically, or as pragmatically as he can sound planning a potential trip based off hugging a ball. 

logan hesitates, holding the ball.

“look,” patton says. “hey, how about virgil helps clean it up, and the hug-a-world can live in your room?”

logan chews at the inside of his lip.

“if it sparks joy,” patton sing-songs.

logan heaves a sigh.

“the hug-a-world will live in my room, then,” he says, before looking to virgil. “we’ve started a pile for you right here,” and pats a pile of what mostly looks like clothes that can be either repaired, repurposed, or sneakily donated.

virgil takes a breath, and says, “i’ll crack open a window and put on some music, then. patton, you take your allergy medicine today?”

patton tilts his head to think about it.

“that’s a no,” virgil says. “i’ll grab it on the way. water, snacks? we’re gonna be here for a while.”

“are we?” logan says doubtfully, twisting to look at him.

“we are finishing spring clean this year!” patton insists. “i mean it this time!”

logan arches his eyebrows at virgil, and virgil mouths play along, and logan sighs before he turns back to the pile, pulling out an old jacket at random.

“i have never seen you wear this. it should be donated.”

“that was from raf, we can’t just toss it!” patton cries out in dismay, and virgil heads for the kitchen.

he fills up three glasses of water, chops up some celery and apples, fills up three mini ramekins with peanut butter, and sets it all on a tray, along with the round white pill that patton takes for his allergies. 

he plugs in his phone and scrolls to a roman-made playlist, lowering the volume so that they’ll be able to hear each other, and proceeds to make his meandering way around the piles of Stuff as best he can without knocking anything over.

on his way, he moves to crack open the windows of the living room, allowing the floral-scented air to waft into the messy room, to hear the chirping of the birds under patton and logan’s debating.

he pushes aside a pile of old books on the coffee table and sets the tray down, mostly ignored as logan manages to triumph and tosses the jacket into a box labeled DONATE.

virgil settles down next to his pile, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce, and gosh all of the clutter of patton and logan’s lives looms over them like a mountain at this angle. 

“okay,” virgil says encouragingly. “good, that’s good! raf’s old jacket will probably make some other teenager very happy to have it.”

patton sighs, staring after the jacket. “yeah, i guess.”

“this is good,” virgil says stubbornly, before tugging at a piece of fabric sticking out at random and unearthing a blanket.

“oh, i was wondering where that got off to!” patton says, delighted. 

“i thought that got lost in the moving shuffle,” virgil agrees, because the last time he saw this he was pretty sure it was tossed over the back of their rented apartment couch.

“so this blanket has not been washed in at least six years,” logan says.

“well, that can be fixed!” patton points out. “i say keep.”

“we’re never going to finish,” logan groans.

“of course we’re gonna finish!” patton says.

“yeah, logan,” virgil says unconvincingly. “listen to your dad.” 

patton beams at him, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek; logan rolls his eyes, before he turns his attention to the blanket.

“so, you claim keep for your room,” logan says. “you already have so many blankets.”

“well, we can always use more blankets!” patton points out. “worse comes to worse, we’ll put it in the linen closet.”

logan tilts his head, before he sighs, and places it in a pile of other fabrics that they seem to have decided to keep.

“all right, fine,” he says, then fishes out another piece of fabric. “next item—”

“look how fast we settled that!” patton says brightly.

“pretty fast,” virgil agrees dutifully.

“we’ll totally finish spring clean this year,” patton says confidently.

(they do not finish spring clean this year.)

[janeykath318]

The Gardener Next Door

Darcy felt like she’d finally made it: finished her PhD and found a great job that allowed her to upgrade from her tiny apartment to her very own house in the suburbs. It needed a little work, but it had charm and personality and Darcy took several months making it her own. The neighborhood she lives in was mostly elderly people or young newlywed couples and the people were generally very friendly. Sweet Mrs. Messer brought her over baked goods regularly and shared the local gossip while Old Mrs. Richards brought her puppy over for regular visits. Before she’d lived there six months, she knew almost everyone on the block except for her next door neighbor on the left, who didn’t appear to be the sociable type.

Even Mrs. Messer hadn’t been able to find out much information, other than his name was something Grant and he liked to garden and preferred to be left alone.

“He must be one of those grumpy old hermit types,” Mrs. Messer sighed. “Never answered the door when I went to bring him a welcome to the neighborhood pie. I wonder what happened to the poor man to make him so wary of people.”

“I don’t know, but maybe you could try leaving some on his front porch with a friendly note. Once he’s discovered the glory of your chocolate chip cookies, he might just loosen up a little.” Darcy suggested.

This cheered up Mrs. Messer and she scurried off to start baking.

Mysterious Neighbor Dude clearly preferred a motorcycle as his form of transportation, but he always pulled right into the garage, so she was never able to get a glimpse of him without his helmet.

As spring went on, Darcy started spending more time outside in her cozy lounge chair, from which she started noticing her neighbor working outdoors. Even from the distance she could see by the way he moved, he was still in the prime of life and he appeared to be a workout fiend, judging by the size of his shoulders and arms.

He wore a big floppy straw hat that kept the sun off, which was probably a good thing because he was working in his garden almost nonstop on sunny days. It was kind of fascinating watching the progression from bare dirt to tiny plants. So far, their only interaction was a friendly wave when he caught her staring and Darcy was dying for more, but he’d never approached her and she didn’t want to invade his privacy.

But then she came home one day to find a big basket of lettuce and radishes on her front porch.

There was a note with them:

“Sharing some lettuce with you. It makes delicious salads. Have a nice day!”

The note was not signed and Darcy squinted at it for quite awhile like it would suddenly start talking and reveal its author, but alas, no such luck.

The lettuce did make excellent salads and she thought about her hunky neighbor with every bite.

Mrs. Messer came over very excitedly to report that the cookies had been taken and she too had been given a basket of lettuce.

“Looks like you were right, Darcy. The man just needed a little kindness. I wonder if he likes lemon bars…..”

As the weeks went by, the gifts of veggies continued, varying as different things came into season. Peppers, carrots, tomatoes, and green beans all arrived steadily and were either quickly eaten or given to Darcy’s vegetarian co-worker.

Darcy started replying to his notes on the fifth basket and soon they had a funny banter going back and forth, filled with vegetable puns.

“Lettuce be friends?” She wrote on the note left in the empty basket which had previously held plump red tomatoes and would be supplying her with BLTs for a long time.

“Yes, peas!” he’d replied on the next basket, which did contain the mentioned vegetable.

“Why are you so cute and unreachable?” Darcy murmured to herself, stashing the note away with a smile.

She laid out sunbathing in her favorite bathing suit the next day and since there was no fence between their backyards, the hot neighbor dude got a nice view. This time it was Darcy who caught him staring and waved happily, pretty sure he was blushing. Ugh. He was just too adorable. She wanted to March over there and plant one on him, pun slightly intended. He briefly took off his hat to wipe sweat off of his face and she caught a glimpse of dark hair and beard. Dang it, that was a GOOD look!!

The notes and vegetable puns continued, but now they were accompanied by cute sketches of cartoon vegetables representing the various neighbors. Darcy absolutely loved it and it proved her suspicions that the so-called hermit was much more observant than he seemed.

“So you’re an artist as well as a champion gardener? Is there anything you can’t do?” She wrote on the next note.

“Plenty,” he replied back. “I sure can’t bake and I can’t seem to be able to remember how to speak when my pretty neighbor is around.”

Darcy was floored, but thrilled, and wrote and rewrote seven replies before she finally figured out how to word her response.

“Here I was thinking you didn’t want to talk to me. Guess we’re both disasters at communicating.”

The response to this rang Darcy’s doorbell the very next evening and she opened it to see her neighbor, up close and personal, looking all kinds of shy and adorable and holding out a bouquet of gorgeous flowers that she knew came from his yard.

“Aww, how sweet!” She exclaimed, accepting the flowers eagerly. “They’re beautiful. Nice to finally meet you……….”

Her voice trailed off as she recognized the gorgeous and famous face in front of her.

“Steve,” he finished quietly, almost apologetically. “I’m sorry for the secrecy. I’ve been hiding out living the retired life and trying my hand at new hobbies.”

He looked even more nervous now, probably thinking she was going to either throw him out or go yelling to the neighbors.

“Please, come in,” she told him, heart pounding. “I’m Darcy Lewis, astrophysicist and former Avengers wrangler. I did NOT recognize you from across the yard with the dye job. It’s a good look, though. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” Steve sighed, relaxing a touch. “I think I remember seeing you yelling at Tony a few times. It was pretty neat, the way you made him cower.”

“I learned early on, Tony needed a firm hand or he would never eat or sleep and bad things happened,” Darcy recalled, with a pang of sadness. “You guys saved the world,” she added. “I think you’ve more than earned your privacy and a peaceful retirement.”

Steve cracked a crooked smile. “That’s very gracious of you. Some days, it’s a pretty big struggle for me to believe that, thinking about everyone we lost. Gardening’s been keeping me sane.”

“And you’re doing a fabulous job with it. I’ve never had such perfect tomatoes,” Darcy told him with a smile.

“I was pretty proud of them,” Steve admitted, then he grew serious again and looked at her very earnestly with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Darcy, do you still want to…”

“Yes,” Darcy interrupted. “Heck yes. I like you, Steve. I didn’t really know you apart from Captain America before and I’m finding regular Steve to be more irresistible than Mrs. Messer’s lemon bars.”

Steve chuckled and started to turn pink, which was even cuter seen close up.

“Given how amazing those are, that’s high praise,” he remarked, with a twinkle in his eye. “Looks like I’ve got a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.”

They shared another long look and Steve moved into her personal space with intent-to-kiss written all over his face.

Darcy was very much down for that and nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around him. The pent up feelings resulted in a pretty intense kiss, which left her weak in the knees and practically hanging onto Steve for dear life.

“Well that was worth it,” she whispered, when she’d caught her breath. “I’m so glad you didn’t actually go to the moon. There’s been rumors.”

Steve full on laughed at that, a joyous sight which she’d never witnessed before, but was very glad to finally see. His eyes crinkled, his face lit up and he looked so adorably cute, her heart turned into a puddle of goo.

“Don’t know where they came up with that one,” he remarked, shaking his head in amusement. “But I have no intentions of going to the moon. I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Good, because I need some more of those green beans, ASAP,” Darcy replied mischievously, barely refraining from making an eggplant joke. She didn’t want to be TOO forward.

“How about you come over and I can give you the grand tour?” Steve suggested.

“Yes, peas.” She responded, making him laugh again.

Before long, the neighbors were gossiping again, this time over the shocking sight of “Mr. Grant” making out with Dr. Lewis right in his backyard.

“I knew it!” Old Mrs. Richards chuckled, petting her dog gleefully.

“I’ll volunteer to make their wedding cake!” Exclaimed Mrs. Messer.

[theelvenhaven]

Getting Ready

PostAngband!Maedhros x Reader

1.7k words

* * * 

You came hurrying down the halls papers in hand, concerned that your usually punctual lover was late… It had been a considerable amount of time since he was late to anything. Let alone a meeting regarding the current state of the world and leaving Fingon and Fingolfin high and dry without notice. You wondered if perhaps the lack of sleep was getting to him, understandable if that were the case.

You weren’t nearly as oblivious as Maedhros may have thought you were to his episode last night. Knowing that if you had gotten up while he had been so angry it would only serve to frustrate him further that he had disturbed you from such a deep sleep. Quietly you let yourself into your unnervingly quiet bedroom. 

The central room where your bed sat was empty, you noted, setting down the paperwork on a nightstand. Messily made from where Maedhros had tried his hardest to make the bed, refusing any of your help let alone any maids. Determined to gain some control and independence back in his life that didn’t revolve around just the normal droll of politics. His night clothes were even messily folded at the foot of the bed, and though you had the urge to correct it you didn’t bother the messy pile. Letting Maedhros have some feeling of well deserved accomplishment during his day.

His brother, Curufin, had suggested making him a prosthetic to help with his independence but Maedhros had turned him down. Repeatedly was this offer made only making Maedhros more frustrated at the very thought. You heard the sudden sound of something wooden hitting a table in the washroom, followed by a heavy sigh and a slew of quenyan cuss words falling from Maedhros’ lips in his raspy voice. 

As you approached, gently you turned the handle and opened the door to find Maitimo sitting at the vanity slumped forward onto the table top. His head hanging down and his coppery waves in complete disarray and not neatly combed, and from what you could see in the reflection today he was wearing a button up tunic. Though it was opened and wrinkled from where he had tried desperately to have done it himself, you looked at him sympathetically standing still in the doorway. 

“If you are going to stare, then try not to do so with pity.” He breathed out, his voice flat yet there was a bite to it and you could only assume he thought you were someone else. Not that he was ever rude, but you knew he was tired of the sad glances and once overs he was given repeatedly. It was the other reasons maids were sparsely allowed in your room.

“You know I don’t pity you Maitimo.” You answered gently, beginning to approach him, watching the way his ears seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice. His shoulders releasing further tension, as much as he could at least. Always slightly on guard, and you knew this was the most vulnerable that he would be with you. 

“Y/N… Forgive me. I thought you were someone else.” You only nodded at his words as you paused at his side, your hand coming to his shoulder as he began to raise his head to look up at you. You offered him a soft smile and he averted his gaze just as quickly,

“There is no need for apologies or forgiveness. I understand my love.” You assured him warmly, and you paused in thought. Thinking of how to word what you were going to say to him next carefully,

“Maitimo… Is there anything I can do to help you?” You worded mindfully, not wanting to upset him further or make him feel cornered and forced into having to accept your help. Immediately Maitimo began to shake his head no at your words, his hand going rest over your hand on his shoulder. Engulfing your little one entirely, but you waited patiently as you watched him in the mirror. A few mild expressions crossing his scarred face, before he hung his head down again and sighed out heavily. 

“Yes…” He answered you finally with regret in his voice for even having to ask, though he knew you’d jump at every single opportunity he gave you to help him. He despised the feeling of helplessness and relying on other people, even from you as much as he loved you. Though you were the only one whose help he’d tolerate, save Fingon or Maglor. 

Gently he stood from the chair, prompting you to move back enough so he could face you. Maitimo certainly didn’t need to tell you what was the matter or what needed to be done… The open tunic exposing his scarred and marred chest was answer enough. You repressed the urge to lean forward and press kisses against them like you had last night… While you could not heal them, you hoped it perhaps helped him somehow. 

You stood on your toes carefully adjusting and straightening the collar for him, smoothing out the shoulders and pulling the open sides even before you began to button the tunic up. You felt his body tense some beneath your fingers as your skin brushed against his, though his gaze was kept mostly forward. It was hard not to notice the shame he felt,

“I love this tunic on you…” You commented softly smiling thoughtfully, the little buttons were gold with little Feanorian stars stamped onto them. The tunic had simple embroidery on the collar, nothing too flashy especially now. The deep burgundy complementary to his complexion and beautiful russet waves, and the rich color certainly made his pale eyes seem even brighter. Now he never wanted to wear anything that drew much more attention to himself. He even resigned his favorite copper circlet for the time being... 

Maedhros quietly looked down at you nodding almost warily at your words, no less appreciative for your compliment. He had learned not to argue with you when it came to matters of his looks and how you saw him. No matter how hideous he thought himself to be, you didn’t see him in such a light and he couldn’t figure out why. Maedhros had tried many times to press and push to make you see what he saw, but it only resulted in you pushing back twice as hard. 

“Thank you.” He said flatly, using his good hand to straighten his tunic better now that it was buttoned as you retracted your hands. 

“Of course my love.” You answered sweetly, and he seemed to nod before beginning to try and take his leave. You frowned, reaching out to grab Maedhros’ good hand to stop him,

“Do you not want me to do your hair?” You asked quickly standing closer to him, mindful to be unimposing so you didn’t trigger him into feeling trapped. He paused again, debating on what he wanted to do for a second,

“I will be late if I allow that.” He stated to you, yet he didn’t make another move to leave your side. Maitimo holding your hand in turn, loosely.

“You are already late, and I am sure your uncle and cousin will understand and do so without judgement Maedhros.” You pressed gently as his pale blue eyes flitted up from the floor to look at you, gently you squeezed his hand smiling again with reassurance as he weighed your words. Finally without another word, Maedhros relented moving to sit back down in the chair he just stood from. Keep his gaze down at the vanity top as opposed to the mirror. 

You gently ran the wooden comb through his long hair, it had grown quickly and just at his shoulder blades now. You did your best to begin taming the disarrayed and frizzy waves, combing his thick hair into your hand making sure to take your time. Maedhros sat stone still, shoulders tense anticipating sharp pulls against his scalp when you reached tangles, but it never came as he had mostly brushed them all out already. 

Setting down the comb you began to run your fingers through his scalp as you smoothed his hair back, feeling him shudder at the sensation. Finally beginning to relax some, trusting you further that you wouldn’t hurt him even unintentionally. You heard the soft sigh escape his lips as for a moment he shut his eyes as you repeated the motion, more than what was necessary to smooth his hair down. 

It was so rare to see him finally relax even a little bit, regrettably you finally paused in your ministrations, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Let me know if it is too tight.” You whispered to him, sectioning his auburn hair and the beginning to braid gently. Trying to find a happy medium between comfortably loose and just tight enough it wouldn’t come undone. You had pulled his hair once since its been so long, having laid on it in your sleep. His reaction had been- reasonably- panicked and fearful, and desperately you wanted to prevent from invoking such fear in him again. 

Flitting your eyes, you gauged Maitimo, his jaw straining as he clenched it in anticipation for you to pull his hair too tight. His hand and arm resting against his thighs, sitting straight and taut.

Yet you never pulled harshly, taking your time as you crossed over each section of hair. You could feel his eyes on you through the mirror as he watched you work. You glanced up, flashing him a gentle smile before reaching over his shoulder to grab the hair tie from the table top, tying off the braid.

“Is that okay?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders, slowly he began to nod moving to stand to his feet. Maitimo looked down at you with some fondness as he took your hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Thank you Y/N…” His voice soft and gentle, hesitating for a moment before he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. Lingering for a moment, sparing affections were rare except for at night when it could just be the two of you together. You smiled again, 

“Of course my love.” With that, Maitimo continued to hold your hand gently pulling you along from the washroom and to the meeting. Maitimo concluding for the moment that your help especially wasn’t all bad, grateful that he had someone so loving and patient by his side.

* * * 

A/N: Surprise!!!! I got my laptop back finally! I am going to start writing again! I’ll get on those requests ASAP but I am going to write a few things that come to mind too. I hope you guys enjoyed the little fic!

tags:

@saviorsongwrites​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandom-hoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​