#[ despite having been awake for 3/4 of each day ]

[southernvampire]

.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: A trip to the thrift store becomes overwhelming for Harris, and you and Eddie have to work as a team. But the real test of your relationship's strength is the crisis that unfolds days later.

Warnings: financial insecurity, school lock-in, missing child, police presence, mention of kidnapping, mention of drug addiction, blood (no gore)

WC: 8.5k

Chapter 19/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie has already been awake for two hours when the phone rings. One part of parenthood that he hadn’t anticipated is that children do not understand the concept of weekends. Harris had flung himself out of his racecar bed promptly at 6:30 in the morning, crawling under Eddie’s sheets and poking his nose until he woke up.

“Har, go back to sleep,” Eddie had grumbled, the last word extended in a whine. One cheek was smushed against his pillow, muffling his complaint. “It’s Saturday; you don’t have school.”

In response, Harris pursed his lips into a perfect pout and used his thumb to peel Eddie’s eyelid open, getting as close to his face as possible. His morning breath was tinged with the scent of chocolate; Eddie groggily made a mental note to better supervise his nighttime teeth brushing routine. 

“‘M hungry.”

That’s how Eddie finds himself pouring his third cup of coffee while his son keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching Doug stutter and stammer in front of Patti. Eddie smiles, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realizes that that’s probably what he looks like around you.

“‘Lo?” He cradles the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, wincing as he clumsily clinks the carafe into place. There isn’t enough coffee left to slosh over the side, a small miracle in and of itself, although he’ll have to brew some more if the caffeine doesn’t kick in soon.

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is sleepy yet sweet, smoothing all the creases of the morning. “Did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs and takes a sip from his favorite mug, the one that proudly declares #1 Dad. It’s stained and chipped, but he’ll never throw it out. Wayne had bought it for him on his very first Father’s Day; ironically, Eddie had bought him a #1 Grandpa mug that year, probably from the same kiosk at the mall.

“Not even close,” he says, tongue flicking to the corner of his lip to catch the drip of coffee that’s pooled in the crevice. “Someone was up bright and early this morning.” His gaze flits over to the bowl of Cheerios snug between Harris’s criss-crossed legs, mostly uneaten despite his earlier protests that would make an outsider believe he was starving. “How was your sleep?” he asks, swinging back to your conversation.

You switch the phone from one ear to the other. “It was good. Would’ve been better if you were next to me, though,” you add, twirling the cord around your forefinger. If you could, you would capture the safety of his embrace and bottle it, releasing a bit each time you craved his gentle touch. “I might’ve even let you be the little spoon.”

He balks at this with a playful scoff, nearly spilling his coffee with the sudden movement. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, licking the side of the mug before the bitter liquid can slide off and hit the ground. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Admittedly, his skepticism is rooted in truth; whenever you do get the chance to cuddle in bed, he’s always the one wrapping his arm around your waist, often taking the opportunity to snake a hand up your shirt and let the pads of his fingers brush over your breasts. It isn’t always a display of sexuality or desire–though you can’t say you mind that–but a connection, a way of ensuring that you stay close. 

“Just a few more weeks until we get to find out for ourselves,” you tease, though he needs no reminding. Only sixteen days remain until you officially move in together, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s counting down. “Speaking of which,” you continue, glancing at the clock, “I was wondering if you and Harris wanted to do some furniture shopping for his new room.” You knew that he would be keeping his racecar bed; it’s unlikely he’ll part with it until he’s outgrown it completely. “Y’know, a new dresser or nightstand or something.”

There’s an extended pause on Eddie’s side of the line. You think the call dropped and are about to hang up and redial when you hear him say,  “I, um…I don’t get paid until next week…” He nervously scratches the countertop with one fingernail. 

“Oh.” You grapple with a response, trying to strike a balance of empathy without condescension. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I sold some of Grandma’s old—”

“No way,” Eddie interjects, firmly but not harshly. “I’m not having you spend your money on me. We can just wait until payday.”

“I want to buy this for Harris. I…I probably should have cleared out Grandma’s room months ago, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but it felt wrong because I had nothing to put in its place.” You don’t care that you’re babbling on, forging ahead with your impromptu monologue. “It would’ve been too empty, but with you and Harris here, it won’t be empty anymore.”

Eddie tucks his thumbnail between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he prods, not wanting to sound ungrateful. 

“Positive.” You’re much more assured in your reply. “If she knew Harris before she got sick, she would’ve spoiled the hell out of him, anyway.” The moment she saw him happily digging into the Oreos, she would have ensured that the cupboard remained stocked with Double Stuf. “In a way, s’like she gets to spoil him now.”

You can sense Eddie’s resistance tempering with an audible exhale. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure,” he muses, buying time to process the influx of emotions flooding his body. There’s the obvious gratitude that you’re so eager to take care of his son, but it’s cut with the insecurity of him not being able to do so. If you’re going to buy Harris furniture, it should be because you want to, not because he can’t. What if you hold this against him? What if, in the future, there’s an argument and you fire back with a retort about his shortcomings as a father?

Except…you have never done that. Ever. Not that night in the emergency room, or when you’d found out about the CPS report filed that evening. Not even when Eddie had made it his personal mission to tear you down, pulling insults from the depths and hurling them at you with reckless abandon. 

You hadn’t brought up the way he’d helplessly panicked when confronted with the possibility of Harris’s learning disability, or how he’d let anxiety overtake him when he officially received a classification. With everything the two of you had endured, you’d never once echoed his anxieties about his parenting abilities; it was quite the opposite. With you by his side, he feels as though he can take on whatever challenge life chucks at him. 

“Eds? Is everything okay?” Your tone is thick with concern; Eddie realizes that you probably think you’ve upset him. “We don’t have to go—we can do something else, or—”

“Sweet girl,” he says in one exhale, both to reassure you and to remind himself that you’re his, and he’s yours. Love surges through the phone lines when he speaks. “We can pick you up in an hour, if that works? I should be able to wrangle Harris by then.”

“Y’sure?” And, Christ, how his heart sinks when you shrink inward, reflexively making yourself smaller when you’re worried that you’ve offended someone.

Eddie doesn’t answer you directly, instead, calls out his son’s name. “Hey, Harris?” He frowns when Harris completely ignores him in favor of watching the cartoon. Using his free hand, he cups his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, amplifying his voice. “Harris Wayne Munson!”

The sudden sound jolts him out of his TV-induced stupor. “Huh?” 

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth; we’re gonna go shopping with Ms. Sweetheart!” Eddie grins as Harris turns to him with a wide smile of his own. “C’mon, let’s go!” 

Harris jumps up without further hesitation, inadvertently tossing his bowl from the makeshift table of his legs. Milk splatters, instantly soaking into the carpet, and the Cheerios topple out and land in a soggy pile. “Nooo, my bref-ist!” His big eyes well up with tears. “Daddy, you made me drop my bref-ist!”

“You, uh, wanna deal with that?” You can’t hide your amusement at the usual Munson chaos. 

“Probably should, huh?” Eddie jokes back, stretching the phone cord as far as he can and reaching for the paper towel roll. “I love you, babe. See you in a bit.”

“I love you, Eds,” you tell him. “And Harris, too, of course.”

Some more static and shuffling; then, an energetic voice greets you. “Hi Ms. Sweetheart! Daddy made me drop my bref-ist,” the little boy reports. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Har.” You’ve perfected the art of mustering up sympathy for children’s not-soearth-shattering issues, a skill that every preschool teacher must possess. “Why don’t you help him clean up? That way, I can see you even faster.”

Harris pauses, mulling over his options. “Yeah, okay! Gotta go! Bye!”

You hear the clunk of him struggling to replace the phone on the hook, followed by Eddie saying, “Let me say good-bye before you hang—” click. 

Pulling your own receiver from your ear, you stare at it with mild amusement. Never a dull moment with my boys. 

Your boys drive up to your building just over an hour later. You stand up from the bench outside the entrance and smooth down your shorts where they’ve creased. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Eddie lets the pet name roll off of his tongue. He wants to kiss you as you slide into the passenger seat, but he withholds his affection for Harris’s sake. It seems silly, considering you’ll all be living together, but he doesn’t know how his son will react to the romance aspect of it. Will he be happy? Excited? Disgusted by any display of affection?

You give his hand a subtle squeeze, turning around to greet Harris. “Ready to shop till we drop?”

“Till we drop?” Harris wrinkles his nose, glancing between you and his dad. “Why would we drop?”

“It’s just an expression,” you explain, catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. “Just means that we’re going to shop until we’re too tired to shop anymore.”

“I never get tired,” Harris declares, sticking his legs straight out so his flexed feet push up against the back of the driver’s seat, nudging Eddie slightly forward. “Grampa Wayne calls me an ‘Energizer Bunny.’” He bounces up and down in his booster seat to prove his point.

Eddie reaches his right arm around, keeping his left firmly gripping the wheel, as he moves Harris’s feet from where they’re planted into his lower back. “So, Har,” he starts, easing his weight onto the brake as he approaches a red light, “we’re gonna look for a new dresser for you, and maybe a nightstand.” He takes a deep breath as he delivers the news: “That means we’re not making any pit stops for toys. Got it?”

You want to interject, to let Eddie know that you don’t mind splurging on a small treat for Harris, but you bite it back. Whether or not you have the spare funds is irrelevant: this is the boundary he’s set for his son, and you have to respect it, regardless of your desire to spoil him.

Harris, however, does not accept the announcement as readily. “Not even, like, a little one?” he presses, holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Even if I’m really, really good?” He gives a hopeful smile, eyes blinking expectantly.

Eddie looks at you, serving as your cue to provide your input. You nod your approval, trying to hide your delight in being asked to make a parenting decision, regardless of how menial it may seem. He peers up through the rearview mirror at his son’s waiting face. “If you’re really, really good,” he acquiesces, features pinching into a grimace when Harris’s exuberant squeal echoes through the sedan. “You have to use your inside voice and stay next to us the whole time. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harris confirms. “Deal, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Deal.” Laughter bubbles up inside you and you let it spill out uninhibited. You know that telling a child he can get a toy is an easy part of parenthood, but you silently swear to never take for granted being included in that choice. Harris joins you, though he’s not quite sure why he’s laughing, but your joy is contagious. 

You lean your head against the car window, listening to the buzz of the radio filling the silence. Harris hums along, more on-key than the average five-year-old, which you can safely attribute to him having a musician for a dad.

“I’m not getting a new bed, right?” Harris says with sudden urgency. “Because I wanna keep my racecar bed.”

“Mhm,” you affirm, smiling when Harris relaxes back against the headrest. “Your racecar bed will be in your new room, don’t you worry.”

“Okay.” That response satisfies him until he thinks up another question. “An’ you’re bringing your bed, Daddy?”

Eddie chuckles as he pulls into the Goodwill parking lot. He picks a spot close to the store, right next to a green Ford with a faded “Clinton ‘96” bumper sticker. “Um, no. I’m not bringing my bed.” 

“So are you getting a new bed?” His eyes dart from side to side as he assesses the size of the car. “Where’s it gonna fit?”

“I’m, uh, not buying a new bed, either.” Eddie kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, swiveling to face Harris, who is more confused than ever. “Ms. Sweetheart and I are going to share her bed.”

Harris kicks his feet, processing this new information. “But you didn’t get married yet,” he points out, “so how can you share a bed?”

You rest your palm on Eddie’s forearm in quiet reassurance. “Some people share a bed before they get married,” you explain simply, knowing that less is often more when talking to young children.

“When are you gonna get married?” he asks, more curious than meddling. “Because it’s taking forever. My friends’ mommies and daddies are already married.”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Harris essentially referred to you as his mommy; instead, he slowly exhales. “I’d like to marry Ms. Sweetheart someday, and I think she’d like to marry me, too.” He looks over at you with a sheepish grin, and you give his hand an agreeing squeeze. “But, for now, we’re just going to try out living together. How does that sound?”

“I guess that’s okay.” Harris isn’t completely thrilled with his dad’s response, but he relents anyway.

“While, we’re, uh, on the subject,” Eddie continues, the tips of his ears flushing pink as he carefully considers his words. He chews on the inside of his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Is he opening his son up to this relationship? “You know that Ms. Sweetheart and I love each other very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie continues with only some trepidation, “sometimes, when grown-ups love each other a lot, they hold hands o-or kiss. Would that be weird for you? If Ms. Sweetheart and I held hands, or kissed?”

You avert your gaze, partly from bashfulness but mostly so Harris doesn’t feel any pressure from either of you. 

The little boy looks at the car’s ceiling, centering his focus on the overhead lighting. Finally, with utmost certainty, he declares, “just no tongue-kissing.”

You snort out a laugh while Eddie goes bright red and sputters, “where did you learn about that?”

“Young and Restless,” Harris reports nonchalantly. 

Eddie rubs his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his lids until his vision blurs. “Remind me to tell Wayne to stop letting him watch the soaps,” he grumbles to you, turning back to his son. “Yeah, no tongue-kissing.”

You easily lace your fingers with Eddie’s as you walk through the front doors of the Goodwill. Harris starts making a beeline for the toys, but Eddie uses his free hand to pivot him in the direction of the furniture department. Harris huffs but complies, trudging alongside you. 

There’s a bright blue nightstand on display that immediately catches his eye. “Look!” he points, smiling so wide that all of his baby teeth are on display, “can I get it? Please?”

Eddie smiles warily, flipping over the white tag hanging from one silver drawer handle. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees the price is within the range of what he’d like to spend; rather, what he’d be comfortable asking you to spend. 

“Looks like we’ve got a winner,” he says, posture straightening with the announcement. He runs his fingertips over the surface, checking for any chipping paint or splintering wood, but the finish appears to be intact. “I’ll go tell someone to set it aside for us.”

He sets off in search of an employee, leaving you alone with Harris. You swallow the nervousness building in your throat. You spend nearly every day taking care of children, but you’re suddenly inundated with the memory of losing him at the flea market. Those few minutes when you couldn’t locate him were some of the scariest of your life. 

And yet, it hadn’t prevented Eddie from giving you another chance.

“Are you excited to move in with me, Har?” you ask, reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He nods, then looks straight up at you so that you’re staring at his nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart?” The position of his neck changes his voice’s pitch so it’s froggy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can you marry my daddy?” His eyes shine with potential. “And then you can be my mommy for real?”

You crouch down to his height, heart melting at his request. “Harris, I love your daddy very, very much. And I love you very, very much, too.” You poke his nose gently, and he giggles. “Being married is a big responsibility—”

“‘Sponsibility?”

“Mhm. Responsibility. It means a really important job.” You slide your heart pendant across the chain on your neck anxiously. “And your daddy and I want to make sure that we’re ready for that kind of responsibility before we do anything, okay?”

Harris nods, but you can tell from his crinkled nose and furrowed brows that he doesn’t fully understand. You can’t blame him; it’s an abstract concept, one that even you often have trouble comprehending. “But I can tell you one thing: whenever your daddy wants to propose, I’ll say ‘yes.’” You smile at the thought of Eddie asking you to be his wife. 

“Is that where he gets down on one knee and asks ‘Will you marry me?’” You’re about to respond when he adds, “and then someone runs in and yells about being their long-lost ‘dentical twin?”

Yeah, no more soap operas for Harris. 

Finding a dresser proves to be a much more difficult task than picking out the nightstand. Everything that Harris likes is out of budget, and everything within budget is too worn down or small. There’s one that’s in good condition and isn’t too pricey, but it’s covered in hand-painted unicorns. 

“That’s for girls!” Harris groans, stomping his feet. The last word is stretched in a whine. “I can’t have girl stuff!”

“We can paint over it. Whatever color you want,” you quickly jump in, trying to avoid a meltdown, but your efforts are fruitless. Fat tears stream down his cheeks; he’s already determined that the dresser is tainted. 

“No! No, no, no!” he howls, throwing himself on the floor. He smacks down on his tailbone, fanning his tantrum’s flames. He quiets for a moment, too shocked to cry, but then he’s screaming louder than before. 

It’s as though he’s lost control of his body, arms and legs knocking into the lower shelves without care. You can’t block him in time before he knocks over a lamp—a Nickelodeon-themed one that would have been perfect in his new room, ironically—and it shatters on the ground. Ceramic splinters, scattering across the linoleum like roaches in the light. 

People start to stare, some with sympathetic looks, and some glare angrily at the child daring to interrupt their shopping. Eddie’s face blazes, vision swimming as he wracks his brain for a solution. 

You’re faster, slapping a few bills into Eddie’s palm and jolting him from his thoughts. He watches you scoop Harris off of the floor, trying to avoid his flailing limbs. 

“Go get the nightstand and pay for the lamp,” you tell him, straightforward and precise. “I’ll get him to the car and calm him down. Keys?”

Eddie blinks, the information swirling around him but not quite penetrating the surface. It’s when you hoist Harris onto one hip and balance his weight in one hand, using the other to make a ‘gimme’ motion that it registers. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Eddie fumbles for the car keys and tosses them to you, the two of you working in tandem. A well-oiled machine. You nod gratefully, wincing as Harris’s foot makes contact with your thigh. “I’ll be right out.”

You’re able to bring him to the car, struggling to unlock it and hold on to Harris. After a few failed attempts, you manage to open the passenger door and sit him on the seat. 

“Harris, hey, Harris?” you start, keeping your voice soft and even while trying to pull his attention. His sobs are slowing down but he’s definitely breathing too rapidly for your comfort. “Hey, bud. You’re okay, all right?” You extend your hand and he tentatively places his own palm on top of it. “You wanna give my hand a squeeze?”

He does it, the motion grounding him enough that he can focus on your body in front of him. You don’t want to touch him, knowing that his senses are already overstimulated from the tantrum. Instead, you relax as his squeezing grows stronger and his breaths gradually even out. 

“There ya go, Har. Just like that.” You smile warmly. “That was a really big feeling, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” His voice shakes and hiccups. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, smudging them into his skin. 

You reach into the center console and grab a tissue, wiping the mucus from his nose and lips. “Good as new.” With no trashcan nearby, you shove the used Kleenex into your pants pocket. “Can you tell me what made you so mad in there?”

“D-Don’t want girl…girl st-stuff,” he stutters through ragged breaths. 

There’s a time and place to discuss the optics of categorizing interests into ‘boy’ and ‘girl,’ but you know better than to have that conversation now. “Oof, that’s why you were angry! That’s a lot to handle.” You gingerly tuck a curl behind his ear. “But, Harris, did you see what happened when you started hitting and kicking?” He shakes his head. “Well, you knocked over a lamp and it broke. You could have gotten hurt, or someone else could have gotten hurt.” 

Harris’s face falls as you speak, absorbing what you’re explaining. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he sniffles. “‘M sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you sigh, “sometimes, when we have big feelings like getting angry, we do things we shouldn’t without even realizing.” You pause for a moment, biting your lip as you consider your words. “Do you want to hear what helps me when I have really big feelings and I can’t scream and cry?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, little tongue peeking out to swipe up the tears above his mouth. 

“I take a deep breath and close my eyes,” you start, demonstrating both actions. Inhale for three, exhale for three, and repeat. “And then I picture myself being in my favorite place in the world.” You smile at him, blinking back the sadness that comes with memories of holidays at Grandma’s. “Wanna try it together?”

Harris responds by closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Good job, Har,” you softly praise him. “Now breathe out; make sure you’re thinking of your favorite place, okay?”

“Thinkin’ about the zoo,” he whispers, voice raspy from shrieking for so long. “Daddy taked me there and we saw so much animals.”

“Zoos are a lot of fun,” you agree with a laugh. “I’ve never been to the one in Hawkins. Maybe we can go over the summer?”

“Yeah! I wanna show you the flamingos!” His grin stretches across his cheeks “Do you like flamingos?”

Like most people, you don’t have a strong opinion on flamingos, but you respond with an enthusiastic, “I love them!”

“Love who?” Eddie’s voice breaks into the conversation. He’s rolling out the nightstand in a cart, keeping one hand on top of it to hold it steady. “Me?”

You laugh, opening up the back door so he can wedge the furniture next to Harris’s booster seat. “Yes, Eddie. I love you very much, don’t worry,” you tease, seizing the opportunity to inconspicuously check him out. His biceps flex as he maneuvers the nightstand, and you have to tear your gaze from his denim-clad ass when he stands up and triumphantly wipes his hands on his pants. 

“C’mere.” He pulls you in, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout and planting a smacking kiss on you. 

While you giggle, Harris is not as amused. He claps his hands over his eyes and groans. 

“No tongue-kissing!”

You’re wrapping up storytime, your students fidgeting with their shoelaces—some fidgeting with their friend’s shoelaces—eager to move onto the corresponding art activity Will has planned. 

“Okay, we’re going to use our walking—” Your announcement is cut short by Principal Sinclair’s voice coming over the loudspeaker. Her tone is typically warm and excited, but the way she speaks so sternly sends chills through your entire body. 

“This is a lock-in. All staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified. I repeat, all staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified.”

You breathe out, though you’re still concerned about the cause of the lock-in. It’s usually some kind of medical issue that requires emergency services to have unblocked access through the halls. You hope that whatever it is isn’t life-threatening. 

Will locks the door wordlessly, and you repeat your directions to the class. The kids walk to their seats, asking non-stop about what a lock-in means. 

“We just have to stay in the classroom,” you find yourself repeating, losing patience with each iteration. You’re thankful for small miracles; your class has already gone out for recess, which means you don’t have to break that news to them. 

Will is helping the kids glue multicolored strands of crepe paper in the shape of a rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. You’re unclogging a bottle of Elmer’s when the classroom phone rings, startling you. You place the glue bottle on the table, promising Joshua that you’ll be right back, and answer it. 

“Hello?”

“We need you to come to the office immediately,” the secretary’s clipped voice informs you. “Bring your personal items. We’ll send someone to assist Will.”

Stupidly, you nod before remembering she can’t see you. “Y-Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” You hang up, tell Will the plan, and bolt out the door. 

What the hell is going on? Why are they having me break the lock-in to go to the office? You hike your purse higher up your shoulder, trying to ignore the dread pooling in your stomach and creeping up your throat. 

Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong. 

Your feet can’t carry you fast enough. You nearly stop breathing when you see Eddie pacing in the lobby, Marion and Paula standing off to the side and speaking with Chief Hopper. The two teachers wear matching worried expressions. 

As soon as Eddie spots you, he’s charging over. “Oh, thank God,” he murmurs, throwing his arms around you and hugging you tight. You can feel the tears falling from his eyes, wetting the crook of your neck. His hands squeeze against your back and your shoulder blades as his body is wracked with sobs. 

You weave your fingers through his hair, holding him as close as you can. You’re desperate to know what’s going on, but you doubt he could explain if he tried. Instead, you continue comforting him while Principal Sinclair walks over. 

Her strides are long and purposeful, and she meets your own terrified gaze with her own. “Harris went missing during recess,” she says quietly, “and Mr. Munson let us know that you might be an asset in locating him.”

Harris went missing. Bile inches up your esophagus and you swallow it, wincing at its burn. “Why would he—” You stop mid-sentence; his motive is not important right now. All of your focus needs to be on finding him. 

Chief Hopper approaches you and Eddie, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder with two fingers. Eddie looks up, wipes his face with the heel of his palm, and clears his throat, but a fresh batch of tears threatens to spill over anyway. 

“We’ve just collected statements from his teachers,” Hopper reports, looking down at his notepad. “They said that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that Harris was just playing with his friends one moment and then gone the next.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, something had to have happened.” Harris had wandered off plenty of times, like at the flea market. The difference was that he was easily found. “If you haven’t found him, then he’s either hiding, or someone…” The thought is too painful to finish. 

Hopper looks over at the principal. “You’re certain that the playground is secure?” He asks her, not accusing, but waiting for confirmation. 

“Yes, absolutely secure,” she affirms, nodding her head. “The gate can only be opened from the inside, so no one can access it off of the street.”

You know this, of course, but it doesn't bring you closer to finding Harris. 

“We’ve taped off the playground,” Hopper continues, “and we’ve got a search squad going now. Considering that Harris has been diagnosed with a disability, we’re beginning this investigation right away.”

“Mr. Munson,” a second officer chimes in, “is there anyone who would be inclined to take your son? Perhaps a non-custodial parent or an estranged relative?”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “His mom, um, isn’t in the picture. Never has been.”

Hopper cocks one brow. “Never?” he asks disbelievingly. “How soon after he was born did she relinquish her rights?”

“She, um,” Eddie swallows, rubbing his nose in embarrassment, “she never did. Never relinquished her rights, I mean. She just kinda split.”

“So there was no formal agreement that she could no longer be involved in Harris’s life?”

“N-No,” he stammers, shame seeping from every pore. He’d always meant to start the legal proceedings, but that takes time and money…and maybe a small part of him had always hoped she’d come around and do the right thing. 

He looks over at you now, the way you’ve stepped into a mothering role like a puzzle piece. Like any parent, you’d made some mistakes, but you’re also the most compassionate person Eddie has ever known. 

He thinks of the times he’d tried to make his ex get clean, to want to get clean, and to be there for Harris. The weight of disappointment caused his chest to ache every time she’d mumble, “I’m gonna, but not right now” or “I don’t need help.”

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two of you; after all, you hadn’t struggled with addiction. But Eddie can’t help himself. You’d loved Harris before you’d even loved him, he realizes. And he’d never had to ask you to. 

“Do you have any contact information for her?” Hopper taps his pen against his notepad. “Nine out of ten times in these situations, the child is with someone they know.”

What about the ‘one’ time? What happens then? Heat pulses in Eddie’s cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t need Hopper to answer the question; he already knows what that means. 

“It’s from five years ago, so I don’t know if it’s still accurate.” He stumbles over his words, thinking about the last time he’d called her; it was the invitation to Harris’s birthday. “I don’t know it by heart, but I have it in my address book at home.”

Hopper gives a brusque nod to his colleague and to your boss. “We’ll give you a lift. And, uh, it’ll be good to set up your place as a home base.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Eddie mumbles, simply going through the motions without processing them. He’s on autopilot, a robotic version of himself. If he was able to fully absorb his surroundings, he would note the irony of him sitting in the back of the cop car because they’re helping him instead of escorting him to the county jail. 

You don’t let go of his hand the entire ride there, your thumb rubbing the soft hairs on his knuckles. “We’re gonna find him,” you whisper reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

But Eddie is too embroiled in his own thoughts, imagining every possible tragedy that could have befallen his son. As soon as Hopper pulls up to the apartment complex, Eddie is flying up the stairs, two at a time, unlocking the door as fast as he can. You run in behind him, watching as he flings loose papers and pens from a kitchen drawer. He’s kicked over the boxes he’s already packed; clothes and some of Harris’s toys are scattered across the floor like a poorly-designed booby-trap. 

He holds up the tattered black book, flipping through it until he lands on the right page. “Here. Right here.” He frantically points to an entry at the top, fingertip jabbing into it over and over. 

Hopper takes the book from him, careful not to rip the already weathered materials. He dials the digits and frowns when he’s greeted by the automated we’re sorry, this number is no longer in service, far too chipper for the circumstances. He tries once more in case he dialed incorrectly, but he gets the same message. 

“Disconnected,” he says gruffly, hanging the receiver with a clank. “Is there anyone else?”

Eddie can only shake his head somberly. If Wayne got Harris from school early, he would have told him. He wasn’t even sure how much of Harris’s maternal family knew of his existence, let alone his location. If someone took his son, it was more than likely a complete stranger. 

Hopper’s walkie crackles with static; you and Eddie stiffen with anticipation. “Hey, Chief?” comes from the garbled voice on the other end. 

“I’m here.”

“We’ve got a kid here at the school who says he spoke with Harris Munson right before he went missing today.”

Eddie stands up, walking closer to Hopper. Part of you expects him to grab the walkie and try talking straight to the other officer, but he doesn’t. 

Hopper presses the small black button and speaks. “Copy. Does he know where we might locate him?”

There’s a deafening silence for a few moments; no more than ten seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, there’s some information: “No known location; just says that Harris told him he was having ‘big feelings’ and needed to go to his favorite place.’”

“The zoo,” you murmur aloud, drawing confused looks from both men in the room. “When he got upset on Saturday—at Goodwill—I taught him to do some deep breathing and picture being in his favorite place, and he told me it was the zoo. But I…” you swallow, furrowing your brows, “I told him to picture it, not actually go there.”

“Zoo’s too far for him to walk, and no bus driver is going to let a kid that young ride by himself,” the chief points out. 

You nod, biting your lower lip. “He might not be at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to get there.”

Hopper thanks the other officer and turns to you and Eddie. My guys are deploying the search party as we speak.” He takes a deep breath and makes direct eye contact with you and Eddie. “We’ll do everything we can to bring your son back safely.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands, collapsing back against the living room wall and sliding down to the floor. 

You look over at the police chief. “Can we help? Join the search…or something?” Anything besides sitting around and waiting for answers. 

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an officer stationed here in case Harris comes home.” 

You nudge your foot against Eddie’s. “C’mon, babe.” You try to keep strength behind your words, to be what Eddie needs right now, but it gets harder with each passing second. “We’re gonna go look for him.” He looks up and notices that you’ve extended your hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up. 

He doesn’t say a word, but he follows you and Hopper out the door. He’s gnawing on his lips so violently that some skin peels off between his teeth; flecks of blood dotting his usually perfect mouth. 

“We’ve got some time before sunset, so that’s on our side,” Hopper says as he drives back the way he came. “We’ll start in the woods near the school, and we’ll move from there.” He peers back at the two of you through the rearview mirror with a determined gaze.

“My uncle,” Eddie says suddenly, no certain expression on his face. He’s practically catatonic when he talks. “I want Wayne to wait at the apartment. I need to tell him…” If Harris does return home first and sees police officers surrounding the place, he might get scared and run off again.

Hopper scratches at his beard. “We’ll let him know, all right? Don’t worry about that.” He radios the instructions to a colleague, who confirms them and signs off, before pulling into a grassy area and killing the engine. “Let’s go. If Harris is going to come out for anyone, it’ll be you two.” He slams his door and then helps you and Eddie out of the backseat. 

Before you can even begin, you hear a group of people shouting Eddie’s name. You look over to see Jeff, Jess, and Robin waving and walking towards you. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Robin says, giving you and Eddie a hug. “We’re gonna help you, and we’re not leaving until we find him.”

Jeff offers a tight smile, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’re here for you man,” he promises, sincerity in its purest form. “Viv is gonna stop by later and I’ll take care of Ettie.”

It’s a kind gesture, but Eddie’s stomach sours at the thought of still searching later. He needs to know that his son is safe now. 

Harris’s name is echoed over and over, bouncing off of trees and shaking the leaves as you and your friends call out for him. 

“Harris!” you cry out, throat raw from your constant shouting. “Harris, it’s Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Harris!” Eddie’s voice is even louder than yours; the power behind it is palpable. “Harris, it’s Daddy! Please come out! You’re not in trouble!” he adds, cognizant of the little boy’s fear of making people mad. 

Every squirrel that darts across the forest floor has you whipping your head around, heart leaping at the prospect of Harris emerging from where he’s hiding. 

He has to be hiding; your mind won’t let you imagine what could happen if the wrong person saw him walking by himself, determined to get to the zoo…

“Harris, Aunt Robin and I will buy you any toy you want!” Jess yells. “And all the ice cream you can eat!”

The five of you take turns making promises to nobody; they’re secrets shared with the wind. Each unanswered call leaves you feeling more defeated, especially with the sun hanging lower in the sky. It will be dark soon, leaving Harris even more vulnerable than he already is.

Will joins the group a few moments later, bringing granola bars, water, and flashlights. You can only stomach about a quarter of your snack, having completely lost your appetite. Eddie doesn’t even bother to eat, fueled by adrenaline rather than food.

“Principal Sinclair is also looking,” Will tells you and Eddie. “She’s with Lucas and Erica over at Merrill Wright’s farm. It’s closer than the zoo, but he’s got some animals, so they wanted to check there.” He pauses, casting his eyes down for a second before looking at Eddie. “Everyone’s helping out with this. They all want to find Harris.”

Tears well up along Eddie’s lash line; he blinks them away to keep his vision clear. “Thanks, man.” He coughs to clear his throat, emotions forcing their way through. “That means a lot.” For a moment, he sees Will as he was when they first met: an overwhelmed little freshman, unsure of his place in high school, let alone in the world.

What if Harris never gets the chance to find himself? What if he doesn’t get to grow up and learn new things, make his own mistakes, figure out who he is?

You put an arm around Eddie, unknowingly pulling him from his intrusive thoughts. “Can you try to drink some water? Please?” You know better than to nag him about eating right now, but the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated.

He cracks open the bottle and takes a few sips, not realizing how thirsty he was until the liquid covers his tongue. He downs it all without taking a breath, the plastic crinkling as he siphons out every last drop of water.

“Take mine,” you tell him, offering it with the best smile you can possibly muster, but he shakes his head.

“You need it, too.” He’s not wrong, but you have no issue letting him drink from your bottle if he’s still thirsty.

You take a sip and pass it to him. “We’ll share.”

Another hour passes, the pink and orange hues becoming deeper purples and reds as the sky darkens with night. Some people start to call it quits, returning home to their own children, breathing secret sighs of relief that they have children to return home to. Your group remains intact; no one is even considering leaving until they physically cannot move any longer.

With just overworked flashlight bulbs illuminating your path, you continue trudging through the woods. Hopper’s shift was over hours ago, but he’s steadfast in his pursuit to find Harris.

Eddie’s exhausted physically and emotionally, feeling like every part of him has been drained and can never be replenished. His son is missing; he might have been kidnapped, and he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see him again. All he wants is to hold him again, to hear his little laugh as he tells a cheesy joke he learned at school, to watch him sound out new words or draw a picture or just fall asleep in his own bed.

Hopper’s walkie crackles; he clutches it tight and holds it so he can hear it clearly.

“Chief, we may have a sighting.”

A light flickers behind Eddie’s eyes; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself. He listens intently as the other officer relays the information.

“Doris Driscoll just went outside to let her cats in for the night, and when they didn’t go inside, she went looking. Found them behind a bush, eating crackers out of a little boy’s hands. He told her his name is Harris. Matches the descriptions the father provided.”

Eddie grabs your hand, gripping it with whatever strength he has left. You feel a surge course through your veins as Hopper motions for you to follow him to his car. He turns on his siren and guns it down the road, swerving in and out of traffic to get to the old woman’s house as fast as he can.

Please, please let him be here, you silently pray, subconsciously screwing your eyes shut and holding your breath. The only thing worse than not knowing where he is might just be a false alarm that he’s been found. 

Hopper slams on the brakes behind an ambulance parked in front of the Driscoll residence, their open doors allowing the fluorescent lights to stream through. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as an EMT wheels a stretcher over to it. 

A stretcher carrying Harris. 

“Harris!” Eddie cries in simultaneous relief, exuberance, and fear. He instinctively reaches for a door handle, quickly remembering that he’s in a cop car and had to wait for Hopper to let him out from the outside. 

You’re already crying; everything you’d been holding back to maintain a solid resolve for Eddie is crumbling as soon as you’d seen his son. You scramble out of the car, right behind him, and run to where the emergency technicians are treating Harris. 

He’s awake and alert, and he spots the two of you right away. “Daddy! Ms. Sweetheart!” He tries sitting up, but a technician gently guides him to lay down again. “No, that’s my daddy and my almost-mommy!” he protests. “I gotta see them!”

You and Eddie reach him at the same time. He’s covered in dirt; it’s smudge along his cheeks, his arms, and his legs. He’s even managed to get some on the tip of his nose. Some blood is smeared on his right knee where he’s seemed to have scraped it, and the EMTs spray some antiseptic on it and apply a bandage before he can even feel the sting.

“Oh, thank God.” The words rush out of Eddie’s mouth, and he puts his palms on his son’s cheeks and presses kisses all over his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He turns to the technicians, worry pinching his brows together. “He’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong?” He pushes some of Harris’s damp curls from his forehead. There aren’t any visible bumps or bruises on his face, which eases a bit of his nerves.

One technician nods. “Right now, it seems like he’s just got some minor lacerations, but we’ll run the gamut of tests to rule out more severe injuries.” She looks over at the police chief, who stands a few yards behind you. “We’ll take it from here.”

Hopper gives a small, sad smile; it’s then that you remember that his own child had passed away nearly twenty years ago. She was only a little older than Harris is now. 

Eddie follows your gaze with red-rimmed eyes, the realization setting in for him, too. “Thanks, Chief,” he says, just loud enough so Hopper can hear him. Hopper nods, placing his hat atop his head before walking away.

The EMTs check for any broken or sprained bones, shine lights into Harris’s pupils, and ask him a few simple questions to assess for a concussion. “We’ll have to take him to the hospital, just to be sure,” they say to you and Eddie, “but barring any extenuating circumstances, you should be able to bring him back home tonight.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie breathes, crouching down a bit so he’s eye-level with his son. “Har, can you tell us why you ran away from school? You’re not in trouble; I promise.”

Harris looks down at the blanket draped across his lap. “I had really big feelings, and I tried thinking about the zoo like you told me,” he glances at you, “but then the feelings didn’t go away, so I decided to go there.”

You take his small hand in yours. “What were the big feelings?” you ask gently, free of judgment and filled with concern.

He thinks for a second, then states matter-of-factly, “Mad and sad.”

“Mad and sad?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, wiping at his nose with his free hand. “‘Cause of Ms. Marion and Ms. Paula.”

You freeze, trying to regain your composure before Harris can pick up on your uncertainty. “What happened with your teachers, Har?”

“They were saying mean things about you and Daddy, and it made me mad and sad.”

At the sound of his title, Eddie speaks up. “Mean things about us?”

“Yeah, like, that Ms. Sweetheart is probably teaching you how to read, too,” Harris explains, “and I said that they’re lying, that you’re really smart and read to me all the time. And that Ms. Sweetheart isn’t your teacher; she’s my almost-mommy.”

Eddie clenches his fists, veins prominent as his body goes stiff. His anger isn’t at the insult, but at the way they could speak so brazenly about a child’s family, disregarding the hurt it causes. He doesn’t care what those women think of him, but he’s furious that they upset Harris.

“They keeped laughing and telled me to go play,” Harris continues, getting choked up at the memory. “I tried to do my breathing and my favorite place remembering with Charlie, but it didn’t work. And I got lost going to the zoo–the real zoo, not the one in my imagination–so I hided with the cats until the nice lady found me.”

You and Eddie share heartbroken looks, pushing aside your respective emotions as you tend to the little boy laying in front of you. “Get some rest, Har Bear,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. “You had a long day.”

He falls asleep after a few minutes, constantly checking to make sure that the two of you are still by his side. As soon as his breathing steadies and his eyes remain closed, Eddie turns to you, exhausted and running on fumes. Wet brown doe eyes pleadingly gaze at you, lids heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around him, unable to get close enough. He moves slowly, every action a delayed reaction, but he gradually embraces you, too.

“Stay. Please.” The words are muffled by the way his mouth is mashed into your scalp, but you hear them perfectly fine. “And if we get to go home tonight, come back with us. I need you both close to me.”

“Of course.” Your own lips press against his perspiration-soaked shirt collar. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” You pull back ever-so-slightly, brushing tears from his cheeks. “He’s safe. He’s safe, and he’s here, and we get to keep spoiling and loving him.”

Eddie absorbs this as best as he can, mind still spinning as the adrenaline crash hits. There’s so much he wants to say, but for right now, he just carves out space in his body for yours. Your light whisper keeps him grounded, pulling hi away from the spiraling that usually overtakes him in times of crisis.

“I’ve got you.”

--

[penkura]

last forever [8/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This is my personal favorite chapter I've written. That's all I have to say lol.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7]

“Hey, Sanji. Do me a favor.”

Sanji's nearly unconscious as Zoro speaks to him, his favor loud and clear before the blond passes out, leaving the swordsman to face Bartholomew Kuma alone.

You thought Zoro was going to die, you had convinced yourself he wasn't going to wake up. You'd stayed by his side, praying, ever since Sanji and Chopper brought Zoro back into Moria's mansion to treat his wounds and let him rest. Sanji won't tell you a word of what happened, no matter how much you beg him to.

“Mosshe– Zoro wouldn't want you to know. I doubt he wants anyone to know. Least of all you and Luffy.”

Whatever Sanji meant, you don't know, and right now you don't even care about what had Zoro knocked out the last little while.

Finally he was awake, it felt longer than it really was, three (agonizing) days, he had freakish healing like Luffy did, of course. But seeing he's awake, you can't help it, you throw yourself at him saying his name over and over like a mantra as you cry. Of course it freaks him out a bit, once he bites back a heavy groan from the pain you've just inflicted on him with your tight hug, it takes Zoro a moment to register you hugging him before he's able to do anything about it.

And he returns your hug slightly. Loosely wrapping his arms around you, one around your shoulders, the other barely touching your waist, an attempt at comforting you while you cry.

Damn it, he's tried so hard to push your feelings away, get you to stop looking at him like he was your world, but now Zoro realizes he's only stoked the flames by doing so, only made your feelings stronger without meaning to.

But, maybe he doesn't mind. He'd seek you out each morning, mostly asking if you'd gotten anything from your parents about your little sham marriage, but he'd also ask you to train with him if you weren't busy, and even be the one to go into town with you whenever the Sunny docked for a day or two. You never asked, you just knew he was coming with you so you waited for him, waited until he was by your side and then you'd smile and lead Zoro into the town to shop for whatever your heart desired (and your wallet could afford). In the time he'd started doing that, Zoro noticed different things about you.

The way you laughed with store clerks as they told you about an item you were looking at, your eyes would sparkle with every new find, how you'd hold onto his wrist to make sure he didn't get lost, you staying beside him when he'd nap on Sunny, you making sure he had enough water during his workouts.

How you'll help anyone on the ship with anything they need. You'll bring Nami the supplies she needs to make maps, help Usopp and Luffy fish for dinner, wash the dishes after dinner despite Sanji telling you he'd do it. You've been learning from Chopper how to treat wounds, you'll sit with Robin and listen to her tell you about history, you've even started helping Franky with his projects and helping to perform maintenance on Sunny if needed.

Then with him. With Zoro you're content to sit quietly while he naps, or watch him while he trains, never expecting a conversation. You willingly bring him whatever he needs, whether it's water or sake, you fix his shirts if they get torn, you even stay up when he has night watch and share drinks with him. He never thought someone would want to spend all their time with him or that he'd accept someone being so close to him, what had changed that made him actually want company during times he'd normally want to rest and be alone?

You. Damn, it was you.

You whose inner demons would infiltrate your dreams, causing you to slip into his bed for comfort, stability, as he slept soundly which gave you peace to do the same, a silent promise after the first time of yes, I’ll keep you safe. You who he had saved from drowning more times than Luffy and Chopper combined. You who made him feel like he was on fire with the slightest touch, even a brush of your fingers against his at dinner. You who had stitched him up multiple times, the first one turning into a jagged scar that if asked he'd say was his favorite. You who cared enough to stay sober in bars to drag him back to the hotel or the ship when you knew he needed to stop and rest.

You who would tell him every detail about the books you were reading, the ones you'd purchased or borrowed from Robin. The one time you told him the main love interest of a romance novel reminded you of him, making his face burn red out of embarrassment before he told you not to say such things, especially in front of the others (mostly Sanji).

Even after telling you in Alabasta that nothing was going to happen, you two weren't going to become a couple, he wasn't here to play romance with you or anyone else. Even after all that, you still stuck to his side almost like glue and didn't let it change anything.

Even with your argument after Robin joined, nothing much changed between the two of you. If anything, Zoro felt more drawn to you than anything or anyone else. He wanted to spend more time with just you and him. What a change from just a few months ago, he just realized.

Even once you kissed him and he returned it in Water Seven, you attempted to apologize soon after, before he stopped you. There had been nothing to apologize for, not from you anyway. If he'd thought about it at the time, Zoro would have apologized for not giving you a proper response then. For making you go to bed alone that night.

Damn it all.

What has happened to him? Ever since your sham marriage began something has been creeping into his mind every time he looks at you and remembers "Oh yeah I'm married to her" that makes him want to pull you away from everyone and damn it, he wants to kiss you again. There's another feeling of wanting, needing to protect you, despite how strong you are in your own right. Everything about this is weird, yet somehow comforting as well. Who put this spell on him, who made him have feelings like this? Are you secretly a witch on top of a swordswoman?

"Zoro…?"

Zoro breaks out of his thoughts when you speak his name again, this time as a question, your voice shaking as you hold him tighter, trying your best not to hurt him again.

"I…” your voice shakes again, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, briefly wondering if this was the smart thing to do, before the words fall out of your mouth, “I love you…"

He pulls you closer, just a bit, your whispered confession only loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't have a response, not right now, but you're fine with that. You'd accepted long ago he may never love you back, but you had to tell him. He had to know.

After nearly losing him, you had to get these feelings out.

So when he ever so quietly thanks you, pressing the softest kiss to your temple, it makes you cry even more. You feel there's a chance, however small it may be, that Roronoa Zoro may come to have feelings for you one day.

Chopper returns a moment later, not wanting to pull you two apart, but he's so happy to see Zoro's alive and awake that even he cries a little, before checking the swordsman's wounds as you release yourself from him, Zoro allowing you to continue holding his hand for comfort.

Not only for you, but for him as well.

“I probably won't make it out of this…so take care of her for me, got it?”

+!+

"I told Zoro I love him."

It becomes so quiet you can hear a pin drop after that. Nami had asked why you were so spaced out that day, she and Robin now both so surprised at your confession. Nami's jaw drops and Robin has a small smile, before they look at each other with one thought in mind.

Impromptu girl's night.

"I'm getting extra blankets and pillows!"

"I'll ask Sanji for some wine and snacks."

Once everything is together and all the pillows and blankets are spread on the floor, you have glasses of wine and small snacks, Nami demands to hear every detail and you tell her and Robin everything about your love confession.

"He…he thanked me and kissed me–"

"On the lips again?!"

You laugh and shake your head, taking a small sip of your wine. "No, just on my temple this time."

Nami squeaks a bit, Robin laughing lightly at her reaction and the longing look on your face. As soon as she joined she'd seen the love you held for Zoro on your face, anytime you spoke of him or someone else did, your eyes would light up and your cheeks would burn pink.

You were deeply in love with him, even though he showed no romantic feelings for you. Robin had given you a romance novel once specifically due to the fact the love interest even reminded her of Zoro, which you quickly agreed with and finished the book in nearly three days which surprised her.

Nami, knowing you and Zoro were married, wanted you two together from the start. Every time you told her something that made you fall more and more in love with him, she'd giggle alongside you which always got a strange look from Usopp and Luffy, who thought you were both insane. She'd push you two together so often, that when Zoro started following you off the ship she thought it was a good sign, since she didn't have to bribe him with reducing his debt or anything. He just went on his own.

"That's such a great sign!" Nami throws her arms around you in a hug, making you laugh while Robin nods. "He's starting to fall for you! Finally!"

"I wouldn't go that far, Nami."

"I would! After all these months, you guys could be a real couple!"

"Nami, let's calm down a bit," Robin smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder, "She and Zoro will need to talk things out eventually, but let's see if anything changes since she's confessed her love to him."

Sighing loudly, Nami nods but still holds onto you, seeing a strange look on your face. She's not sure if it's one of concern or what, but it makes her hug you a little tighter.

"I'm sure he loves you, maybe deep down right now, but, he's gonna tell you one day."

You smile a bit with a slight nod, hugging Nami back. You believe her, you really do. Even if it takes a while for Zoro to say anything back to you, it doesn't matter. You'll wait as long as it takes and not give up.

For Zoro, you'll wait a lifetime.

+!+

You're crawling into Zoro's bed a few nights later. Your nightmares had turned from your neglectful parents to losing him at Thriller Bark, waking you with tears and sobs that Robin tried to help you through, calming you down enough for you to tell her you were going to slip into his bed like you'd done every time before. She simply nodded and let you go, promising to tell Nami nothing about it, you didn't want her worrying.

Zoro's fast asleep, as always, as you quietly sneak into the boy's bunks and step over Luffy who had fallen out of his hammock. You hear him mumble something about meat in his sleep while Usopp snores and Chopper sleeps happily beside him, but you pay no mind to it. You feel lucky Franky's in his workshop, Sanji's still busy in the kitchen, and Brook is out on the deck playing his violin. None of them should cause you any problems this time, but does it matter if they do?

Your thoughts are entirely on Zoro and making sure he's okay. He's still injured, but you have to be certain nothing is wrong.

You quickly and quietly slip into his hammock once you reach it, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his back, hearing a slight groan from him due to his wounds still not being fully healed. You feel bad waking him, even as he turns around and throws one of his arms over you, looking at you as if asking what was wrong, even though he thought he knew. It's been a while since you've last done this, your nightmare must have been particularly awful for you to return to this habit he'd thought you'd stopped.

"You okay?" His brows are furrowed while he wipes a few of your tears away. He's never seen you this upset after a nightmare before.

You try to speak but all that comes out is a whimper and a quiet sob, making you grip his shirt tighter as you shake your head. You can't tell him, you can't get the words out that it was a nightmare about him dying after he’s told you numerous times he wasn’t dying until he became the world’s greatest swordsman. He came so close to death at Thriller Bark that you were just terrified deep down about it becoming reality.

Instead of inquiring further, Zoro just nods, pulling you closer in an effort to calm you down.

"You're safe here. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm around."

You feel the quickest of kisses on your forehead before Zoro tucks your head under his chin, closing his eyes to sleep again, and it's all so strange to you. You've not had time to sit and talk since you told him you love him, but he's treated you slightly differently lately. Still going into town with you, training with you, but now sitting beside you at every meal which pissed off Sanji at times, purposefully leaning against you while he napped as you read a book.

He let you hold his hand the other day in town, even stopping at a small café with you for lunch and refusing to let you pay for your own meal despite his own money problems.

Zoro may not be in love with you yet, but you can tell he definitely cares for you in how he treats you. He saw through your façade of acting like all was well while you were still nursing the pain from your parents treating you like property and trying to sell you off to someone nearly twice your age just for money, the pain your brother tried his hardest to lighten before he helped you run away. He'd noticed from the moment he met you that there was something you were keeping from him and when he got it out of you one night, he said he'd keep you from having to go back. That was why he married you, you had more to give and do than be someone's third bride, he'd help you achieve it himself.

"Thank you, Zoro."

He's still awake, but once you finally fall asleep, he opens his eyes and watches you, finally peaceful. He feels bad he doesn't have a true response to you yet, he’s still working things out in his own mind and heart. Telling you once before that he held no romantic feelings for you, but now realizing that his thoughts have changed, it’s hard to work through that without letting anyone know. He doesn't want to get your hopes up just to tell you he doesn't feel the same in the end.

But, Zoro thinks that maybe, maybe staying married to you won't be so bad. Maybe, once he works out his feelings, he'll try to properly court you, give you a relationship you deserve, he'll protect you from anything and anyone else.

And then, one day, you could revisit this being a married couple thing, maybe actually live as husband and wife.

+!+

There's a slight bit of teasing the next morning from Franky. He'd finally gone to bed at one point and was surprised you had snuck into Zoro's hammock, the swordsman having an arm around you as you both slept. Granted he's seen how close you two are, especially after the fiasco of Thriller Bark, but didn't think you were that close.

He's also surprised by none of the others, apart from Brook, saying anything about it either. Was this normal for the two of you, to share a bed like that? If it was, why didn't Zoro just join you in the women's bunks? Surely your bed was more comfortable than his hammock.

Your face feels like it’s burning all through breakfast, the same as when Sanji first caught you in Zoro's hammock and made a fuss about it. Zoro just sets a glare at Franky anytime he says something about you two getting cozy with a grin that tells him your shipwright is getting the wrong idea. You two hadn't done anything, you slept like the other times, there's no reason for this teasing.

Zoro eventually has enough and slams his hand on the table, frightening most of your crewmates, standing up and continuing to glare at Franky.

"Would you just shut up about it? She had a nightmare and came to me for help, that's all. Come on, let's go."

Luckily you're done with breakfast when Zoro tells you to go with him, nodding and doing so as you hear Sanji and Nami reprimand Franky, who's now wondering why Zoro, of all people, got so angry about a little bit of teasing.

"I don't get what the big deal is," Franky leans back in his seat, ignoring how Nami is still looking like she's going to smack him, "So what if they're together? Not like it's against the rules or anything."

"Except they aren't together." Sanji responds before Nami can, and all it does is make Franky question the situation even more. He's trying to diffuse the situation, making sure your arrangement with Zoro doesn't get out before you either annul or Zoro decides to stay with you.

Luffy nods, before saying "They're married though, but don't tell anyone else!"

"Luffy!!" Nami doesn't even wait to smack him over the head, making your captain whine and ask what that was for. "That's not our secret to tell!"

"Well they're gonna get an annulment thingy anyway, so why does it matter??"

"Wait what, what the hell?"

“I didn't know Zoro and [Y/N] were married!” Chopper sounds beyond excited, while Brook laughs.

“Yohoho, what a surprise!”

Franky and Brook try to question Luffy and Nami about the whole thing, while Robin smiles to herself.

She's heard you and Sanji talking about your marriage to Zoro every now and then, and knew most of the details already, but knowing your feelings for him, she’s sure it’s only a matter of time before you two actually became a couple.

Though, she’s also fairly certain that if you heard your marriage had been revealed, you'd crawl in a hole and die while Zoro would seriously consider throwing Luffy overboard, before saving him in the end.

+!+

"I don't think Franky was trying to be rude about it."

"He was being obnoxious is the point, [Y/N]."

Nodding in agreement, you keep your eyes on your book once Zoro comes back from showering after his morning workout. He'd gone straight to the crow's nest after leaving the kitchen, you running to get a book and joining him once you'd picked one out. You've been sitting there ever since, having small conversations with Zoro while he worked out, eventually leaving long enough to take a shower before coming back to you in the same spot. He didn't want to talk about the morning's events anymore, but you felt like you had to say something no matter how obnoxious Franky was about the whole situation.

Zoro sits beside you, and you barely glance over a few times, wondering if now was a good time to talk about your confession and what's next for the two of you, before he speaks first.

"Anything from your parents?"

Ah yes, that makes sense. He hasn't asked yet today, that's what was missing from this day.

Shaking your head, you close your book and lean back to stare up at the ceiling. "Not a word. Makes me think they forgot they had a daughter."

"We're three days out from having to divorce, right? So there's probably no chance of them responding in time."

You're not sure if you hear annoyance or concern in Zoro's voice, but again you nod.

You don't know how to voice that you don't want to annul or divorce, that your confession to him after he woke up at Thriller Bark wasn't a heat of the moment thing or simply crewmate concern. You really are in love with him, that was a fact you've come to know over the last few months but were only able to voice recently.

Why do feelings have to be so complicated?

"You meant what you said, after I woke up?"

He's very quiet, you almost miss him speaking, but your breath catches in your throat, and its all you can do to just nod, a small 'yes' coming out of your mouth.

Zoro's not at all surprised as he nods, trying to plan his next words carefully. He's not ready to say the same love confession to you, but he might be willing to try. Try a relationship with you and keep you safe, whether your parents ever reply to you or not. He's willing to give the two of you a shot.

It's strange, how just six months ago you were in tears to him about the arranged marriage and he quickly offered to marry you and keep you from going home, from leaving him. At first, he tried to convince himself it was because you were useful, you worked well with him when taking down bounty targets. You knew how to use a sword and could perform recon work on your targets, all of that was more than what he needed in a bounty hunting partner, when he'd never thought of having one before. Not until he met you in that dinky little bar when you were running away from home, nearly passing out when you ran into him because you'd had a fever and he kept you from hitting the ground. He lost a couple days of work taking care of you, a complete and total stranger, that you were so grateful to him you offered to help and he only let you do so after you sparred with him. You lost obviously, but Zoro was impressed enough to let you follow him if you wanted to.

The year and a half you had traveled and worked together was enough, he knew it when he told you he'd marry you. You didn't know it, still don't to this day, and Zoro would likely take the truth to the grave with him, but at this point he knew it.

He knew he had feelings for you, it was just telling you. That's the difficult part right now.

You'd said your side of it, Zoro just needed the right place and time to return your words.

"I want–"

There's shouting from down on the deck that snaps you both out of your little world you're in, and you sit up to look out the window, seeing what looked like a large fish tail and Sanji freaking out over something. You wonder what's going on, before looking at Zoro, who looks less than thrilled you two were interrupted.

"Something's going on! Let's go see!"

He doesn't fight or grumble while you grab his wrist and pull him up, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Maybe tomorrow I guess.

+!+

“What’s with the bird?”

You don’t even have the chance to untie the letter from your parents before Zoro asks, you just smile before petting your family’s carrier bird on her head, giving her a few scratches as she perches on your shoulder.

“My parents are wealthy, so they have their own carrier birds. We’ve had Chisa here since I was little, she brings me mail and letters all over, wherever I am she’ll find me.”

“Seriously? All of that just to flex their cash?” Zoro rolls his eyes when you nod with a small giggle, opening the latest letter you’d been sent by your parents.

Every one so far had been a demand to return home and “fulfill your duty” of marrying the man they’d chosen for you. It was ridiculous, you’ve let Zoro see a few of them, even though every letter says the exact same thing. The only one that had been different was a letter exclusively from Elias, telling you about his marriage because he knew you’d be happy for him.

You start to follow after Zoro as he attempts to lead you back to the town you’re staying at, not even sure why you’re reading the letter that’s most likely just their demands for you to come back, until you catch a new line in the letter that makes you stop in your tracks.

The second he hears your breathing pick up, Zoro stops and looks over his shoulder at you, eyes widening just a bit when he sees your shoulders shaking and it almost seems like you’re about to have a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he’s almost instantly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, Zoro knows he isn’t good at this stuff, but he’s got to get you to calm down, “What’s wrong? What’s in the letter?”

“I…I’m eighteen.”

“Yeah…? So what about—”

“Shit, shit, they’re gonna,” Zoro can barely keep you from hitting the ground while you crouch down, still holding the letter but putting your hands on your head to try and calm yourself down, “They’re gonna find me and force me to marry him.”

Zoro takes the letter from you while you start crying over your fears of being forced back home, reading the letter himself to see there’s some caveat in the agreement between your parents and alleged fiancé, where you’d be legally married soon after turning eighteen whether you had a wedding or not. Scowling, Zoro starts to rip to letter up, watching you fist your hair and close your eyes tight. Whatever you went through while dealing with this arranged marriage situation, it’s left a bad impression on you, he’d be surprised if you ever chose to get married one day because of it.

After a few minutes, Zoro helps you back up, holding your shoulders again, before trying to speak to you.

“What—"

“I can’t go back, I can’t!” Finally looking up at him again, you’re still in tears and griping his shirt so tightly, almost desperate for some way out of this arrangement, some way to keep from being found and dragged back there. “I won’t go back, Zoro, please, help me!! I can’t marry that man!”

What is he supposed to do? There’s very little chance your parents haven’t sent people out to find you, or sent your name and picture across government facilities that honor small village traditions, no matter how dark or outdated they may be. He doesn’t know what to do, this is so foreign to him! How is he supposed to keep you from marrying someone?

“I’ll marry you then.”

“W-What??” This isn’t what you expected for help, not even in the slightest. You don’t even think Zoro knew he was going to say that, or planned to, it seems like it just came out with no rhyme or reason.

But, it would fix the problem. If you married someone else, your parents couldn’t rightfully force you to marry someone else, whether they had chosen the person or not.

“I…” You shake your head, not wanting Zoro to feel like he has to do something, it’s not his job. All you’ve done is follow him the last year and a half, he’s not supposed to be your protector or anything like that, just a friend that let you go with him so you didn’t have to go back home, back to what you’ve fled. “We can’t! I mean, we aren’t—"

“If I marry you, will that keep them from forcing you home?!”

“I…I think so?”

Nodding, Zoro takes your hand off his shirt, watching you for any signs of rejection or if you want to say anything else. There’s something in his eyes, you don’t know what it is, you probably never will. But he holds your hand so tightly, keeping you from pulling away before he says it again.

“Marry me, [Y/N].”

For a moment, you don’t respond, wondering if Zoro’s screwing with you or not. But that’s not like him. You’ve only known him for about eighteen months, but you know that he would never joke around about something like this. He might be a little closed off still, but he would never play with someone’s feelings this way.

After another minute or so, you nod.

“I’ll marry you, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ve not thought about how Zoro offered to marry you in quite a while, the memory waking you up from a dead sleep in the village you’ve been in the last eighteen months. After receiving Luffy’s message about when to meet your crew again, you ended up staying in a village that excelled in training swordswomen, working your hardest every day and improving to the point very few of the other women even tried to spar with you.

Now I can’t sleep.

Sighing, you get up from your bed and go to the balcony in your little apartment you’ve been granted use of. Remembering the proposal that’s put you in this situation still, where you’ve been legally married for two years, have told Zoro--who was supposed to be your temporary husband--that you’re in love with him, and it seems like he might be starting to feel something similar towards you. It’s still all so strange, but it makes you smile while you watch the stars for a few minutes, silent prayers for your crew’s continued safety, and hopes that you and Zoro can make things work out.

“Happy anniversary, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ll be surprised to hear, one day in the future, that Zoro had the same dream about his impromptu proposal around the same time you did. He even realizes that it would’ve been your second anniversary at the time, give or take a few days, Mihawk doesn’t have a calendar or bother to keep him and the ghost girl up to date on what’s going on outside the island.

The dream isn’t enough to wake him the way it does you, but it does linger in his mind the rest of the day, even as he trains. It gets to the point that Mihawk stops him, asking what on earth could be distracting the twenty-one-year-old so badly that he’s making beginner’s mistakes, and Zoro decides to tell him, just to get it out there. Maybe that will help him clear his mind.

“Just… thinking about my wife.”

This earns a raised brow from Mihawk and a shout from Perona.

“A wife?”

“You’re married and never told us?!”

“You aren’t my crew!”

Perona sticks her tongue out at him, demanding answers about you and your marriage, questions Zoro refused to answer right now, before Mihawk interrupts them.

“I care not that you’re married. You can think about your wife later, focus on training now.”

Though Zoro knows Mihawk is right, he should be focusing on his training, thoughts of you and your strange marriage don’t leave his mind, despite his nodding.

“Right.”

I’ll talk to you soon then…[Y/N].

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |5|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

You swung your stick, the loud whack as it came in contact with Clarisse’s echoed through the early morning. You seemed to be the only two awake at the early hour. You had been hanging out with Clarisse and Silena while being stuck at camp. Most of your time was spent with Clarisse, training, and sparring. Sparring with your sisters was fun and you enjoyed kicking their butts but training with the same people every day for hundreds of years made their moves predictable. You liked a challenge, needed the challenge, winning wasn’t satisfying when there wasn’t a challenge. Winning didn’t mean anything if it came easily or if you had won against the same people so often, which is why Clarisse was so exciting, she was new to spar with and though you were vastly better than her, she was still good, she had skills and had managed to surprise you a few times.

You would train with Clarisse until Silena found the two of you and dragged you both away, usually to get something to eat. You watched how everyone at camp reacted to Clarisse, everyone was afraid of her, the way they would cower when she so much as glared at them. At dinner the night before, a kid had been walking by and dropped his spoon, Clarisse glared at him, and he had taken off running, forgetting his fallen spoon and dropping the rest of his plate in the process. But with Silena, Clarisse was different, she was still sarcastic, but she laughed and joked around more, she seemed lighter around Silena.

You didn’t like the way they were with each other, so touchy and friendly. You weren’t sure why you were feeling that way, you had never felt that way in your entire existence but whenever you saw Silena giving her a hug or smiling at Clarisse you didn’t like the feeling in your stomach. You didn’t think they lied when they said they weren’t girlfriends but at first you thought they were just in denial or oblivious, that they were best friends but would eventually figure out they liked each other in a romantic way.

As you watched them the last few days you saw that wasn’t the case, they really were just best friends. Clarisse was sarcastic and slightly less of an asshole to Silena, but she would support and defend her and listen to her drone on and on about something Clarisse clearly wasn’t interested in. Silena was the same, she wasn’t afraid of Clarisse like everyone else, she treated her like another person and would just roll her eyes when Clarisse said something snarky, she never let it dampen her mood and she was one of the only ones to call Clarisse out on her shit. Seeing Silena make heart eyes at Beckendorf helped solidify that her and Clarisse weren’t into each other.

You still did training with the other Hunters, but most were either taking care of Phoebe or they were doing training on their own. There were still a few times a scuffle between a Hunter and another camper would break out, but you were quick to neutralize it. They all clearly missed Zoe and Artemis, they all shared the same worry, but none of them seemed to have the same feeling of dread. It was hard to be with your sisters without your mind going to the worst-case scenario and feeling like not everyone would be returning from the quest. Hanging out with Clarisse was a nice distraction, your mind was still filled with worry for your goddess, but it wasn’t all consuming when you were in Clarisse’s presence.

Despite your distracted mind you still managed to block Clarisse’s final attack. The two of you had sparred with a variety of weapons and decided to go back to basics and use sparring sticks for the day. It was actually fun, not going at it like crazy trying to one up each other and just spar. She did try to trick you a few times, but you just smirked and blocked her, but she managed to block all of your blows as well.

Clarisse stepped back and the two of you were left panting, a nice coat of sweat on each of you. You followed Clarisse to the bench where the two of you sat your stuff. Each of you grabbed your water, then Clarisse grabbed the sticks and put them back in the shed with all the other sparring equipment. By the time the two of you were walking down the hill from the sparring area the rest of camp was just beginning to wake up. The two of you passed sleepy campers making their way to breakfast, the both of you continued to walk the opposite direction. You each had a granola bar and were done sparring before Silena got to you so she couldn’t make the both of you sit down and have a ‘real breakfast’ as she liked to call it.

You followed Clarisse through the woods until you reached the creek. “This is my favorite spot,” she said quietly as she pulled herself up onto a rock and plopped herself down.

“It’s nice,” you said, looking around. It was a relatively secluded spot, far enough away from camp that you couldn’t hear any of the noise from the other campers but close enough that the two of you shouldn’t run into any danger.

“Though I bet this is your usual surroundings,” she gave you a knowing look.

You couldn’t help but nod. “This would be the ideal spot for Artemis, it’s pretty perfect. We don’t always stay somewhere nice, even if we have our tents.”

“I don’t think I could ever take the oath, being a Hunter doesn’t seem overly appealing honestly.” You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “No offense,” she held up her hands. “But you guys seem to have it made, traveling all over, fighting monsters, that’s like the dream.”

“I mean it’s not all that glamorous,” you chuckled. “We’ve spent months tracking the same creature before, to the ends of the earth and back. I’m sure you have plenty of excitement here.”

“Yeah right,” Clarisse scoffed. “Besides my quest last year, the most exciting thing in my life has been going to an amusement park.”

You gave Clarisse a blank stare as you tilted your head. “What’s an amusement park?”

Clarisse broke out into laugh which only confused you more. Her laughter died down when she realized you weren’t laughing with her. “Wait, are you serious?” She asked through another chuckle. You could only nod. “You’ve been on this earth for like a thousand years. How do you not know?”

You shrugged. “I joined Artemis a thousand years ago. I’ve been with her ever since, we don’t usually spend time going to amusement parks,” you said the last words slowly as if it they were foreign words.

Clarisse blinked a few times as she processed the fact you truly didn’t know what she was talking about. “Don’t you guys ever like,” she waved her hand around to try gesturing, “interact with society?”

“We do,” you said defensively. “But Artemis doesn’t really like mortals, neither do the rest of the Hunters. If we need something in town, I’m usually sent to retrieve it. It’s always a quick trip.”

“So, you’ve never been on a rollercoaster?” You shook your head, scrunching your eyebrows once again at the new word. “You have to have seen one before.”

You could only shrug. Clarisse looked at you in disbelief before throwing her head back with a groan. When she was satisfied with her dramatics, she jumped right into explaining what a rollercoaster was, waving her hands in the air crazily as she tried to help explain it better when her words weren’t working. You were sure you only looked more and more confused as she continued explaining.

“Sounds like something Hephaestus would make,” you said after she was finally done.

“He probably has,” Clarisse said with a shrug. “You’ve really haven’t seen one?”

“I mean,” you bobbed your head back and forth as you tried to recall what she described. “Maybe? Definitely haven’t been on one or been to an amusement park.”

“Guess this means I have to take you to one some time.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You weren’t sure how that would ever work out, you didn’t get much free time and definitely not enough to go off and do something like that. When you and the Hunters weren’t tracking a monster, you were training or having a lazy day, no one really had time to go off and meet with someone else or do something on their own. You liked the sound of going to an amusement park with Clarisse though.

 The two do you talked until Silena came running up to get Clarisse. She was screaming Clarisse’s name until her eyes fell on the two of you. She froze, her mouth hanging open, you furrowed your brow not understanding what that look was for. You caught that look a few times from Silena like she was watching you and Clarisse, like she knew something the two of you didn’t but then she’d quickly hide it.

“Your brothers are fighting with the other campers,” Silena said, breathless.

“So?” Clarisse said, slightly annoyed. Clarisse tended to not get annoyed by Silena, but it was definitely clear she was not happy about being bothered.

“Clarisse,” Silena said sternly, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and got up from her spot on the rock. She walked over to Silena before turning back to you. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” She asked. She looked down at the rock, if you didn’t know any better you would say Clarisse was almost acting shy. You knew that wasn’t possible though, there was no reason for her to be shy about asking if you’d be at the bonfire.

“Of course,” you said, giving her a small smile.

You and Clarisse stared at each other for a moment, Silena’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you until she finally pulled Clarisse away. You watched them leave, a small blush appearing on your cheeks, you weren’t sure what caused it. You quickly brushed yourself off before making your way back to the cabin.

You didn’t realize how long you and Clarisse had been talking. The two of you started training before the sun was even up and didn’t stop until the early risers were beginning to wake. Walking back to the cabin you noticed all the campers awake, running around and doing various activities. The sun was high in the air and based on the position it was just a little after noon. You and Clarisse had literally talked for hours and yet it felt like no time had passed. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed talking to someone about anything and everything.

When you got back to the cabin you noticed all the Hunters up. Some of them were still lounging around the cabin but most seemed off around camp somewhere, most likely training. You gave Phoebe, who was resting in her bed, a nod. Phoebe was pretty much fully recovered but she still had no desire to hang around outside the cabin. She mentioned wanting revenge against the boys who gave her the shirt, but you reminded her Artemis ordered all of you to behave, despite really wanting to get revenge as well.

“Where were you?” Phoebe asked.

“Hanging out with Clarisse,” you answered as you flopped down on your own bed.

“You sure have been hanging out with her a lot.”

“She’s fun,” you smiled to yourself, giving Phoebe a little shrug. Phoebe just hummed causing you to sit up so you could look at her. “What?”

“You just,” Phoebe nodded her head back and forth as she tried to come up with the words she was looking for. “Don’t usually hangout with other demigods or anyone really.”

“We’ve been training together.” You gave her another shrug; you weren’t sure why you were getting so defensive over your friendship with Clarisse. “She’s a new challenge.”

“Okay,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m going to get food.” You watched her with scrunched up eyebrows as she walked out of the cabin.

You didn’t see Clarisse the rest of the day, but you also didn’t hear any news about any campers being maimed and Ares kids getting in trouble, so you assumed everything went well with Clarisse’s sibling. You spent part of the day in the cabin then the rest of it training with your sisters. With Artemis and Zoe not around, it was your job to make sure they stayed on top of things and to make sure all of you were ready to leave the second Artemis gave the word.

Before you knew it it was nighttime, and everyone was getting ready for the bonfire. You made your way to the bonfire with the rest of your sisters, laughing and joking around. The bonfire for the night was on the beach by the lake. As you stepped down onto the sand you instantly caught sight of Clarisse standing by the fire, talking to Silena. You sucked in a breath at the sight of her, watching how the fire cast a gorgeous glow around her. As if sensing your eyes on her she looked up, meeting your gaze. You both smiled at the same time and without another word to your sisters you made your way over to her.

“Hey,” you said. “Hi,” you looked to Silena.

“Hey,” Clarisse replied.

“Hello,” Silena said. You furrowed your brow, there was something in Silena’s tone and she tried to hide a smirk by quickly taking a sip of her drink.

“Everything work out with your brother?” you asked, nodding to her hand where you saw her knuckles already starting to bruise.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and nodded to a place across the bonfire. You followed her gaze and saw a son of Ares sporting a new blackeye. You couldn’t help but shake your head, silently chuckling. “He thought he didn’t have to listen to me,” Clarisse mumbled.

“It was actually kind of entertaining,” Silena added.

You sighed and followed the girls to a log near the bonfire. Clarisse sat in the middle, with you and Silena taking the spots next to her. You glanced around the bonfire, seeing it in full swing, campers grouped up laughing and joking or couples snuggled up together. You even saw a couple Hunters being cordial with some fellow campers.

“Did you know she’s never been to an amusement park?” Clarisse asked. When you turned to glare at her you saw her looking at Silena before turning to you, leaning back so you got a full view of Silena’s shocked expression.

“What!” Silena shouted, sloshing her drink onto the ground.

You just shrugged. “We don’t really go and do mortal things,” you said. “We don’t have much down time and when we do, we’re usually in the middle of the woods somewhere.”

“Not going to an amusement park is like never having seen a movie!” You titled your head and gave Silena a shrug. “What!” she shot to her feet causing you to lean back as other campers turned to look at the commotion. “How is that possible?”

“Like I just said-”

“You were literally around when movies were invented!” she held out her arms as if that would change the fact that you’ve never seen a movie.

You just shrugged. You turned to Clarisse for help, but she just shook her head. “Guess that’s something else we’ll have to do,” she said, smiling at you.

“Showing me my first movie,” you said, smirking. “The pressure is on.”

Silena let out a groan. “It’s going to be some boring action movie.”

Clarisse turned to her friend, offended. “Better than some lovey dovey rom com you’d choose,” she scoffed.

It was Silena’s turn to look offended. The two of them went back and forth arguing about rom coms and action movies and which was better. You couldn’t keep up and didn’t understand the majority of what they were saying. You thought they were screaming movie titles at one another, trying to prove their point, but you couldn’t be sure, some of the titles seemed weird. They continued to argue until Beckendorf came over, shyly asking Silena to hangout. You and Clarisse watched the two of them walk away, the backs of their hands lightly brushing against each other, both too nervous to make the move and hold the other’s hand.

You stayed next to Clarisse the rest of the night. Neither of you moved from your place on the log as you continuously engaged in conversation. Since learning you had never been to an amusement park or seen a movie, she was determining everything ‘normal’ as she liked to call it, that you missed out on and hadn’t experienced yet. She was making a list of everything she intended to show you and do with you. Every time a new revelation was made of something you hadn’t done, you pointed out something you had done that no one else had. She learned you hadn’t been to Disney World, even though you didn’t understand how that was different than an amusement park, you countered telling her about one of your hunts deep in a jungle where you came across an incredible waterfall.

She was mind blown you had never driven a car. She assumed, like Silena with movies, that you were around when the car was invented so you must have driven one. You pointed out that there has never been a reason for you to drive a car. You and the Hunters traveled with Artemis everywhere. If all of you needed to cross the country or go to a different country, you either walked or used non-mortal methods of transportation. You tried to argue that you had been on a boat, it wasn’t with other humans, but you had been on a boat. She said that didn’t count because when you were a kid boats and walking were the only means of transportation.

When there was a pause in your conversation you looked up, noticing most of the other campers and Hunters were gone. The fire was still going but it wasn’t as large as it had been during the beginning of the night, there was just enough left to light up your surroundings. The few campers that were left were either rubbing their eyes as they made their way back to their cabins or were falling asleep in the sand.

“Guess we got carried away,” you said. “Didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Yeah,” Clarisse whispered.

You turned to her, ready to suggest turning in but the words died in your throat when you caught sight of Clarisse. The dying fire illuminated the side of her face, creating a gorgeous golden glow. You noticed her eyes flick down, yours did the same motion, landing on her lips. You held your breath as the two of you began to lean in.

Your noses had just brushed when realization hit you, making you pull back just ever so slightly. Clarisse paused her movement when she noticed you pulled back. The two of you sat there, your noses barely touching. You closed your eyes, before letting your forehead touch hers.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

Before Clarisse could respond you abruptly got up. You didn’t look back as you rushed away, trying to put as much distance between you and her. You didn’t know if she understood, if she was hurt, all you knew was that she didn’t chase after you, and you were grateful for that. Your hands were shaking at the realization of what you just almost did. You couldn’t believe you had been so careless; you almost just threw away everything, your entire life.

Your conflicted and confused feelings were given so much clarity the second you walked away from her. You were attracted to Clarisse, you had been flirting with her, even if you hadn’t realized it, Phoebe had barely left the cabin and even she noticed it. You weren’t mad or hurt about Clarisse and Silena’s closeness when you thought they liked each other as more than friends, you were jealous. You were a Hunter of Artemis and for the first time in your thousand years of existence you had a crush.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world

[honeycomx]

Late Night Tip (3:15)

Stiles Stilinski x Black!reader

This story will contain… Cursing, Drugs, Drug Usage, and Smut. PROCEED WITH CAUTION 18+

a/n: Stiles is a bit of an asshole in this but kinda not, if you understand his reasoning. Idk, it’s up for you to decide. Plus this take place after season 3b and before season 4. And Listen to 3:15 by Russ.

⇣

Stiles had a secret no one knew about, not even Scott. And that was you. Boy, did Stiles love him some you. Contrary to what many people believed, Stiles wasn’t virgin. Before he had first slept with Malia, he had his fun with you. You had that boy wrapped around your finger, and if it weren’t for you wanting to stay friends with benefits, he probably would’ve put a ring on your finger.

But now, Stiles was at point where he wanted to be in a relationship. He wanted someone he could claim as his other half and be by his side. It would’ve been you, but you made it clear you didn’t want that right now. But Malia did. In fact, things between the two were getting quite serious. Especially since a night ago while the two were having, protected sex, she blurted out that he was her boyfriend. Stiles wasn’t sure how to react, he told her he thought they needed to give it some time before they rushed into things considering they have only started hanging with each other two months ago. Despite what he said, He did want a relationship plus him and Malia had built a great rapport with each other.

That has led him to his current dilemma, Malia had decided to be home with her dad tonight, since he complained about her staying out too much and his father was currently sleeping after a hard day of work. It was 1:00 in the morning and Stiles was awake. He was seated in his gaming chair, headset halfway on, as his fingers constantly tapped against the keyboard. In the middle of his battle, his phone starting vibrating violently against his desktop. Pausing his game, he reached for his phone. His heart immediately started racing as he saw your name coming across the screen. He hadn’t heard from you in two weeks since your last encounter, that thought alone gave him shivers. He knew it was wrong, since he was considering him and Malia being together but his rationale was that he didn’t verbally agree to it yet. The angel on his shoulder told him to ignore it, it was better to leave it where it stayed. But the devil was tempting him like Eve and you were the apple. He sighed, shaking his head at his next move, he cleared his throat before pressing the green button.

“Hello?” He asked in the phone.

“Hi Mitchie! I missed you.” You answered gleefully, making his stomach flutter. In those two weeks of your absence, he definitely missed hearing your nickname for him.

“I missed you too baby girl.” He replied, making your stomach flutter now.

“Sorry, I kinda ditched you for a while. My cousins were staying with me and taking up all of my time.” You explained remorsefully, hoping he’d accept your reasoning.

“It’s fine. I was kinda caught up in some things too.” He responded coolly, making you sigh in relief.

“Are you busy right now?” You asked.

“For you, never.” He replied smoothly, making you giggle and kick your feet like a schoolgirl.

“Come over then. I’m home alone and could use some company.” You knew he would, every time you called he would answer and be there.

“I’ll be over in 15.”

“I’ll be waiting, Mitchie.” You stated seductively, before the line clicked.

Stiles sighed, feeling his groin twitch, he knew it was shameful for someone to get this kind of reaction out of him from just a few words, but with his clouded mind, he could care less. He was thinking with his other head. Stiles quietly ran to his bathroom to brush his teeth, he was grateful he took a shower not to long ago. He grabbed his cologne, spraying a few pumps before tucking his phone and keys into his pocket. He slowly creaked open his bedroom door, not wanting to disturb his father or alert him of his departure, before tip toeing down the hall then the stairs and out the front door, making sure to lock and close it softly behind him. He made his way to his prized baby blue Jeep, parked just across the street. He unlocked his door before getting in, cranking his loud car, hoping his father didn’t hear before peeling off in the direction of your home.

The trip to your house was quick, seeing as he could speed due to the empty road and it only being a 10 minute drive from his. He pulled into your empty driveway, signifying that no one was home. There were times where your father’s car would be parked there, but Stiles deduced that he might’ve been at work. Stiles cut his car off before shooting you a text letting you know he was outside. Stiles sat back in his seat, staring out in thought while waiting for your response.

His mind wondered between you and Malia. He didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone at all. He loved being around you, even if majority of the time it was during the night. It was the way he saw your eyes lit up every time you saw him, they way y’all naturally clicked, how y’all shared similar interests. It was like y’all were a perfect match, or that was what he felt like. But with Malia it was different, he knew they had different personalities and interests, it wasn’t bad though he was all for learning and teaching new things. He liked how possessive Malia was over him, something about that turned him on. He thought her nonchalant and some clueless words and actions were just adorable. He genuinely liked Malia as well. Plus, the Pack was familiar with Malia and knew they were messing around. He nervously thought about how they’d react if he randomly brought you around, especially Malia, despite you knowing him longer.

Suddenly a rapid knock came from the passenger window, making Stiles violently jump. He sighed in relief seeing your bubbly expression through the glass. He reached over to unlock the door.

“You scared the hello outta me.” He said, looking at you incredulously as you climbed inside his car. To which, you lightly laughed at, picturing his scared reaction once again. In the midst of you laughing, you failed to witness Stiles bite lip as his eyes roamed your thick curves and it’s attire. The baby blue satin pajama shorts you sported, were being consumed by full bottom. Your button up was opened at the top, giving Stiles a beautiful view of your inviting chest being secured by a black lace bra. You were going to be the death of him.

“Sorry Mitchie,” You state apologetically, oblivious to his intense staring. Your words snapped him out of his raunchy thoughts.

“I wanna try something with you.” You announced before digging in the pockets of your pajamas, fishing out a small baggy, fill with a green substance.

“What is that?” Stiles inquired, face scrunching as it’s pungent smell hit his nose.

“Weed, my cousin gave it to me.” You answered, holding up the baggy higher for him to see. He took the baggy from your hands, inspecting the crushed up substance closely,

“What do you wanna do with this?” He asked curiously. You gave Stiles a ‘really’ look.

“Obviously smoke it. I want you to do it with me.”

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He stated, shocked by the news.

“I don’t but I caught my cuz smoking and she let me hit it. She said it supposed to make you feel horny and it does. Afterwards, all I could think about was you,” You explained casually. Stiles couldn’t lie, his stomach did backflips when you said that, though he kept his composure.

“But I couldn’t do anything about it until they left but she gave me some to try with you and some papers to roll it in. She said it should be enough for one blunt.” You continued, now showing him the neatly folded, white rolling papers.

As much as Stiles’s curiosity was peaked, he was hesitant. The most he ever did was drink, he never did drugs before. Of course, as a high schooler, he had multiple chances to but ultimately never did, it just wasn’t his thing.

“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to, I just thought I would ask.” You reassured, sensing his hesitation. You didn’t mind if he didn’t want to, the last thing you wanted him to feel was pressured. You, however, were still were going to though.

Stiles thought about his decision, weighting his options. He settled on dismissing his uncertainty, before declaring, “Fuck it, let’s roll up.”

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“Come on we’re going to my room.”

You both were sitting out on the small couch of your furnished bedroom patio with a throw blanket tossed over you both, while smoking the blunt. Your back laid comfortably on the pillow against the rail, with your feet resting on Stiles lap underneath the covers. Stiles scrolled the twitter, while absentmindedly rubbing your feet. It was your turn to hit, you slowly inhaled, holding it in before releasing with blow. Stiles had stopped halfway way through the blunt, which didn’t surprise you due it being his first time smoking. Surprisingly he didn’t cough on his first time, which was shocking. You were new to it too but he seemed to handle it better than you, though both of you were equally stoned. You placed the roach blunt in the empty cup, you and Stiles used to dump the ashes. You were out of your body, feeling everything yet nothing at the same time. Stiles felt similarly, the weed lived up to your standards, he was high and horny.

“I’m definitely buzzed. What bout you?” He asked putting his phone away, turning to face you, only to find you already staring at him intensely, your eyes low and red.

“Me too.” You retorted, pulling your perfectly pedicured feet from him.

“I feel it but I’m feeling other things as well.” You uttered, sitting up on your knees, pushing Stiles back into the couch before you straddled his lap. His sizable hands rested on your hips. You avoided kissing him, wanting to work him up first. You traced kisses lasciviously to his collarbone. Stiles lightly moaned and shivered, feeling your luscious lips against his neck. His hands made their way into your blue satin pajama bottoms, he groaned, feeling the absence of your underwear.

“You ready to go back inside?” He asked, clearly captivated by your actions, he was becoming hard as a rock. You pulled away from his neck, pecking him on his lips before nodding. You climbed from Stiles lap, standing, holding out your hand, which he graciously accepted. You pulled Stiles with you inside, toward your bed. You sat down on the plush comforter, with an insatiable looking Stiles standing over you, awaiting your next move. You tugged Stiles closer by the pull strings of his pajama pants, as the other unbuttoned your top the rest of the way. Your amorous gaze never left Stiles the entire time. You shrugged your top from your shoulders, letting in pool behind you, showcasing your see through bra. Stiles’s heart thudded heavily in his chest as he watched you, feeling all his blood rush below. You were satisfying his carnal desires, in the most teasing way and he couldn’t take it anymore. You let Stiles push you against the bed for you to lay back. You giggled at his eagerness before you were silenced by his lips meeting yours. You opened your legs, allowing him to nestle himself between your thighs as he hovered you. You gasped feeling his hard girth rest against your pussy. Stiles took that opportunity to sneakily slip his tongue in, effectively deepening your kiss. Your hands slipped up his arms to wrap yours around his neck, carting your fingers through the back of his hair. Stiles groaned, pulling away from your kiss, giving you both a chance to breathe. You both stared at each other with this wanting look. Both of you seemed to silently communicate, it wasn’t long before your soft plump lips met his soft bowed ones. This time, Stiles lifted up, you felt his fingers ghost your sides, causing you to quiver at his light touch. His hands found the front of your shorts, he began tugging your snuggle short down. You pulled away from the kiss, lifting your bottom to helping him remove them. You mouth gaped as you watched him descend to your leaking mound, which was still covered by your lace undies. He eyes found yours, making your heart thud faster. You whined as his tongue glided gently over you clothed clit, as he tossed the pajama bottoms from around your ankles. You wanted Stiles badly, He had your heart feeling like it was imploding. But the way you felt was more than just sexually you loved Stiles, and you wanted to tell him. You weren’t sure if it was your intoxicated mind but you felt the need to tell him before y’all went any further. Just as he was to part your legs open,

“Wait.” You exclaimed, gently pushing Stiles away from you. You set up from the bed, anxiously watching as Stiles’s half naked stand over, he casted you a concerned look.

“What wrong?” He questioned, clearly confused by your shut off, he tell you were anxious, your leg started jumping. You eyed him, little did he know you fighting a battle in your mind. Your previous thoughts of Stiles being just a fling had blossomed into something more. You were infatuated with him, you were internally praying that he felt the same.

Going against everything screaming fiber and nerve in your body, you spouted out, “Stiles I like you.” Your eyes meeting his. He saw as your eyes glimmered with hope.

Those four words, made Stiles’s mental crack. As much as he wanted to hear those words before, they also made him panic now. He struggled deeply to collect these three words, but ultimately he felt like it was for your own good.

“Y/N I can’t.” He stated, his head hanging in defeat, his eyes avoiding yours. He was feeling were more conflicted than before, he hadn’t thought you actually like him back. It was like his wish came true but right now, considering his circumstances, he couldn’t accept it, not right now.

That spark you had, dwelled instantly and was replaced with sadness and embarrassment. A ache in heart begin to form, you, now, thought you read the situation wrong. You forced your tears back, masking the hurt like a pro.

“Stiles I understand if you don’t feel the same way but I just couldn’t take it anymore.” You confessed, swallowing the large lump in your throat.

“You told me you only wanted to be friends Y/N.”He reasoned, looking at you with a remorseful expression. Unknowingly to him, his reaction added fuel to fire, that is the ache in your heart.

“I know but I tried. I tried to convince myself and I tried to remind you that I wanted to stay friends but I couldn’t help it. The more we started to see each other, the less we started being ‘beneficial’ and more like friends, I started to feel things I shouldn’t have,” You expressed, ignoring the painful burn behind your eyes.

“The last time we were with each other and you spent the night with me was the last time I was supposed to see you Stiles because I fucked up. I fell for you, I went against my own words, I knew I wasn’t supposed to but I couldn’t help it. I tried to stay away from you Stiles but I like being with you. The way you are, the way you smile and laugh, they way you kiss me and hold me, it does something no one else can do.” You elaborated further, letting months of feelings off your chest. You words made the pit of Stiles stomach ache, he wanted to say so much but couldn’t. Stiles knew it was wrong to get with you in the first place, you pulled him so easily into your current, it swept him away. He would love to be with you but he couldn’t risk pulling you into something that’s hard to get out of.

“I can’t do this right now.” Stiles grumbled, going for his discarded shirt.

“Stiles wait,” You called out, standing to stopping him from gathering his belongings to leave. You knew it was stupid, but you wanted to feel Stiles one last time, even though it wasn’t the way you hoped.

“Now I know how you feel. I just want be with you one last time. Please?” You pleaded, looking to the floor, trying to suppress your shame.

Stiles’s mind was running a mile a minute. Part of him knew he shouldn’t have came here but ultimately he couldn’t have himself either. He knew he liked you way before you realized you liked him. He was in love from the start. But he liked Malia as well, plus Malia knew about the supernatural world, and could protect herself. Seeing what he caused with Allison messed him up, no matter what anyone told him, he felt guilty because sacrificing himself to the Nemeton was his choice and many innocent people had gotten killed for it even one of his friends. He wouldn’t be able to handle life well if he’d known he brought you into something that had gotten you hurt.

So he stood in these few moments staring at you with confused expression, debating whether he wanted to leave of not. This was his second chance before he made another mistake.

You stood there watching Stiles watch you with this unreadable expression, you could tell he was thinking. Part of you knew you were fucked up for asking him to be with you one last time, after spilling your heart out, but you couldn’t hold out any longer. Given the reaction for Stiles, you were certain he didn’t feel the same way. He loved you for your body, not you. Tears started to fall from your eyes as your head dropped further in shame, that seem to snap Stiles out of his train of thought.

“Y/N” He tried, walking towards you but you moved back. You watery eyes met his, and through your quivering lips, you stated,

“Just leave then Stiles. It’s better if we leave it off like this anyways.”

Before your mind could register anything, Stiles’s shirt was at your feet and his lips met yours. Your defensiveness instantly faded away, you melted like butter against Stiles, immediately accepting his passionate kiss. Your lips moved to together sensually, as Stiles backed you up against the door of your closet. Your hands latched to the lining of his jaw, as his hands clasped firmly onto your hips, pulling your bodies closer. You both wanted the same thing in this moment, and it was to feel each other, even if it was for the last time. You just wanted to pretend everything didn’t happen before this, you wanted to live in the moment, you wanted savor what you could from this situation.

You felt his tongue ease its way into your mouth, causing you moan. You willingly accept his actions, following his lead. Your hands trailed to his brunette strands, gently combing through them, as you both made out. Then Stiles pulled away, a single line saliva connecting your lips. You greedily followed his lips with a whine. You didn’t want it to end. Then you felt his palms on the sides on your face.

“Do you want this?” Stiles asked gruffly, his large hands cradled your cheeks as he wiped the stray tears from your face.

Not trusting your words, you nodded.

“I need words baby girl.” Stiles affirmed. Your teary eyes finally meeting his watery ones.

“Yes Mitchie.” You whimpered out, staring longingly at his bowed lips.

You and Stiles clothes were scattered across the bedroom floor. You laid on your back on the bed, with kneeling between your legs. You cried out in pleasure, as Stiles’s reddened lips, slurped hungrily against your clit. You couldn’t believe Stiles had you folded like this, your feet were at your ears, his hands was tucked firmly on the creases behind your thighs. You bottom poked out in the air, as Stiles devoured you like it was his last meal.

“Stiles.” You moaned, scratching at the messed up bedding beneath you.

Stiles groaned, sending shockwave through your body, he soaked up everything that leaked from you. Your juices covered in and around his mouth, he wasn’t sure if it was the weed making him this thirsty or you were but his flittering tongue never left your pulsating clit and his mouth didn’t stop drinking from your delicious fountain. The euphoric burn that settle in your lower stomach spread and intensified. You reach out, pushing against Stiles shoulders,

“Fuck Stiles, I c-can’t.” You whined, tears coming from your eyes. “‘S too much!” You slurred drunkenly.

Your cries fell on deaf ears as Stiles had released one of your thighs, letting your leg drop. You sharply gasped, eyes rolling, back arching high as Stiles ease his two digits into your sopping entrance. As he alternated between dragging his thick fingers against your walls to french kissing your clit.

“I-I’m cu-” You tried to warn him but it was too late. You started shaking, your vision whiting out, your moans and whimpers were caught in your throat. The intense feeling took over your body, causing you to lock up, your thighs squishing his head as your quenching essence flowed into his awaiting mouth. You were seeing stars as Stiles released you, watching as your bottom half flopped back to the bed. You were completely spent, your box braids had fell from it’s perfect bun, now flowing aimlessly from your scalp, your bronze skin had a glazed look from the layer of sweat that coated it. In your mind, Stiles had you looking an absolute mess but to him you looked stunning. It made him impossibly harder looking at how out of it you were.

Stiles hissed as he slowly jerked his painfully hard dick. Thick droplets of precum oozed from his angry red tip. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer, your fucked out expression, the way you moaned his name, the way you tasted had him stuck, like he had you.

He watched your dazed eyes meet his dark and lustful ones. Stiles placed a single kiss to your overly sensitive clit, making you twitch and whimper, before placing a gentle one to your full lips.

“You okay?” He asked, trailing sensual kisses along your rounded cheeks to your neck, all while layering his slender form overtop of your thick one, his arms cradling your head.

“Yes Mitchie.” You mewled breathlessly, arms wrapping around his neck. You were wondering how every little touch this man gives you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Good.” He placed one last kiss to your neck before sitting up. He placed your legs on his shoulder before pulling you to edge of the bed. You groaned, feeling his harden dick onto of your throbbing mound. You braced yourself, Stiles had this dark glint in his eyes, you had strong feeling he was going fuck up your feeling more than they already were. You held on tightly to the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white from the grip.

You shuddered, feeling Stiles drag his thickness between your slippery folds. It was seconds later that you felt his thick mushroom tip push into your hole, making you practically boneless as a shaky gasp left your lips. A strangled groan left Stiles lips as he tossed his head back in pure bliss, savoring the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He moaned. He pushed yours legs back further, hooking his arms underneath, pinning you down with his weight, sinking his thick harden inches fully into your saturated cunt.

“Stiles!” You wailed, clinging to his biceps, slightly clawing at them. The slow yet sudden intrusion, left you with a full feeling you couldn’t shake. He groaned loudly as your body graciously welcomed him.

His lips found yours in a fiery passion as his he set his pace, his restraint vanished. You felt his teeth gently tug at your lower lip, he way of telling you to open up to him, which you obliged. The sounds coming from the searing tongue filled kissed, as well as the small grunts and moans that escaped you both, were masked by the creaminess of your purring kitty. Stiles was feeding off of every sound you produced, the way you clung to him as he were going to disappear, all while he stuffed you full of every inch he had to offer.

Stiles broke the kiss, his redden half lidded eyes watched as you tried hang on as his hips speed up. You squeaked, eye squeezing shut from the overwhelming stimulation.

“Oh shit.” You weakly cried, parting your kiss swollen lips. You couldn’t breathe, the way Stiles’s heavy phallus consistently pummeled into you quivering soaked snatch left you unable to breathe. You whined, feeling Stiles at your neck, softly suckling and nibbling on your sensitive skin. You hands moved to grasp the back of his head, pushing him further into your neck. Stiles took the initiative to move his kisses down further to your bouncing breast, Stiles looked memorized by movement. Stiles arms moved from behind your legs, he guided them around his waist, his nimble pace never stalled. His hands gripped your bobbing tits harshly causing you to yelp. Your darkened areolas resembled the richest of chocolates to Stiles in that moment. He couldn’t resist greedily sucking them both in his mouth. Your back arched high from the bed, moaning, as you continued to cradle his head while he practically ‘fed’ himself from your ample breasts. His skillful tongue alternated between sensually fondling each of your hardened peaks, adding on to the immense pleasure he was already providing by deliciously pounding into you. He released the one in his mouth with a soft pop.

“You look so beautiful,” he rasped, trailing his kisses back to your exposed neck. You moaned weakly at his praise, it made the fervent feeling in your stomach spread.

“Taking me so well like a good girl.” He growled, grinding his narrowing into you. You mewled loudly, eyes shutting, at the feeling of his pelvis stimulating your clit, while he dug deeper into your velvety canal. The feeling that emerged strongly in your stomach had grew more fierce, the more he plunged himself deeply inside you.

“You’re a good girl. Right?” He voiced huskily, watching the aesthetic beginning of your debauched undoing. You were too out of it to give a full response, you could only muster a frail nod despite the grip of your arms and legs around his waist and shoulders tightening.

Stiles tsked, placing teasing kiss to your lips, wanting your attention back on him. You whined slightly, falling for his trap, your teary low eyes found his deep brown ones. “You know I don’t like that. I need words babygirl.” His pace slowed slightly, you knew it was his way telling you to speak or he’d stop.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered out quickly, not wanting him to let up. Stiles groaned feeling you squeeze him tightly.

“You’re my good girl. Aren’t you?” Stiles pressed further, watching you start to squirm. Stiles felt you clutch around him once again like a vice. You head shook from side to side, at the almost unbearable feeling of Stiles’s fucking into like his life depended on it. His words didn’t help either, you ignored the ‘my’ for own sake, not wanting to ruin this earth shattering moment. Instead you focused on reaching your impending high.

“Stiles please! I-I” You croaked before words had gotten caught in your throat. Tightening in your stomach finally snapped. You let a broken moan, tucking your head in the side of Stiles neck, as you drug your acrylic nails down the side of his bicep, clinging tightly as you trembled violent over the edge, body locking up.

“Shit!” You heard Stiles cursed through your muddled hearing. You felt an ungodly amount of slick gush from you, coating Stiles completely. He groaned continuing to fuck you through your release. You whined weakly, pushing against Stiles moving hips, causing him to stop. He watched you lay motionless beneath him, eyes shut and breathing heavily, completely spent from cumming.

You felt Stiles lips on forehead before he eased his hard on from you. You hissed at the feeling of him dragging himself against your overly sensitive walls. As weak and out of it as you were, you complied when Stiles asked you to turn over, he helped you do so.

“Ass up, baby girl.” Stiles commanded, tapping your behind. You feebly moaned, despite your exhaustion from your second mind blowing orgasm, you listened to his command. You grasped the sheets underneath, wearily resting your head on your arms, arching the middle of your back, poking your butt out.

Stiles groaned upon seeing how exposed and drenched you were. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he positioned himself at your heated entrance, and without a warning he pushed himself in.

You shuddered and groaned feeling Stiles ease himself into once again, stretching you to the brim. Stiles sighed seeing you greedily swallow him whole. Gripping your hips in place, Stiles started moving his slowly, giving you time to adjust.

You whined feeling Stiles, once gentle and slowed pace, start to gradually increase, his hips started battering against your pillowed bottom. Stiles grunted, his grip on your hips tightening, surely going to some bruising, as he fucked harder into you. The sounds of thunderous wet clapping, a mixture of pleasured sound coming from both you and Stiles, and the concerning rattling of your bed frame, echoed through your room.

Stiles peels one hand from your hip, to wipe his sweaty strands from his forehead. He moaned feeling you constrict tightly around his length. The tightness in his stomach grew with thrust of his hips, and from the way you start clenching around him and the heightened frequency of your melodic moans and loud pants, told him you were feeling the same.

He pressed his free hand in the middle of your back, deepening your arch. Stiles’s thrust became deep and erratic. He put his weight behind his thrusts as he leaned over you, groaning and breathing heavily in your ear. You squealed loudly, trying to push yourself from the intense feeling.

Stiles huskily chuckled in your ear, he leaned back up while gripping your hips, “Where you going?” Stiles asked, holding you tightly in place. You babbled aimlessly in response. He chuckled at your state. Your mind was clouded, you heard what he said but couldn’t respond.

Stiles hips didn’t falter as he gathered your braids into one hand, holding it in a ponytail. “Stiles!” You pleaded as he tugged you to your hands and knees by you long braids, pulling you back towards his thrusts.

“Come on sweetheart, you know what to do.” He stated, halting his movements. Immediately you started thrusting yourself back onto his length. “Fuckkk.” Stiles dragged out in ecstasy, as you fucked yourself onto him. The way your ass rippled like waves against his pelvic as you moved, building up a creamy froth around the base of his dick, as you cried out, head tilted back, in complete euphoria. To him, it was picture worth painting.

“Mitchie, I’m ‘bout to cum!” You keened, feeling the familiar burn twist in your lower stomach. Little did you know, he was too.

“Me too.” He rasped, gripping your cheeks tightly. He started meet your thrusts again, only this time his thumb started massaging your other hole. You gasped feeling his thumb caress your asshole, it sent a exhilarating tingle up your spine.

You both worked with each other, chasing your awaiting release. Stiles rutted faster into you, feeling his high coming on strong. He moaned loudly, as the knot in his stomach started to peak. You chased your orgasm like a bitch in heat, the volume of your moans grew, like the pending explosion in your stomach.

Stiles was close, too close. He wanted you cum first. His fingers found their way to your pulsing clit, gently stroking the sensitive nub, pushing you closer to the edge. You hummed in delight, feeling him stroke you closer to your peak in every way. Then, unexpectedly, the thumb he used to massage your virgin hole, eased inside of you, effectively opening your flood gate.

You wailed, feeling the burn in your stomach burst, your climax hit you like a freight train as your vision blurred out. Stiles cursed feeling you grip him tightly. Your gushing slick coated Stiles’s shaft, as you trembled from the magnitude of your orgasm. Your top half collapsed, not being able to hold yourself up any longer. Stiles panted loudly, erratically pounded into you, pursuing his brewing end, fucking you through your intense orgasm. You whine in overstimulation, the feeling of him dragging against your walls was starting to become too much, you needed him to cum, or you would surely pass out. You mustered up enough strength to move.

“Cum for me, baby,” You muttered softly, moving you hips against his to help him finish.

Stiles whimpered loudly, the flame in the pit of his stomach intensified. He was teetering over the edge.

“I want you to fill me up.” You whined, feeling him throb heavily inside your aching walls. That statement was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I-I” Stiles stuttered, unable to finish his sentence, before groaning loudly, his cum shooting in your canal in thick loads. You moaned tiredly, stop the movement of your hip, the feeling of Stiles seed permeating your walls made you quiver. Stiles shuddered before collapsing on your back, completely spent. Your body fell flat to the bed underneath his weight.

You both stayed like that for a while, trying to level your breathing. Stiles had softened inside you by the time, y’all breathing regulated. He lifted his sticky body from yours, his body feeling extremely weak and heavy, from either the weed or the mind-blowing sex you just had. Stiles could you body rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

“Y/N?” He called out, look at your face to see if you were awake. You weren’t, your eyes were glued shut as your mouth hung open slightly. Stiles smiled softly at your peaceful expression. He smile soon faded as he realized he fucked up with you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Everything that conspired this past year, has left Stiles’s damaged. He had trouble eating and sleeping, his mental health was deteriorating. Had he known going out in the woods that night would’ve lead him to these deadly consequences, he wouldn’t have went. All this started because of him, and he couldn’t regret it more. But you, you were his escape from it all, you were his peace. Whenever he needed to be away from all things supernatural, you were there to put him at ease. And as he stared at you, he felt guilty, tears started brewing in his eyes as he now realized, once again, that his actions have consequences. He felt like a fuck up. And those revelations made him realize he had to go. He couldn’t bare watching you be heartbroken over him.

You whimpered in sleep, feeling him ease his flaccid appendage from you. You didn’t feel the mixture of his spend and your slick, leak out of you. Stiles pushed away his egregious thoughts, he went to your attached bathroom, grabbing a fresh linen cloth and towel from the closet, making sure to wet cloth with warm water. He knew from the light snores that sounded from you, that you were out for the night. The least he could do was get you cleaned up. You didn’t even budge as he opened you legs and wiped you clean and patted you dry. Stiles was depleted on all levels, he just wanted to go to bed and try to forget all the bad. He fished his clothes from the ground, tossing on his Star Wars graphic tee, boxers, and pajama pants.

As he went to gather the rest of his belongings, the sound of his phone vibrating from pants made him reach for it. He finally looked at the time, it had been a little after 2 since he last looked at the time, It was 3:15 in the morning. She then looked at the message, it was Malia asking if he was up. He looked back at your sleeping form, guilt was starting to eat at him bad.

He sighed stuffing his phone back into his pocket, choosing to ignore her text. He started straightening up, making sure to lock your patio door, and clean up any evidence of y’all smoking. He slid your silk bonnet over your freshly braided scalp, he knew you’d be upset if you woke up to you hair being messed up. He also turn on the fan, knowing you get hot at night. He glanced at your sleeping form, longingly before placing one last kiss to your forehead while covering your nude body with your blanket.

He gathered his keys and slipped on his shoes before making his way out of your home, securing it, then getting in his car, driving away like a thief in the night…

⇣

Please be nice, this is my first time writing smut so I hope I did well and excuse any mistakes I didn’t see👍🏾. Anyways, this post will a receive an update, which I already started writing. So part 2 coming soon…

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm a teen aspiring author. I live in a house with three children and my walls and door are not very soundproof. Do you have any tips to get focused not by reducing distractions but getting focused while still being in the middle of chaos?

Focusing Despite the Chaos

Even if you can't eliminate distractions, it's still worth trying to minimize them, so I want to start there... then I'll get to what to do if you can't. Here are some things you might be able to try...

1 - Minimizing Noise - In a perfect world we could all afford a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones, but there are other ways to minimize the noise that reaches your ears. For example, many convenience stores and stores with pharmacy areas sell packets of disposable ear plugs for just a few dollars. These can reduce noise enough to make it less distracting, so definitely worth a try.

2 - Utilize Continuous Sound/"Noise Colors" - Continuous sound, like the deep rumble of a waterfall or the gentle roar of heavy rain, falls on a spectrum called noise colors. White Noise covers all frequencies equally, so it provides a soothing background hum that can help to minimize other sounds. You can find white noise generators via different apps and places like YouTube or web sites like A Soft Murmur. Or, you can put on a loud fan, air purifier, air conditioner, etc. Pink Noise is a little softer, like the fall of gentle rain, so this might be something like a fan on a lower setting. Brown noise is a step lower than that, like the ambient noise you get from having the window open on a quiet but breezy day. White, pink, or brown noise can be a great way to reduce the impact of chaos coming from the rest of the house.

3 - Put on a YouTube Ambience Room - YouTube is absolutely bursting with "ambience rooms" and channels dedicated to study music, sleep music, relaxation music, etc. These can be a fantastic way to promote focus, not only because they give you something steady to listen to, you can often find things that gel thematically with whatever you're writing, which can help you block out other distractions.

4 - Try a ZenWare Writing Program - OmmWriter, ZenWriter, Focus Writer, and others provide features that help you focus on your writing, such as simple interfaces, special typing sounds, white noise and sound generators, and word counters. These are not typically free but are usually reasonably priced.

5 - Shift Your Writing Time - Even a chaotic house has its quiet times. It could be early in the morning before everyone else is awake, late at night after everyone else is in bed, during mealtime, or when everyone is away. Pay attention to when the chaos is at its lowest each day and try to utilize those times for writing if you can.

When you can't minimize the chaos...

Any combination of the above tactics can still be great ways to help you focus a little more, even if it doesn't really reduce the noise or chaos. Just having things like a special screen or special audio to focus on can help you mentally block out distractions. To some degree, it's something that takes some trial and error--to see which tactics work for you--and practice. I know writers who can write on plans, trains, buses, car rides, in the middle of busy places... it's just something they did out of necessity and got good at with time. You will, too. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[twstjam]

Unforeseen

HAHA it's not a Matcha fic if it isn't edited and posted at 2-3 AM amirite I don't know what this is I was just brainrotting about Malleyuu + Yuu and Sebek friendship + my take on post-NRC and this is what came out of it. I INITIALLY planned to only write the first and last parts but then my brain decided that it would be a good idea to come up with all the other shit in between and now this mess exists 👍 This also features a few theories and hcs based on Book 7 Chapter 4 lore, like how Malleus hatched and how Draconia babies are made. Summary: Sebek goes missing and with Malleus's first child with you on the way the prince is anxious about the affects of unexpected events on his family and the future.

----

There aren't many things that can scare a dragon.

But then correspondence from Sebek's party stops, and Malleus swears his blood freezes.

He's sure he wears out the floor with his pacing, blood humming with restless surges of magic and throat hot with the urge to release fire as he waits with patience that wears thinner by the hour. Silver stands in the doorway, the disapproving gaze he'd imagine on his father reflected exactly on the guard's face as he tells Malleus to go to bed.

Malleus would laugh at the irony if he didn't instead begin to worry about the emptiness he'd leave next to his spouse if he remains awake until dawn again. Well, not that you'd be entirely alone.

Your arms are encircled around a massive black egg, held close to your chest like you used to do with the monster cat curled up against it. Grim rumbles like a motorboat, the only sound that remains when Malleus enters the bedroom and all conversation is halted.

You sit up, not without keeping some part of you touching the egg in some way, eyes alight with hope. Malleus's heart sinks at the way your expression falls at the frown he wears.

Referring to you and Sebek as "close" would be an understatement. Since your first day at the castle, the both of you have practically been attached at the hip, falling back into the familiar roles of your years together as students at Night Raven College. Malleus would call it an imitation of Sebek's excessive devotion to him back in those years if it weren't more personal; the two of you are often whispering secrets or nonsense, laughing, bantering, and smiling with each other despite your roles as guard and master. It's nothing like how Malleus is guarded and he sometimes finds himself feeling the ugly curl of envy at the thought.

Malleus can't fault Sebek for keeping his distance. He knows that his role as the future king forms a boundary between them that cannot and should not be crossed, but that doesn't mean that Malleus is any less upset about it.

Sebek isn't with you now though, and neither is he with Malleus, nor Silver. Malleus remembers a time like yesterday (at least to him) when Sebek would sob upon being torn from Malleus's side, but he recalls that on the day of the guard's departure, he had been insistent. Dedicated, as always, to anything and everything that would keep his lord and friend safe. You'd hugged him goodbye and waved him off cheerily, grin wide as you shouted at him to "Don't forget the souvenirs!"

"I'm doing reconnaissance, not going on a vacation," Sebek had groaned when you'd told him the same thing prior, shooting Silver a glare when the other man had muttered under his breath, "Seven knows you need one." He had redirected it, tired and pleading at Malleus when the prince had laughed.

(Malleus tries to remember what it was like; laughing. When he had lamented this aloud, you had called him a Drama Queen, but that doesn't mean you're any less worn with worry even if you don't share his admittedly exaggerated sentiment.)

"We should just go look for 'im!" Grim grouches, disguising his own worry behind drained patience at everyone's trepidation. He's practically your other half, (and more in tune with your feelings than Malleus is, he'd begrudgingly admit.) so he's as tied to Sebek as you are.

""We"?" Malleus questions sharply at your nod of agreement.

"The longer we go without a word from him the less I think I can wait, Tsuno," you plead. Malleus looks down at you understandingly, but his eyes are sad as he places a careful hand on the egg nestled in your arms. Guilt crosses your face, but the determination remains in your eyes.

"Stay with the egg," you tell him with finality, but if anyone can fight you on this it's Malleus.

"I care for Sebek, truly." Malleus cuts you off when you open your mouth to argue that I didn't say you don't— "But I will not risk the chance of our child growing without either of us by their side."

It's something that he has a firm stance on and you know that you can't ever argue with it, even if you're not willing to give up the vision in your mind of both Silver and Sebek also being by their side when they hatch. You curl up around the egg further, resigned, even as you murmur, "What do we do, then?"

"We wait," Malleus says, apologetic as he gathers his child, the love of his life, and their cherished animal companion in his arms. He curls his tail around them protectively despite his family being in the safety of his arms and his nest. He can feel Grim vibrating with unrelenting purrs against his chest, the furry little beast squishing his face against the egg as he kneads little biscuits over its curved surface. You settle with your head against Malleus's chest, dissatisfied but resigned.

----

Malleus watches you shriek when you lay your eyes on Ace and Deuce right before you bowl them over to the floor in excitement and he knows he made the right call inviting them to the castle.

Few humans ever set foot on the castle floors, not many fae keen on just the idea of it, but Malleus is the future king and he can do whatever the Hell he wants and that includes letting your friends come over for a few days to cheer you up, traditions be damned.

With Ace and Deuce around, the castle is alive in a way it hasn't been in weeks. It's not just a product of their making but yours as well, the three of you along with Grim at your heels always up to something in the castle when you're all together. Malleus is more than happy to watch over the egg as you catch up with your friends, but that doesn't mean he's free from your attention any less.

"How much longer is it gonna take for it to hatch?" Ace says in both amazement and curiosity while Deuce tries to wrap his head around the concept of a magically conceived and hatched egg (It's not really that complicated. Malleus can't understand what might be so confusing about it.). They're both standing around the egg at a distance but still closer than anyone else you and Malleus have allowed in the unborn heir's presence.

(That is, if he doesn't count Silver and Sebek.)

"Like, half a year, or something like that." You tilt your head up at him for confirmation. "Right?"

"Indeed," Malleus crows proudly, hand smoothing over the egg's shell. Grim hops up onto Malleus's lap and rubs up against the egg, butting up into Malleus's palm when he raises it to pet him. You smile with excitement, lips pulled between your teeth as you hop in your seat across from them.

"I can't wait," you chirp, linking your arms with your friends' and bouncing them along with you. "You guys have to be there when it happens, so make sure you've got nothing going on."

"Oh, you bet," Ace laughs, eyes shining with mirroring eagerness.

"Are you kidding? Like we'd miss your kid being born! Uh.... hatched?" Deuce muses.

Malleus hums, pleased at their assent, hands cradling the egg's sides lovingly. Along with Ace and Deuce, you were also planning to invite your other old friends from NRC to witness the hatching, which Malleus had agreed to without missing a beat.

Though he hadn't even been a minute old, Malleus remembers his own hatching. He doesn't think he can ever forget it; the overbearing loneliness as he broke the shell and gazed into tearful red eyes. Despite the waves of love that had urged him to come out, the room had been so empty except for the fae that had coaxed him out of his eggshell.

Malleus doesn't wish for such an experience to ever be known to his children.

He knows the image you see in your head of your child's hatchday, can see you proudly presenting his heir to the eager eyes of your friends. He can see them all now, gathered around you with the privilege to lay eyes on the future ruler of Briar Valley before anyone else; Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho... and Sebek.

Malleus's fingers curl, claws lightly scraping against the shell of his child's egg.

Sebek will be there. He knows that you haven't given that up in your mind, and neither will he.

----

Malleus still remembers the day, a year or so ago, when the two of you had finally announced that an egg had been successfully conceived.

His grandmother was the first to come see it, of course. She had manifested, eyes wild and frantic, in a burst of green flames. She at least had had the decency to appear outside of his and your chambers instead of coming right in, but the moment Malleus opened the door to greet her she was brushing right past him.

It was the first time you and Malleus (and possibly anyone really) had seen Briar Queen Maleficia so emotional. You had awkwardly patted her back in an attempt to soothe her surging emotions, but it had instead gotten you pulled into a stifling hug that had you breathless. Malleus had watched with both amusement and tears in his eyes as his grandmother murmured "thank you"s to you over and over on repeat while you reached for him with your arms, silently begging for assistance.

After that, it was time to introduce the egg to the rest of his family.

Though it wasn't her egg, Maleficia had to be convinced to allow other people close to it, relenting with a pout. She remained in the room though, so when you had returned with Silver and Sebek in tow, her presence was the first thing that they registered. Sebek had gotten so caught up with stuttering formalities that he didn't even notice the egg for a full five minutes.

Everybody else in the room were already prepared for when he finally did, hands held over ears round and pointed alike as he screeched in surprise.

"An egg! You have an egg?!" he'd screamed in disbelief. You'd laughed as he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you. "I'm not dreaming, am I?! Please tell me I'm not—!"

"You're not—!!!" you'd shouted, and the two of you had both shrieked with glee as Sebek picked you up and spun you around the air. He had chanted his congratulations while you vigorously repeated "Thank you!"s.

He had put you down awkwardly when he remembered again that Maleficia was in the room, clearing his throat and recollecting his composure while you continued to giggle. His joy was so infectious though that it even had Maleficia cracking a smile despite being in the face of some of her subjects.

"Do I not get a hug also?" Malleus had tried to be lighthearted but he couldn't help the pout on his face. Though he was reluctant and still alert to presence of the queen, Sebek had relented and given him the privilege. It wasn't anything like the hug he had given you, but it was meaningful and personal nonetheless. Silver had joined at Malleus's beckoning and the prince had held them both close, so many words of relief and gratitude going unspoken but communicated between the three of them nonetheless through one shared gesture.

Malleus had looked up at the quiet shuttering of a ghost camera and saw you show a polaroid to his grandmother with a proud grin.

"Could you perhaps make a duplicate of that for me?" she had mused.

----

Malleus is unsure if Ortho's surprise visit to the castle could be considered a pleasant one. Perhaps, if it were under different circumstances. Perhaps, if he had returned with Sebek and he wasn't practically painted with injuries.

Malleus was in the middle of his duties when he had found out. He had been discussing with the council the search itself for Sebek and his party when a member of the castle staff burst through the door and unceremoniously interrupted the meeting. They were quickly forgiven when they'd frantically informed him that Sir Zigvolt had finally returned.

Malleus had torn through the halls in a billow of black robes, legs carrying him thoughtlessly to his destination, eyes like green spotlights in the dimly-lit halls. The servants parted and made way for him wordlessly.

When he finally arrives, both you and Grim are already there, sitting by Sebek's bedside and on his lap respectively while Ortho hovers at his other side. Malleus is momentarily relieved that you'd been informed first, but then he sees the state Sebek is in and he's next to you in an instant.

Sebek's slit pupils dart to him for the briefest second before looking away with a grimace. He seems to sink further into the pillows cushioning his back at his sitting position, shame evident in his eyes and the way his lips are twisted in a way that morphs the cuts and bruises on his face.

"My liege—" he rasps, and the fire in Malleus's chest roars and pulls.

"Silence," he commands, a little too sharply and it aches how Sebek shrinks further into himself. Malleus sucks in a breath and forces himself to calm down. He sits down on the bed, holds out his hand, and speaks, softer this time, "Be still."

Sebek opens his mouth to retort but you shoot him a reprimanding look that has him going quiet again. Malleus notices how Sebek doesn't retreat from you and he feels that familiar pang of jealousy again.

Now is not the time for such trivial matters, boy. Your family is hurt. a voice chides him in his head. He holds his hand over Sebek's face, and though the halfling twitches slightly in discomfort, he closes his eyes to the warmth of Malleus's magic as his injuries begin to heal.

As Sebek relaxes, the tension easing further out of him as his pain fades away, Ortho begins to explain what had happened, how he had found Sebek, and why.

As it turns out, the treacherous group that Sebek's party was sent to observe was also being investigated by S.T.Y.X.. Sebek and his group had gotten ambsuhed and captured— At this, your hand tightens further around Sebek's much larger one. It draws Malleus's attention, and a low growl escapes him at the redness of iron burns peeking ever-so-slightly from beneath Sebek's sleeve.— and when Ortho had discovered this, he had gone in and rescued them as fast as he could. Sebek's injuries had been worse, apparently, and there was only so much Ortho could do with his built-in medical procedures in such a short amount of time.

The young humanoid seems to sag defeatedly at this, but you're quick to reassure him that "No, you did great. I mean it, Orr. Thank you."

Even Sebek had opened his eyes to shoot Ortho a reprimanding yet grateful look.

"I can confirm. I might not be here currently if it were not for your action, Ortho."

Ortho's eyes go wide at this and he scrubs at them with the heel of his palm as dribbles of liquid stain his cheeks.

"Y-You're going to activate my crying simulation again, Sebek!" he chokes out. He suddenly looks up, teary eyes meeting Malleus's, and Sebek looks like he wants to stop him from speaking but he's too late as Ortho blurts out, "I hope you are not disappointed in him, Malleus Draconia, though I don't think that you are! Regardless, you should know that Sebek was really cool, even though he was the one being rescued! He was suffering from severe iron burns and yet he stood up to the enemy captain anyway and bit his arm off when he tried to grab me! It was like he was the hero!"

An embarrassed blush spreads over Sebek's cheeks at Ortho's retelling, his flustered gaze suddenly finding interest in Grim's silky fur beneath his fingers. Despite his demeanor, his voice is as sure as ever as he says, "Well, of course I couldn't just stand there and let you be hurt after all the trouble you went through because of my blunder!"

At this statement, Malleus turns to him questioningly. "Sebek—"

"It was due to my shortcomings that we were captured, Lord Malleus," Sebek admits, shamefully and yet boldly as he looks up to finally meet his master's eyes. "It was my fault. The solution was so simple. If only I had...." Sebek's brow furrows in frustration, his fists clenching, the one holding your hand wrapping around your fingers fiercely. "If only I was—"

"Sebek," Malleus says, gently yet firmly, a mere mimicry of your reassuring tone, but it works to cut Sebek off before he begins his tangent. "That does not matter."

His hands draw downwards, brushing against yours before carefully wrapping around Sebek's wrists. Sebek inhales sharply at the sting of contact but eases again at the warmth of healing magic.

"What matters now is that everyone is safe. Is that you are safe. That you have returned to us."

He knows it's selfish. As prince, he knows it's unfair and unwise to be so forgiving of one of his guards' failures— A single wrong move could mean the downfall of the entire kingdom, after all— but Malleus finds that he doesn't care. He finds that, with Sebek back in the safety of the castle, with his family— All of his family— back in the safety of his arms, he doesn't care.

After weeks of worry and weariness and heavy thoughts of paranoia and doubt, Malleus for the first time feels a weight lift off his shoulders and it's like he can breathe again. He remembers again the feeling of relief.

Your hand that's not holding Sebek's reach for one of Malleus's. He accepts it gratefully, looking down to return your equally relieved smile, but when he meets your eyes, the expression on your face is not what he expects.

Instead of warmth, instead of anxiety flooding out of you and tears gathering in your eyes, your expression is cold and detached; eyes distant, lips pulled firmly into a thin line, and brows fighting to not draw down in what he knows would be the most fearsome glare he's ever seen in his years of living.

There aren't many things that can scare a dragon, but right now, as he watches you, the barely-restrained fury on your face  and the chilling desire for damnation in your eyes, Malleus feels the fire in his chest snuff out, retreating to make way for the real beast.

[cheesecakeislazy]

JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS BECAUSE FUCK YOU! (Jk I love you and hope your life is great)

1. Him and BeN are besties for life, ride or die, would suck the poison out of each others dicks (not gay though)

2. Jeff has eye drops on him 24/7 so he doesn’t go fucking blind

3. Jeff has anger issues, one moment he’s chill as fuck and then EJ told him something that pisses him off- and now there’s a stab wound in Toby, a hole in the wall, and an angry Slenderman.

4. Jeff is totally straight. He totally thinks boobs are awesome. And totally only boobs. (He’s bisexual and swears on god he’s straight.)

5. He wakes up at 2 pm because he hates being awake in the mornings

6. He’s a metal head. He blasts music from his room so loud you can hear it across the mansion (slender mansion AU)

7. His deep gravely ass voice is perfect for metal songs

8. He likes to paint his nails black, and black only any other color is fucking gay

9. His vocabulary is 90% cuss words

10. He rarely showers. Ironically the gamer showers more often than him. Jeff prefers to be a stinky son of a bitch (take that fangirls)

11. He makes up for it with his dental hygiene (kinda) he brushes them twice a day and they look perfect (mostly)

12. He has extra sharp canines

13. He named his knife “Knifu” aka his knife waifu

14. The knife has been used so much that it constantly reeks of bleach and blood; it has permanent blood stains on it

15. Jeff bites his nails pretty often

16. Jeff isn’t good with throwing knives- he also isn’t that good at stabbing…

17. Jeff literally just stabs and stabs until he thinks his victim is dead, he doesn’t know any major artery’s (did I spell that right?)

18. Jeff is dyslexic

19. Jeff is horrible at math but refuses to admit it

20. Jeff wears eyeliner but refuses to admit it

21. He secretly loves the color pink but refuses to admit it (see a pattern here yet?)

22. Jeff is super sensitive to light due to the fact he doesn’t have any eyelids

23. He wears black gloves because he has burn marks on his hands and hates it when people look at them (fingerless gloves as his fingers aren’t burnt)

24. Jeff really wants tattoos and piercings but can’t get any due to his skin being extremely sensitive and fragile

25. Jeff hates the sun, it hurts his eyes and skin

26. Jeff likes going to playgrounds at night because 1. Fucking swings are awesome and 2. Creepy

27. Fucker is 5’11 and constantly calls BeN a midget

28. Jeff had a small crush on Toby for a while and lowkey has a small crush on BeN but…

29. Jeff is highkey downbad for EJ (it’s one-sided)

30. If Jeff ever tried to cook, he would burn everything

31. Jeff is fucking terrified of fire

32. Sometimes Ben likes to scare Jeff shitless by lighting a small fire inside Bens hands infront of Jeff

33. Sometimes Jeff throws Ben inside a kiddy pool and watches him panic about drowning (he is fully above the water)

34. Despite the fact Jeff and Ben both fuck with each other and their fears, they do it in tame ways to ensure the other doesn’t actually have a panic attack of any kind

35. Jeff lives in sweatpants, jeans are for losers and shorts are gay

36. T-shirts and hoodies, Jeff literally does not own a single sweater, long sleeve, or tank top.

37. His favorite T-shirt says “Fuck me in my ass (but not in a gay way)”

38. His second favorite says “Emo metal loving slut”

39. Both and almost all of his t-shirts are black with either white or red/pink writing

40. It is Jeff’s goal to have every photo taken of him (with permission) to have him flipping off the camera

41. Jeff watches South Park but thinks Family guy is stupid

42. He tries really hard to get on Liu/Sully’s good side but his anger issues usually get in the way

43. Jeff and Nina are actually really good friends that lowkey view each other as family

44. Jeff and Nina love to piss each other off constantly (Ben will prank whoever he is asked to)

45. Jeff has tried to kill Jane quite a few times, and Jane is constantly trying to kill him

46. Jeff personally isn’t into weed but he doesn’t judge BeN for being a stoner lowkey

47. Jeff is a virgin but he wouldn’t be nervous at all about having sex

48. Jeff is a kinky bastard

49. Jeff likes a good bowl of strawberry ice cream

50. Jeff likes banana smoothies

51. Jeff owns a few Nirvana T-shirts

[sanscat0414]

Sideline 1

Hawks x Timid Reader

Scenario: Hawks loses his memories after a villlan fight leading to head trauma. His sidekick was all the more ready to take your place as his girlfriend. She fed him lies to make Hawks hate you. Will he remember you or will you remain a thorn in his eyes.

Masterlist

It had been 2 months since Hawks was hospitalized after a long stressful fight. Each day you pray he would wake up.

You were there every possible moment waiting and hoping for the day he woken up. You had to work but You would stay by his side up until visiting hours where over. You would come home to your small little apartment crying wanting to have him back. You missed his warmth and you miss all those silly moments you had together.

You immediately rushed over to the hospital once your business trip was over to check on him. When you opened the door you saw him with his side kick, Vivian, the Shadow hero. Vivian was straddling Hawks and they were flirting with one another. You were grateful that he was finally awake but heartbroken seeing him with another woman.

“Hawks?” You asked trying to hide your broken heart.

“That’s the woman I was telling you about. Always trying to tear us apart.” Vivian said.

“What are you talking about I’m-“

“Don’t act all confused now! You weee always budding in like a crazy Fan and you always harassed me! Saying mean things about my body and coming on to Hawks like a creep!” She said.

She win an Oscar if she was an actress with all her crocodile tears. That wasn’t that part that make you hurt. What made you stop and broken was the look in Hawks eyes. No longer was the loving stares he gave you, there was only hate in his eyes.

He gave you the coldest stare you ever seen and sternly said “Get out. Look I don’t know what your problem is but stay away form my girl friend and Me.”

“Wait Hawks but we ar-“

“I don’t want to hear your delusions, please leave before I call security.”

He wouldn’t listen to you. You had no choice but to leave the room. You figured by now that Hawks didn’t remember you. You look back through the small window of the door. Hawks was happy, staring lovingly toward Vivian. You left crying running home. You tried everyday to see Hawks but the staff inform you he didn’t want to see you. They looks at you with pity knowing that you cared for him deeply despite them not knowing your relationship with him other than you were on his emergency contacts.

Once he was out you went to his agency to try to reason with him. He never listened brushing you aside like you were nothing but trash to him. Vivian did her best to keep you or any memory of you from surfacing, going so far to go into his office to remove any trace of you. Hawks even told the secretary to not let you in after 3-4 times you ended up there.

After a while you gave up, Hawks didn’t want anything to do with you. You lost hope that Hawks would ever love you again. Night after night you cried and wake up from nightmares only to wake up to another nightmare. One which Hawks despise you, one that Hawks was no longer your man, no longer look at you with love, no longer Hawks even look at you. You wake up looking up hoping you catch a glance at him only for you to see nothing.

You were walking home when you came across Tokoyami. Tokoyami wasn’t that close to you but Hawks sometimes brought Tokoyami along to have lunch or dinner so you two were really well acquainted.

“Oh Hi Tsukuyomi. It’s been a while how are you?” You asked putting up the best smile you can.

“Fine. I noticed you and Hawks are not talking. Did something happen?”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from crying. You could barely even tell him the whole truth. He guiding you to away form the crowded streets and held you as cry on his shoulders. Once you calmed down you told him what happened, how Hawks hates you and refuses to speak to you.

“… he won’t listen to me. Hawks doesn’t believe me. I been sidelined by Vivian…”

“You shouldn’t give up. You love him don’t you?”

“OF COURSE I DO! But what can I do? He’s happy with her, He hates me. I can’t even get a word in before he pushes me away! I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what to do Toki. I don’t….” You said.

“There you are.” You and Tokoyami heard.

You both look up to see Hawks. You immediately tried to hide yourself behind Tokoyami.

“Why are you here? Are you bothering my intern now?” Hawks said annoyed as soon as he saw you.

Tokoyami look back at you as you held on to his cap. You shook your head as if to tell him not to say a word.

“No, she’s not bothering me Hawks. She’s a friend of mine. I was helping her with something.”

“Oh. Well we should continue your patrols. I wanna ask if you want to have lunch with me Viv is gonna be there too.”

You flinched a bit hearing him call Vivian by a nickname so lovingly. You kept silent. Tokoyami declined and said he was going to escort you home the continue work. You can’t do anything but watch as he leaves you and Tokoyami. As he lifted you couldn’t help but try to reach out only to pull your hand back as you watch. Once you were home you laid on your couch scrolling through all your photos. Hawks smiling with you on your date to the amusement park, he was in disguise but it was a funny picture with a fake mustache. You smile at all your memories but you tears continue to fall as you remember your nothing to him now.

You can only watch him soar from the sideline.

Part 2

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

Ah, coffee. The nectar of the gods. Both a blessing and a curse in one.

When it had first made it's way into Hell, Lucifer hadn't given it much thought. Tea had been the go-to wake up drink for thousands of years, and while a nice drink, it had never done much for him in the stimulant department. He had maintained for years that coffee would likely have the same lack of effect as tea.

Right up until he'd had his first cup of joe.

And hadn't he been wrong. He'd nearly been bouncing off the walls for hours, before spectacularly crashing later that day. It had taken some experimentation, but he had found that if he drank half a cup of coffee over an hour, followed by slowly consuming the rest over the course of the day, it gave him the boast he needed without sending into an energy-high followed by a massive energy-crash.

Oh, what he wouldn't have done to have coffee for those first couple of years after Charlie was born. Lilith may have become Charlie's main caretaker following her toddler years, but Lucifer had been her go-to parent for those first several years.

Easy baby or not, Charlie had never had much of a sleep schedule. It was something that had followed her into her adult years. Lucifer was fairly certain that was his fault, as that was a trait they had in common. Lilith had been an early to bed, early to rise sort of person. Worse, she was a morning person.

Since mastering the art of drinking coffee, Lucifer had joined the rank of coffee lovers and dependents, unable and/or unwilling to start his day without one. Some days, it really was the only thing that woke him up.

That particular morning was one such morning. He had been up most of the night, first at the ceremony and then taking hours to unwind enough to sleep. He had eventually fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, not that long before people would start waking up and starting their day.

Half asleep, despite the late morning hour, he wandered downstairs to the kitchen. As he passed the foyer, he thought he saw Angel and Cherri suspiciously hide their faces behind their hands as they whispered to each other. Charlie and Vaggie were huddled off to the side, the former making some rather extravagant hand motions at the latter. Husk might have looked like he had swallowed a lemon, which didn't look too far off from his usual disgruntled mood, so it it didn't set off any alarm bells.

If Lucifer had been more awake, he might have guessed what all the fuss was about. He might also have brewed his coffee and then immediately teleported back to his room to avoid any gossip about his (lack of) love life.

As it was, he wasn't a fully functioning fallen seraphim until the caffeine started to hit his blood stream and he missed all the cues.

Twenty minutes later, Lucifer walked back out of the kitchen with his prize in hand. The cup was already a third of the way drank, steam still rising up out of the cup to show it was pipping hot. Caffeine not having had remotely enough time to work it's magic, Lucifer proceeded to make his first mistake of the day.

He walked into the main-lobby-slash-living-room.

Charlie immediately tuned into his presence the moment he walked into the room, which should have been a clue she was on the look out for him. Her vaguely nervous expression should have been another one.

Lucifer, in his sleepy state, only picked up on the latter one. "Morning, Char-Char." He wrapped his hands around the cup, letting the heat seep into his fingers. "Everything alright?"

Charlie took a deep breathe, rubbing at the back of her head. "Well, dad, we, um..." She trailed off, her gaze flinting over towards her girlfriend, who held both of her thumbs up in encouragement. Charlie smiled, but the quality of it fell between strained and for real, which only served to alarm Lucifer even more. Pressing her hands together, she pointed both of her pointer fingers at him. "We wanted to congratulate you."

"Congratulate me? On what?" Lucifer had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that he just wasn't a morning person. Getting the strong impression he was going to want to be awake as possible for this conversation, he proceeded to make his second mistake of the morning.

He went to take another gulp of coffee, just as Charlie said, "Well, on your new relationship with Alastor!"

Lucifer choked, the coffee going down the wrong pipe, something he had always felt was a bit unfair considering he was never quite certain if seraphim had lungs. It somehow still never stopped him from nearly choking when someone said something so outlandish it was outright ludicrous. Startled, Charlie darted forward, hand patting his back as he attempted to wheeze and hack up a possibly non-existent lung.

When he felt capable of talking without immediately coughing, he managed a half strangled, "What... relationship?"

Charlie exchanged another look with Vaggie. She continued to rub his back as she explained, "Well, we saw the videos of your dancing with Alastor and thought..."

The blonde king placed his head in his hand, suddenly understanding the, well, misunderstanding. He had known people were going to draw conclusions, but he hadn't thought about how it would look to Charlie. She had known they were going to the ceremony together, but he somehow doubt it had crossed her mind that it might go as far as an evening full of dancing.

"There's no relationship," he denied, running his hand down his face. "No relationship what-so-ever, really." He smiled at her reassuringly. "Alastor just likes to dance."

In a show of how comfortable Angel had gotten around him, the porn star shamelessly pointed out, "He wasn't the only one enjoying that dance." He leaned his chin on his hand, smile outright teasing and knowing. "Looked like you were going to do a bit more than dance for a moment there."

Lucifer's treacherous mind went back to the moment in question: the moment where all it would have taken was leaning just a little bit forward, and then they would have been ki--

He ruthlessly cut off the thought as he felt his cheeks heating up. He had resolutely refused to think of that moment since it had happened. He had refused to think about the fact that it had been haunting his dreams during what little sleep he had gotten. He was certainly not going to think about that moment in front of his daughter, her girlfriend, and her friends.

He cleared his throat, holding up one of his hands. "There is no relationship," he emphasized. He turned to Charlie, taking hold of one of her hands in his own. "I don't know if there will ever be anyone after your mother, but if there ever is, I promise I will tell you." He paused, adding, "Preferably before it winds up on a gossip rag."

She smiled at him, relief visible in her eyes. She patted the back of his hand with her free one. Supportive, she said, "I'm not going to say I wouldn't be thrilled if you and mom got back together, dad, but I just want you to be happy." Her mouth twisted at the corners. "Even if it's with Alastor."

Lucifer winced. "Not happening." He took back his hand, wrapping it back around his mug to give himself something to hold onto. Turning to the hotel's oldest resident, he asked, "How... bad is it?"

He didn't need to explain what 'it' was.

"Oh, it's bad." The spider sinner giggled as he held up his phone, a news headline in big bold letters read, THE KING OF HELL SHACKING IT UP WITH THE RADIO DEMON? "It's been all 666 News would talk about last night."

Lucifer resisted the urge to put his face back in his hand or retreat back up into his room and not come out for the next century. It could really go either way, at that point.

A touch of sympathy could be found in Angel's eyes as he said, voice as close to reassuring as the blonde had ever heard it, "Aw, don't worry, your Majesty. I'm sure it'll blow over as soon as the next scandal pops up."

Which, knowing Hell, wouldn't be that long.

Lucifer internally groaned. It wouldn't be soon enough, if one were to ask him. He almost glanced up at the ceiling, towards the direction of Alastor's radio station and suite. He wondered if the Overlord had seen the news and how he was responding to it.

Knowing him, he was likely thinking of how to spin all of this in his favor, if he decided to entertain it at all.

Unwilling to let the news or thoughts of a certain radio demon sour his morning any further than they already had, Lucifer scrambled to change the subject. "So, how are things going with the trust exercises?" He didn't have to try hard to look interested in his daughter's latest plans, although he mentally apologized that he was mostly asking to distract her from his own issues. "Thought of any new ones?"

Charlie, bless her, was all too happy to talk about her latest plans. Snagging his arm, she tugged him over to a corkboard she had set up. Various hand drawn notes and print outs were pinned to the board. Some had parts of them crossed out, while a few had stars on them. "I think I have some new ideas!" She pointed to the ones with the stars on them. "I was thinking maybe we could try this one out at the next meeting." There was nothing forced about this smile when she turned it on him. "What do you think?"

Happy to have something else to think about and even more happy to have her asking for his impute on anything, he squinted at the page she was pointing to. On it, it gave detailed instructions about different team building exercises and how to carry them out. The one in particular that she was pointing to was called, 'Human Knot.'

It appeared to be fairly simple. A group of people stood around in a circle and got themselves 'tangled up' by taking the hands of two other people. The goal of the exercise was for the group to untangle themselves without letting go of anyone's hands. It sounded like it might be a fun activity, if everyone was willing to get touchy-feely with everyone.

Alastor would never agree to participate in this. Lucifer wasn't certain he would enjoy participating in this, either. The thought of touching so many people who weren't family or close friends was overwhelming. At least, while sober. It gave him too many Twister vibes and the less he thought about that game the better.

There was a reason it was Asmodeus' favorite 'family' game.

Scurrying out of the wood work, Niffty appeared with a needle the length of her head. Speared through on the end of it was a cockroach the size of her hand. Disturbingly enough, it was still twitching. She peered up at the board, her eye lighting up at the details of the trust exercise. "Ooooo! That one looks fun." She peered up at Lucifer in that way she did that always set his hackles up. "I can hold hands with all the bad boys in the room..."

Lucifer laughed nervously as she scurried off as quickly as she had appeared. Something of his true feelings must have shown on his face, because Charlie's smile was beginning to slip. Which was just not allowed. "It's fine," he rushed to reassure her. "I'm just worried not everyone will want to participate, because of the level of touching." Desperate to save her good mood, Lucifer pointed to the option underneath the one she had showed him. "What about this one?"

She leaned in, reading the name. "Two Truths and a Lie?" It wasn't one she had starred and her tone was a bit dubious.

Angel appeared at their side. He stabbed the board with a finger. "Now there's a fun game, especially if you turn it into a drinking game." He waggled his eyebrows at them, suggestively.

Vaggie rolled her eyes. She came up behind the sinner, her hands on her hips. "We are not doing any drinking games during trust exercises."

The sinner pouted at her. "Is it your mission to suck all the joy out of my life?"

The former exterminator was unimpressed. Ignoring his theatrics, she asked, "What does the game entail?"

Angel's phone pinged with a notification. Loosing interest in the conversation in favor of whatever it was, he wandered off across the room to pull it up. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw the spider demon become caught up in what sounded like a video clip, he wasn't paying enough attention to make out the audio.

Feeling invested now that he was interested in potentially participating, Lucifer jumped in to answer. "Pretty much what it says on the tin. You tell two things that are true about yourself, along with a lie. The goal is for everyone to try and figure out which is the lie."

Charlie tilted her head to the side. "And this is supposed to... build trust?"

Vaggie seemed to be catching on. "It's a way to get to know people, babe. You get to tell people thinks about yourself, while they try to see how well they know you in return."

The host of the hotel didn't look convinced.

Lucifer cracked a grin. "Come on, it sounds like it'll be fun, Charlie." He lightly patted her on the arm. "We could try it out now and see what you think?"

She looked to him, and then to Vaggie, who nodded. Charlie mulled over it, before nodding her head. "Okay! If everyone wants to play it, then we can do it during the next trust exercise." Getting more excited the longer she thought about it, she hugged her father around the shoulders with a single arm pulling him in tight against her. With her other hand, she pointed a finger to the ceiling. "We could have a meeting right now, in fact!"

"Uh, I hate to interrupt," Angel cut in, coming back towards them. His tone more than anything, caught their attention. He sounded horrified. "You guys might want to see this."

Lucifer, Vaggie and Charlie shared a glance between themselves. They all gathered around Angel's phone, which he had turned around to face them. Tapping the play button to start the video, a familiar voice came out of the teeny speakers.

"Breaking news: A new video was dropped today showing not everyone played an equal role in the fight on Extermination Day." Katie Killjoy's face was replaced by an aerial shot of the roof of the Hazbin Hotel. In the background, angels flooded the skies, hinting as to what day the video had been recorded. The recording itself appeared to be mid fight between what was quickly identified to be Adam and Alastor. Lucifer's eyes widened, his stomach dropping as he realized that despite having taking on the most powerful angel to visit Hell after Lucifer, Alastor didn't have any angelic weapons on him.

Why? Why would he be so reckless. Lucifer had seen the shield wielding angelic spears, so why didn't Alastor have any?

Holy shit, he had actually taken him on with just his own shadows.

The recording fizzled, temporarily cutting off as Alastor throwing Adam into the old hotel sign. Lucifer's blood turned cold as it phased back in, just in time for Adam's guitar to come down and slice effortlessly through Alastor's staff. The radio host looked confused for a moment, before realizing the extent of the damage. This much Lucifer had already deduced from seeing Alastor's broken staff weeks ago and while he had been suspicious that more had happened, it was still difficult to watch what happened next.

"It seems Hell's resident old timer bit off more than he could chew," Katie was narrating as Adam swung his guitar - made of pure angelic grace - straight across Alastor's chest, sending the sinner soaring across the roof. His momentum was only stopped as he hit the barrier. The sinner crumpled to the roof, blood splattering the ground beside him, damning evidence that had disappeared when the hotel had been nearly destroyed in Adam's attack not that long afterwards.

Tiny hands and feet scrambled up Lucifer's back, signaling Niffty's return. She must have been drawn back by the commotion. Normally, he would have been extremely uncomfortable with being used as a living cat tree for her to climb, but in this instance he was too absorbed by video to pay her much attention. A part of him also knew that she and Alastor was close, whatever their relationship was with each other. It would have been more surprising if she hadn't shown up.

"He needed so many stiches after that." Niffty made a low, mournful noise at the sight that greeted her on the phone's screen. "He was in so much pain..."

Lucifer's whole body froze up. Alastor had needed stiches?

As if coming unfrozen, Charlie gasped in horror, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Vaggie's expression was grim as she placed a hand on her elbow. As angels who had seen the kind of damage angelic grace could do to sinners, rare that such a weapon was employed, Lucifer and Vaggie both knew that such a wound should have been fatal.

Lucifer had thought that Alastor's staff had taken the brunt of the attack. That maybe he had only been grazed, at worse. That should have been the extent of the damage.

It had never occurred to him that Alastor might have taken the attack full on.

It was baffling that Alastor was still alive.

The video didn't come with audio, so they couldn't hear what Alastor was saying as he did the first smart thing he had done since he decided to take on Adam without a useful weapon and retreated. "And there you have it everyone," Katie was saying, her tone and smile gleeful as she soaked in the suffering of someone who had quite the distance to fall. "The supposedly big bad Radio Demon running away like a with his teeny, tiny, fluffy little tail between his legs like the fucking coward that he is."

The screen pulled away to show her cohost, Tom Trench. "Do you think he ran off to wherever he was hiding for seven years?"

"Who gives a shit, Tom." Katie turned her head in such a way that it appeared to break her neck. "He's a washed up has-been who should have stayed away--"

The phone disappeared, Charlie having darted forward and hit the pause button. Her hands hid the screen from view.

For a long moment, the present group blankly stared off into the middle distance, trying to digest what they had just seen. Each of their faces ranged from out right horrified (Charlie's) to grim (Vaggie's and Husk's) to some level of worried (Angel's). All of them were thinking the same thing: about Alastor's disappearance for several days as they rebuilt the hotel and the varying degrees of relief everyone had felt when he'd reappeared, seemingly just fine save his missing staff.

No one had questioned why he'd disappeared.

No one had followed up to make certain he wasn't hiding a wound and potentially actively dying.

But now they all knew. There was no unseeing this, just as there had been no unseeing Sir Pentious' last moments as Adam vaporized him like he was nothing.

Lucifer, personally, was kicking himself for not checking on the wound when he had Alastor trapped. He had known something was potentially wrong - had seen the evidence in the damage to the microphone - and yet he had allowed Alastor to side track him like a willfully blind fool dancing to the piper's tune.

Lucifer found himself moving before he'd even made the conscious decision to do so. He plucked Niffty off his back, the little maid making no protest as she was lightly placed down on the ground. His cup of coffee went onto the coffee table. The moment his hands were free, he was preparing to open a portal to Alastor's room.

"Dad?" Charlie's voice calling out to him made him pause.

He turned to her, placing a hand on her other elbow. "I'm just going to check on him."

She placed her own hand over his, squeezing it as she bit her lip. "Dad, you saw how badly he was hurt." Guilt was visibly crashing down over her as her eyes welling up with tears. "I knew something was wrong. Why didn't I check to see if he was okay?" Vaggie stepped in and hugged her as Lucifer squeezed her arm.

"He clearly didn't want any of us to know he was hurt." He debated saying anything about the blood drinking. Alastor had looked tremendously better afterwards and it might go a long way to easing some of her worries about how injured the sinner was. He just didn't know how to explain how they had gotten to that part.

He decided to settle for a partial truth. "He didn't tell me how hurt he was, but he's already let me help him some." Charlie sniffled, turning hopeful eyes on him. "If I had to guess, I'd say the wound is all healed up." He smiled at her reassuringly. "I'll see if I can get him to let me check to make certain everything is better, okay?"

She nodded, wiping at a tear. "Just, make certain he's okay." She moaned, low and wounded. "I can't lose him too, dad."

Lucifer looked to Vaggie, who nodded back to him. "I got her, sir."

Lucifer stepped back. His instinct to stay and comfort his offspring at war with his desire to make certain Alastor was okay. The only reason he was going to be able to do so was because Vaggie had her and he was likely the only person who could make certain their resident radio host wasn't being eaten up from the inside out by any residual grace Adam might have left behind.

A quick burst of magic opened a portal directly into Alastor's room. He stepped through without waiting to see if Alastor might need any privacy, not wanting the sinner to potentially turn him away. He was going to get that idiot into letting him inspect that wound once and for all, even if he had to sit on him to do it.

Curse Alastor and his stupid pride for not having said anything! He could have put in it the favors with his microphone, for crying out loud.

"Alastor!" His voice echoed through the room, disappearing off into the bayou. Lucifer scoured the sinner's room from top to bottom. He didn't see him in his bed, nor at the fireplace, nor at his little table in the bayou. He raised his voice to as loud as he could make it without causing any damage. "Come out, you asshole, before I hunt you down!"

No response.

There was a possibility he was out in the bayou, as there was no way of being sure how far out it extended without going out into it. He had one foot out on the grass, when the old fashioned radio on Alastor's bookshelf crackled to life.

"Greetings, sinners! It's come to my attention that there seems to be some questions about my health recently."

Lucifer threw himself across the room, grabbing hold of the radio. His head darted up as he stared up at the ceiling. He could teleport himself into the station, but that risked interrupting the Radio Demon's broadcast. Until he knew what exactly the sinner was planning, he didn't want to spook him.

It didn't mean he couldn't keep an eye on him, though.

He crossed the room in seconds, throwing open a window. Looking up, he could see the On Air sign was lit, indicating that Alastor was indeed in his radio tower. Launched himself out of the window, Lucifer took flight as Alastor said through the radio, "Never fear, dear listeners, because nothing as simple as a silly angel could take out the Radio Demon."

Lucifer snorted, coming up to hover in full view of studio. 'Silly angel,' he calls an actual archangel that had destroyed the hotel and by all rights should have killed him.

Inside the studio, Alastor spotted him. The sinner's eyes were aglow, pupils turned to dials. He had grown as large as the room would allow him to get without taking the roof off, antlers extended out like fingers reaching out to the sides of the room. A bright green 'x' marked the spot on his forehead. As his eyes fell on the little king, a streak of black drool dribbled down his chin as his smile elongated far beyond what should have been possible for his face. His fingers twitched and curled, a single finger pointing to the other side of the tower. "In fact, I think a certain voyeur needs a little reminder as to why he should mind his own business."

Lucifer frowned, not understanding what Alastor planned to do at first. It was only because he had come out the side of the hotel, furthest from his own room, that he isn't hit by the powerful wave of radio waves bursting forth from the tower. Startled, he jerked out of the way, spinning around mid-air to see where they were going.

He watched, unsurprised to see them heading for VoxTek. It figured that Vox was behind the video. He'd had footage of other parts of the fight, it shouldn't be surprising he had been spying on Alastor when Adam had come a calling. When he didn't see another wave leave the tower, he chanced moving around the obstruction the tower made of the view to better see what effect that wave was going to have.

It was difficult to see from that distance, but he could just make out the wave hitting the satellite. Could see the plum of smoke rising up as the machinery went dead. The satellite was still standing, but it likely wasn't operational. At least, not for the moment.

He raised an eyebrow at the redhead through the window. Petty, much?

Depending on how terrible the Alastor's eyesight was - deer had notoriously bad eyesight- it was entirely possible he couldn't see the damage he had inflicted himself. Regardless of his poor eyesight, he somehow knew anyway, perhaps having that much confidence in his attack. Alastor's grin was pleased as a cat having caught a canary. "Friendly reminder that I won't be as lenient next time."

The radio in Lucifer's arms cut off with a crackle as Alastor reached out and flicked a switch on his board. The two stared at each other, waiting to see what the other planned to do next.

When Alastor didn't move other than to settle back down into his more default appearance, Lucifer decided to come to him. He disappeared in a swirl of magic, reappearing a moment later in the studio. He fully materialized back into being behind the redhead.

Alastor didn't turn around, continuing his work as if he didn't have his back to someone who could easily kill him with a flick of the wrist. Lucifer took the time to study him more in depth than he had in the previous months. The sinner didn't move like he was in pain. Then again, he never had. The only indication he had ever given that something was off was when he never called on his microphone in the months before he got Lucifer to repair it.

There was nothing to tell he had ever taken a hit of pure angelic grace to the chest. Lucifer didn't feel anything coming off him either.

A visual inspection wasn't going to be enough, when it came to this kind of wound. If he was to do a proper inspection, he was going to have to talk Alastor into letting him touch him. It was almost a shame he hadn't known when he was healing Alastor's ribs and side two nights ago. He could have checked then and this whole conversation could have been avoided.

The silence extended. Lucifer was suspicious Alastor knew why he was here and was planning to wait him out. The little king fiddled with the radio's dials, suddenly glad he had decided to grab it, if only to give him something to do with his hands. One of them was going to have to kick start this conversation. It might as well be him. "You didn't say Adam got you in the chest."

The sinner made that little 'hm' sound he liked to make. It could have been in response to what the blonde had said. It could have just been in response to something Alastor was seeing on his equipment.

"Angelic grace is bad for sinners, you know." Lucifer's hold on the radio tightened, not quite certain if he was being ignored or not. "It can grow like a cancer until it burns you up from the inside out." He leaned from foot to foot, feeling more twitchy the longer Alastor didn't speak to him. He stopped the moment he noticed he was doing it. "You should have said something."

Whatever Alastor was looking for, he seemed to find for he nodded at his equipment in satisfaction. He finally rose up off his settee, the movement as fluid as ever. "There was nothing to worry about." He stepped around the furniture, waving off the concern as if batting away a fly. "I had it handled."

"'Handled'?" Lucifer's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Handled how, exactly? By having Niffty sew you up?" His grip tightened on the radio, enough to make it give a little creak of protest, but not enough to truly threaten to break it. "You couldn't have known I was going to offer my blood. And just because it healed the physical wound that doesn't mean it cleared the grace."

Alastor's eyes zeroed in on his radio in Lucifer's hands. The thinning of his lips indicated he wasn't thrilled with the idea of his property coming to damage. "What exactly do you propose to do?" He reached out to reclaim the radio.

Lucifer took a step back, keeping himself and the radio out of arms reach. "Let me check the wound."

The sinner's fingers twitched before curling in. He let the hand drop. "What does that entail?" He followed after the blonde, first one step and then another, meeting each retreat with an advance.

Lucifer continued to back away until his back hit the window. On reflex, he glanced behind him. All that stood between himself and a drop was a thick panel of glass.

Alastor took advantage of his distraction to steal back his radio. "Out with it. You're too twitchy for this to be a simple look over."

The blonde flexed his hands, now empty of anything to use for stress relief. "No, I'd have to touch your bare skin to be sure there's nothing there."

The hand not holding the radio came up, all four finger splaying out as Alastor laughed out a short, sharp, "Ha!" He wagged a single finger of the same hand at the seraphim. "Not going to happen!"

Before Lucifer could protest or attempt to make his case, Alastor disappeared into his shadows. He scurried past him, slipping down the trap door and out of the studio.

Lucifer stared at where the redhead had just been, gapping. That... That idiot! Didn't he hear the part where he could be infected with the equivalent of a deadly poison that could be eating him up from the inside out?

Growling, Lucifer opened a portal back down into Alastor's room. If Alastor wanted to see who was more stubborn, the hundred-something year old sinner or the first sinner himself, Lucifer was more than up for the challenge. Stepping through, he found Alastor over by his book shelf, returning the radio back to it's prior resting place.

Frustrated, Lucifer marched over to him, seriously considering throwing up a barrier around the room to keep Alastor from running away again. "Hey! I wasn't done with you, mister!"

Alastor finished setting the radio to his preference, and then turned around to meet him head on. "I hardly see how we have anything more to talk about." He placed his hands behind his back, the very picture of unconcerned. "I've already declined your offer."

Lucifer threw his hands up. "Aren't you worried? This isn't a game! This could be your life on the line!"

Alastor leaned in to his personal space, his lips starting to twist into a smug, cat like grin. "Tell me, sire, why are you so worried?"

"Hello? Really?" Lucifer crossed his arms, defensive. "Have I not said that if Charlie cares than I care?" He sighed, looking away and begrudgingly adding, "She was really upset when you went missing and it would break her heart if something happened to you."

Alastor considered him for a long moment. Suddenly, a very loud buzzer tore through the air, causing the blonde to jump. "Hm, no, I think not." He flicked at one of the Lucifer's blonde flyways with a single finger, eyeing him up and down as the shorter of the two glared at him. "You know, I could almost believe that was the reason." He leaned away, tapping his chin. "But we both know that's not the whole truth."

He stepped around him, walking away and putting some distance between them. "I propose a little deal."

Lucifer scoffed, defense turning to irritation. He was starting to regret attempting to help this asshole. "You can't be serious."

Coming to a stop half way across the room, Alastor came to a halt. "Oh, come now, sire. Not that kind of deal." He spun around, one heel coming together to click against the other. One hand settled against the small of his back, while his staff appeared in the other. He used it to point at his uninvited guest. "If you tell me the real reason you care so much and I like the answer, I'll let you see for yourself that I'm perfectly fine."

He almost couldn't believe his ears. Lucifer stared at him, incredulous. "Are you actually holding your life hostage over this??"

Alastor twirled his staff, a mock considering look on his face. He shrugged, far too nonchalant for the subject. "Hm, I guess I am."

Lucifer could feel his self control fraying at the edges. He had clearly been far too lenient with this sinner if Alastor wasn't even remotely taking him seriously. He held up his hand, palm facing the redhead. It would be easy to just knock him right off his feet with a small burst of power and hold him in place while he just checked to see if he wasn't actively dying. He really ought to. It might just remind this arrogant little sinner who was at the top of the food chain and who was at the bottom between the two of them.

Alastor stared at him down, patiently waiting him out.

After several long moments of arguing with himself, Lucifer lowered his hand. He hissed, as much at himself as it was at Alastor. He couldn't do this by force, not because he wasn't incapable of doing so, but because he was trying to get Alastor to agree of his own free will. "Fine!" He stalked over to the deer demon, coming to a stop just before actually touching him. Pointing his finger up at Alastor's chin, he confessed, "Fine, I'm worried because I'm a fool and I actually care about you! I would be genuinely upset if something happened to you, are you happy??" He pointed at the bed behind the redhead, nearly breathing fire as he growled, "Now sit down and let me help you."

Alastor nodded at him. "There we go, your Majesty. Isn't it better to tell the truth?"

"Sit!" Lucifer pointed at the bed, this time with more emphasis, his tone making it abundantly clear he was not going to repeat himself again.

The redhead proceeded to show that he had some self preservation instincts in that stubborn head of his, because he didn't press Lucifer's buttons again. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs and settling his hands on his knees, body language just as carefree as ever. "Would any skin do?" He held up his hand, indicating he was willing to take his glove off to give him access to bare skin.

Lucifer took a series of deep, calming breaths. He was tempted to just smother the redhead, but since that would defeat the purpose of preserving his life, the blonde put the idea on the back burner to come back to later. It would make for entertaining fodder to think about while he was trying to fall asleep that night.

When he could speak without possibly setting something on fire, he shook his head. "No, I need access to the wound." He let some of his empathy for Alastor's dislike for touch seep into his voice as he said, honestly, "Sorry. I'll try to make it quick."

Alastor paused, a quick flash of trepidation appearing across his face and then disappearing just as quickly. His smile took on more of a mask like quality, as he reached up and began to undo his tie. He set it down beside himself, the protection gem Lucifer had gifted him resting up against his thigh.

His fingers didn't shake, didn't tremble in the slightest as he unclasped his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, but his discomfort was visible in every line of his body.

Button by button, he revealed first his neck and then his chest. A thin layer of - soft, Lucifer' treacherous mind reminded him - brown fur lined his shoulders, disappearing under his shirt. A lighter, fluffier bout of fur ran down his chest, fluffing up as it was freed from the restraint of Alastor's shirt. A nasty, ragged scar peaked out the bottom of the poof of fur, running along his side. Partially hidden, the scar appeared to run from Alastor's left collar bone to the last of his right set of ribs.

How he was still alive continued to baffle Lucifer, no matter how thankful he was. He held up his hands. "Can I approach you?"

Alastor gave him the stink eye, ear twitching. He almost looked insulted. "By all means, sire. Be my guest." His fingers gripped the sides of his shirt just a little too tightly, belying his words with his true feelings. When he released the fabric, it was almost like he was prying his own hands free. He settled his hands in his lap, back ramrod straight.

Lucifer moved carefully, but not too slowly. He knew Alastor wouldn't spook. He wasn't actually a wild animal. It was still polite to approach with caution, in case he needed to stop at the drop of the hat. The redhead watched him approach like a hawk, ear twitching with every noise Lucifer made.

Lucifer came to stand in front of him, close, but not quite allowing their knees to touch. He reached out, finger ghosting over what he could see of the scar. It must have been painful. The skin over the collar bone alone was thin. The length of the gouge threatened quite a few ribs. He couldn't tell how deep it had gone, but it had not healed prettily.

He pressed the tips of his fingers to the skin near the base of Alastor's ribs, the fur just as soft as it had been on his arms. Lucifer forced himself to focus, to ignore this tidbit of information and store it in the same box he kept all the other things he was slowly learning about the redhead's body, but wasn't allowed to think about. He closed his eyes, reaching out his senses.

Alastor felt human, his sins dripping like fresh blood from his soul. Lucifer could feel the way the power of his soul mingled with the darkness of his abilities. The wound itself had indeed completely healed, although traces of its damage ran deep. Several bones had been cleaved straight through, the organs beneath clipped. Alastor had only survived as long as he had because of his particular brand of magic being uniquely adept at keeping things sewed into place and Niffty was apparently very good with a needle. Without both, he would have bleed to death for sure.

Most importantly, though, to his vast relief, Lucifer could find no trace of Adam's grace anywhere within the sinner's body. Despite the obvious damage it had made, somehow, nothing lingered behind.

Alastor caught his wrist, his grip tight enough it might have bruised another sinner. Lucifer's eyes snapped open. He allowed Alastor to pull his hand away. He didn't try to free himself when the redhead didn't immediately let him go.

"Well, sire?" Alastor looked up, his sitting down giving Lucifer the height on him for a change. "Am I going to live?" This part was said with a degree of teasing, as if to say, see, I told you so.

The fallen angel reminded himself, not for the first time, that, no, he did not, in fact, want to strangle this guy. He smirked down his nose at the redhead, enjoying the fact that he could do so for a change. "Unfortunately." He ignored the way Alastor smiled at him, as if he knew how much he was enjoying being taller for a change. "You're either secretly an angel or just one lucky asshole. No grace leftover whatsoever."

Alastor threw back his head and laughed. "As you can see, your Majesty," he said with no small amount of mirth, "I am certainly no angel."

Lucifer snorted. The Radio Demon was a sinner, through and through, and quite happy with that fact. Some humans never got over their lot in the afterlife, but Alastor had embraced it with eyes wide open.

He watched the redhead loosen his grip on his wrist, his brain promptly short circuiting as Alastor twisted their hands around until he could intertwine their fingers. "Um."

"Since his Majesty has taken such good care of me..." Alastor reached out with his free hand, snaking it up and around Lucifer's waist. The blonde might have squeaked when he was pulled forward, legs automatically parting to stand on either side of the redhead's. He only stopped when his knees hit the side of the mattress. It also brought their faces within inches of each other. Alastor's voice was noticeably deeper as he offered, "I think this deserves it's own reward."

Eloquently, Lucifer managed, "Um?"

"Your reward is: I'll let you in on a little secret." Amused with his response, Alastor stared up at him, eyes half-lidded as he stated, "I also seem to care about you, Lucifer Morningstar."

Lucifer froze, too stunned to speak. He felt like he had utterly and completely lost the script and had no idea where this was going. With anyone else, he might have been able to take that statement at face value, but Alastor had long since taught him that no weakness was too small for the redhead to exploit. Sputtering, he asked, "What?"

"Ah-ah, I know you heard me." Alastor's thumb rubbed along the edge of the top of Lucifer's pants, a simple back and forth motion the blonde was suddenly all too hyper aware of. Goosebumps broke out along the alabaster skin under the fabric. "No need for repeats just yet."

Lucifer wanted to pull away so he could clear his mind and think.

He wanted to lean in and soak up every bit of attention Alastor was willing to give him.

He swallowed. "But... but you don't even like me?" He meant it to be a statement, but it came out too much of a question. He knew he hadn't read the sinner wrong, and yet, here they were, very much off script for their usual back and forth. To say he was confused would be an understatement.

"Come now, your Majesty." Alastor narrowed his eyes, giving the blonde a gentle shake. "I think I know my own heart."

Lucifer didn't dare to breathe. "And what does your heart say?"

"That I can't think of anyone who suits me better than you do." Alastor leaned ever so slightly closer, their noses brushing as he brought their faces as close as they had been just before Mimsy had interrupted them. As close as they had been during their dance during Octavia's coming of age ceremony. "What does his Majesty's heart say?"

"Are you asking if we can get together?" Lucifer was getting too many mixed signals. He had to know what Alastor really wanted. "Romantically?"

"And if I am? Would you 'get together with me', sire?" Alastor's expression was surprisingly patient, as if he had all the time in the world to devote to sorting this out. "Romantically?"

Lucifer thought about all the times Alastor had tried to usurp his place at his own daughter's side. Thought about all the terrible, hurtful things he had said before and after Lucifer moved in. Thought of all the ways they fought and clashed with each other.

He also thought about how Alastor had helped him down from his panic attack. How it had felt to have someone come to his defense, even if he hadn't needed it. How it felt when they danced, both in private and in public. How the weight of his body had felt laying on top of his own.

He would be completely crazy to agree to this, but there was only one answer he could give.

"Yes."

Alastor's smile turned triumphant, but not mocking. "Fabulous!" He stood abruptly, knocking Lucifer off balance. The only thing that kept the little king from falling over backwards was the redhead's arm coming up around his shoulders. Lucifer's face briefly brushed a chest full of downy fur as he was spun around. The back of his knees barely had time to brush the mattress as Alastor deposited him down onto the side of the bed where he had been sitting second beforehand.

Lucifer stared blankly ahead of himself, not certain what had just happened. Not certain what was happening.

Alastor released him, stepping back and letting go of him completely. Lucifer's heart dropped down to his feet, for a split second thinking that he had gotten this wrong. That he had misread the situation. That this was just another game--

A hand pressed against his cheek, snapping him out of his spiral. When Lucifer looked up at him, he noted that the redhead had merely been buttoning up his shirt.

Alastor ran a thumb over his cheekbone, and then gave him a pat. "Now, I believe there's at least one person downstairs who would like to hear I've received a clear bill of health. Shall we go reassure her?" That patient expression was still firmly in place, his gift for reading people allowing him to pick up nearly immediately that Lucifer's mind set had begun to go downhill.

Lucifer still wasn't sure he understood what had just transpired between them. He needed Alastor to just be clear with him. "Wait, what about--?"

Alastor was already spinning around on his heel, slipping his arms into his coat and heading for the door. Over his shoulder, he called, "Come along, sire." He paused near the door, turning just enough to look back at Lucifer, who was still rooted to the spot on his bed. The sinner held out a hand, palm up in invitation. "I did say us, did I not? I believe we might have an announcement to make, do we not?"

A wave of relief washed over Lucifer. "You..." He jumped up from his seat, not quite running, but certainly not simply walking across the room to take hold of the offered hand before the offer was retracted. The leather of the glove was smooth and cold to the touch as he wrapped his hand around it. Lucifer stared down at their joined hands, marveling at the fact that he was being allowed to do so. He looked up at Alastor. "You want to go public? Just like that?"

He somehow would have thought Alastor would have just let people come to their own conclusions. He seemed the type to enjoy the attention of everyone's speculations.

Alastor pressed his free hand to his chest. "Sire!" His tone was scandalized, although his eyes were squinted with mirth. "Did you intend for me to be your dirty little secret?"

"No!" Lucifer flushed, trying to pull his hand back, only to be denied. He admittedly wasn't trying to free himself very hard. "I just..." He frowned, genuinely concerned. "It's so early and... new." He stared down at their hands, squeezing lightly. "Literally just now, new."

Alastor fell silent. He didn't appear to be offended by the protest. "Very well, your Majesty," he conceded. He released Lucifer's hand, bemused by his king's look of mourning at the loss of contact. "We will keep this between ourselves, although I doubt anyone is going to be fooled."

Lucifer decided if they were really going to start dating or whatever they were doing, they were going to nip that in the bud. Hands on his hips, he pointed out, "Well, they certainly might if you keep calling me that."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know... 'your majesty' and 'sire.'" Lucifer waved a hand in the space between them. "You can call me by my name. I know you know it." He smirked up at the sinner, regaining some of his confidence now that he was back on firmer ground and understood the situation better. "You said it not even ten minutes ago."

"Hm, Lu-ci-fer," Alastor said, drawing out the word as if he were tasting it. Trying out how he liked it. He pulled face. "I'll think about it."

"Ugh, why do you have to be so difficult?" Lucifer grumbled, half heartedly. He reminded himself that he had more or less done this to himself. He had accepted this idiot into his life with each inch of allowance he'd given and had now agreed to become romantically entangled with him on top of everything else.

"Ha!" Alastor opened his door. He held out his cane in front of him, indicating that Lucifer should go first. "We both know if I were agreeable all the time I would be boring." When the blonde cleared the door way, the redhead joined him in the hallway and shut the door behind himself. "And then where would we be?"

Boring was the last thing that came to mind if Lucifer were to describe Alastor. Alastor and boring were so utterly and completely not on speaking terms, they weren't even speaking the same language. He let the sinner set an easy pace as they made their way down the hallway to the main staircase. "Maybe." He was tempted to elbow the sinner, but just because he had been allowed some liberties, he wasn't certain how much (if anything) had changed on account of the change in their relationship status. He put it on a to-do list of things to discuss the next time they were alone. "But it would be nice if you were at least agreeable sometimes."

He wasn't actually expecting any sort of agreement on that part.

Sure enough. "It's too early in our relationship for me to start agreeing with everything you say, darling," Alastor snarked back without missing a beat. The ends of his lips quirked into something closer to a smirk.

Lucifer felt a shiver run up his spine at the pet name. No one had called him that in... well, he didn't even remember the last time Lilith had called him that. Called him anything other than his name, really. He had forgotten how nice something as simple as an endearment was.

Alastor's smile edged a little closer to a smirk until it was almost more smirk than smile at his reaction. Lucifer had the sudden foreboding feeling that the redhead was going to milk that new discovery for all it was worth.

He wasn't terribly worried about it.

As they made their way down the staircase, walking side by side, not touching, but standing a little closer to each other than, Lucifer felt like things might actually be turning around for the better. He was getting to repair his relationship with his daughter. He had a brand new romantic relationship to explore, something he hadn't had the chance to do in some ten thousand years. He was still having depression spells and there might be some backlash from Alastor's and Vox's ongoing sniping at each other, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.

He stared at Alastor out of the corner of his eye, an almost giddy feeling taking root in his heart as it started to really sink in that someone actually wanted him. Wanted to be with him.

He didn't have a clue what the sinner was thinking, nor was he absolutely convinced of Alastor's motives. He still had whatever his second favor was. However, mysterious motives and taciturn attitude aside, Alastor wasn't half bad as a catch, if he did say so himself. If Alastor was being honest about this, he thought they maybe actually had a shot at this.

Yes, Lucifer thought to himself, a slight skip in his step. Yes, he quite thought things were indeed looking up.

For a brief moment, he forgot that the universe hated him, always on the look out for when his life might be headed in a happier direction. That the universe had it out for him.

And it was more than happy to remind him of this fact.

tbc

Part 19

[pmaxshay]

Love Conquers All

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Fem)

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 2 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 4 ~

~ Part 6 ~ ~ The End ~

~ Part 5 ~ (Another long one!)

*warnings - slight smut, kissing, praise*

Trying to forget that night at the studio was proving a difficult task for Y/N. She hadn’t been to the Bridgerton home for a few days. Wanting to avoid any interaction with Benedict.

Although nothing untoward had occurred, it almost occurred and that would have nothing but consequences for Y/N. As much as they had shared some truths together, having relations with him would do her no favours. In fact it could ruin her and her Pa.

On the other hand, she lay awake at night. Remembering the way his hands felt against her own and then warmth of his body up against hers. The soft way he spoke to comfort her and how he had been so honest about his own losses.

It was conflicting to say the least.

Currently, she stood in front of her mirror. Her ladies maids preparing her for tonight’s ball.

“But what if I said I do not feel well May, then what?” Y/N protested.

“Then you would stay home Miss. However, I have every faith that you are well. You’ve played that trick far too much.” May replied a smug smirk in her face.

“Well you are no help.” Y/N huffed but soon took a sharp breath in when May pulled at the corset strings.

Meanwhile at the Bridgerton house, Benedict lay slumped on one of the couches, holding a box of macarons to his chest, stressfully stuffing multiple into his mouth at once.

Colin quickly appeared into the room, glanced around until his eyes landed upon his older brother.

“Brother, there you are. I’ve been meaning to ask, where did you and Y/N disappear to the other night?” He tried to take a macaron but Benedict slapped his hand away.

“Nowhere. I merely went to check she was okay and then sat and read with her a while and then went home. I wasn’t feeling well.” Benedict was wide-eyes but managed to mumble through mouthfuls of the sweet treat.

“Ah I see. You had Mother worried. Although, it was rather charming to see her smiling again. Lord Anderson must be doing some good at least.” Colin cooed.

“Brother do you really wish to know about Mother and Lord Anderson’s… relations?! I certainly do not!” Benedict grimaced.

Colin realised what he had said and did the same.

“No… you are right. Forget I said anything.” He quickly stood up and began to leave.

“Oh before I forget, Mother has informed me that we are to escort Eloise and Hyacinth to the ball tonight. She isn’t feeling well herself. Must be catching.” Colin announced before leaving the room.

“Dear god I hope not.” Benedict shuddered. Both at Colin’s statement but also at the thought of bumping into Y/N again. They had not seen or spoken to each other since that evening at the studio. Despite nothing happening, Benedict could not help but feel somewhat disappointed. Even though it would have disastrous effects on Y/N and her Father. Something he did not wish to inflict upon someone he cared rather a lot for.

Some time later, Benedict took Eloise’s arm and Colin Hyacinth’s as they entered the ballroom.

While not as lavish as some other balls this season, this one had a subtle charm and grace that everyone seemed to appreciate.

From across the ballroom, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the Bridgerton siblings enter. Her stomach twisted into knots at the sight of Benedict. All the feelings she had been trying to hide came rushing back to the surface. She gulped a large sip of her lemonade.

Richard was making small talk with the Wetherbys. Their eldest son was trying to talk to Y/N but the topic was boring dull. He may be handsome of face but personality he is not.

Little did Y/N know, Mr Bridgerton had also spotted her. Standing next to her father and the Wetherbys. A perfectly decent family but incredibly dull. Benedict laughed when he saw the expression written all over Y/N’s face. However, he could not stop the feeling of jealously creep in. It should be he that she is standing with. He, that should be asking her to dance and getting to know her better, not dull and boring Charles Wetherby.

“What is so funny Brother?” Eloise asked with a smile.

“Oh no it’s, it’s nothing. Not for your delicate, young ears dear Sister.” Benedict teased, being brought back to reality.

“You are no fun. I’m going to go find Y/N. At least she shares her humour.” Eloise sighed detaching from Benedict and sulking off.

Even the mere mention of her name made his heart skip.

“Are you sure you are feeling alright Brother? You are looking rather peaky? You must have what Mother has.” Colin asked rather concerned.

“Colin is right. You don’t look well. Maybe you should go home.” Hyacinth chimed in. Placing a hand on Benedict’s arm.

Benedict glanced over at Y/N and then back to his siblings.

“Perhaps you are both right. I shall go and rest. Colin are you alright to stay with…”

Colin cut him off.

“Of course. See to it that you do rest. You’ve been acting strangely for a while. Will check on you later.” Colin hummed.

Benedict patted Colin’s shoulder and smiled at Hyacinth before turning to walk back out of the ball.

His legs carried him quickly out into the cold, night air. He took rather large gulps of air to steady his breathing.

As quickly as he had run out, Y/N came barreling out of the ball equally as fast. She took similar gulps of air but gasped as soon as she spotted Benedict.

“Apologises. I did not know you would be out here.” She huffed, placing a hand over her mouth to try to silence her breaths.

“It is… uhmmm…” Benedict coughed.

“It is quite alright Y/N. I just needed some air.”

“Oh.”

“Me too.” She continued.

Benedict glanced her way. The moonlight had given her a glow. A subtle sparkle. He questioned whether it was real or just something only he could see about her.

“I… I saw you with Lord Wetherby.” Benedict announced, trying to hide the jealously in his voice.

“And that is your business now is it Benedict?” Y/N replied, he had never heard such harshness to her tone before. As much as he feared it, he also felt that fiery heat. It angered him also that despite what they had shared she still denies him.

She had swiftly stepped closer now, further into the shadows of the building where he stood.

“It is none of my business who you choose to concern yourself with Y/N. I am merely saying that someone like Wetherby would not be right for you.”

“And who would be right for me?! Who are you to choose for me?!” Y/N whisper yelled. Cautious that footmen and guests were walking nearby.

Benedict stayed silent, stunned by Y/N standing up for herself with such bravery. He also feared he would say something he may regret so it was easy to stay quiet.

Y/N tilted her head and looked right at him. She began to laugh coldly.

“You? Would you be right for me Mr Bridgerton?!” Y/N shocked herself by saying such words. Up until now she had been feeling brave and bold and could not stand for being told who she spends time with.

It was Benedict’s silence that caused this newfound confidence to plummet. She did not wish to presume but maybe he felt exactly what it was that she was feeling.

“You cannot deny that there is something there. Even you are not that blind.” Benedict was finding his voice again. He was not willing to let this go.

“If you are addressing what happened the other evening… I do not wish to address it further.” Y/N whispered. Trying to turn away from him.

Benedict was too quick though and caught her arm. Twisting her back to face him. The heat rose in her body and so did it in his. The two of them gazed at each other for what felt like an eternity.

“You do not have to address I t. However, I do. It is all I have thought about. Every single moment since that day you have inhabited every thought of every second. In all my years I have never been this consumed by another person. I have always been the carefree, liberal man I have wanted to be. I have been allowed to have that for which I am grateful, but that is no longer me. I am changed. Changed by you.”

Y/N did not know how long she had been holding her breath for. She let out a shallow shaky breath.

“From the moment you entered that ballroom until this exact moment, it is you. No one else dear Y/N. My Y/N.” Benedict’s hand had began to tremble ever so slightly against her arm. A feeling that sent a pang of guilt through Y/N but also lust.

To know all of this. His true, honest feelings towards her was like hitting the right chord after practicing for so long.

“Benedict…” Y/N managed to whisper. Without saying the actual words, in fears she would mess it all up, she tried to convey she felt the same.

“You do not have to feel the same. It is alright. I shall not live any longer without expressing my true feelings.”

“Benedict.” Y/N said once more, with much more force but so much more lust.

He gazed into her eyes, then down at her mouth and back to her eyes once more. From the tone of her voice and her body language it finally clicked.

Without hesitation, he yanked at her arm and pulled her closer. His head pushing down, his lips crashing against hers in a swift motion.

The two of them locked in an embrace filled with so much passion and desire that they almost forgot where they were.

Benedict pulled back.

“Please don’t stop.” Y/N whined. Her eyes still closed.

Benedict laughed softly at her before speaking.

“I do not plan to. But not here. Too many eyes and ears.” He whispered, taking her hand and rushing towards the nearest carriage.

The all familiar studio awaited them. Benedict shrugged off his jacket. Throwing it onto the nearest object.

Y/N stood in the doorway, not knowing how to proceed.

“Come here.” Benedict hummed, holding out his hand. Y/N hesitated but moved closer taking his hand in hers. As soon as she was close, he softly caressed a hand up against her cheek and back towards neck. Craning it so that she was looking up at him.

“I have an idea.” He whispered.

“Hmmm.” Was all Y/N could manage with a small nod.

He took this as confirmation. Grabbing her hand once more and leading her towards the settee in the middle of the room.

“You can say no whenever. We stop when you say stop. But, I would very much like to… draw you.” He sighed.

“Draw me?” Y/N questioned.

Benedict nodded feverishly.

“And how… would you… would you like me?” Y/N drawled out. Wanting to be good for him.

By the way he swallowed hardly and sucked in a sharp breath she could tell it was working.

“I would like you in so many ways Miss Y/N. For now however, I want you to undress.”

Y/N gulped down the nerves. Her hands trembling somewhat but managing to slowly reach up and take her hair down. It cascades across her shoulders and sits just below her shoulders. The way Benedict was reacting, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and his lips parting, gave her so much confidence. She then, removed her gloves, playfully deciding to throw them towards him. He laughs proudly, a glint in his eyes.

She continues, removing her dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. This is where she falters. Needing some help with the strings of her corset.

“I… uh..” she clears her throat.

“May need some assistance, Mr Bridgerton.”

The way she spoke his name had him weak in the knees. She had no idea the things she did to him, the sheer notion of her.

He sauntered over. His hands gently caressing her bare shoulders from behind. She shivered but urged him to continue. His hands travel softly to the strings, pulling them one by one until the corset hangs loose.

Y/N shrugs it away and is left torso bare but turned away from him. She quickly shuffles out of her skirts and lets them drop also.

Benedict is yet to see her. All of her, but knows it will be worth the wait. He leans down towards her neck and begins planting kisses along her skin down to her shoulders and back up again. Her head tilts slightly to make room for him.

“Please Ben.” Y/N moans.

“Gosh you make it difficult to hold out. But I must capture you. After all, you are my muse. Ever since I met you, truly, met you. It’s like the pencil just uses itself. Before I was struggling, had no inspiration or ideas. But you, you sparked it. You lit the flame that had been stagnant.” He continued to kiss her soft skin.

“I want you to lie down.” He began.

“I will walk back over to the easel and when I turn around I want you here.”

He moved away, walking back over to the chair beside the easel. He had not been gone long but she missed the warmth of his body and the praise that he had been so happy to give.

She did as she was told though, sitting on the settee and then shifting so that she was horizontal. Facing where he was sat. As soon as she was comfortable, he turned.

From the sharp breath to the indescribable look in his eye, Y/N could see the effect she continued to have on him. It felt nice to cause such emotion in another person. For them to want you.

“You are… otherworldly.” He stumbled out, clearing his throat.

His hands soon began to make light work on the easel, sketching out lines. His brow furrowing in concentration.

As much as Y/N was enjoying herself, the confidence she had gained had made her bold and mischievous.

Using one of her hands, she began to caress her own body. Needing to feel something more, to elevate this already lustful scenario.

Benedict caught on quite quickly, he opened his mouth to scold her but was quickly transfixed by the sinful sight before him. He felt his arousal grow and the heat become almost unbearable.

“You are a surprise Y/N.” He croaked.

“Do you mean to say you underestimated me Mr Bridgerton?” She cooed.

“Keep calling me that I will have to make up for my underestimations.” He uttered, his arousal clearly taking over.

“Please.” She moaned. Her hand travelling further and further down her body.

Before she could get any further, Benedict shot up from his seat and marched over to her. Pulling his braces down and removing his shirt. Throwing each item of clothing across the room. He swiftly hoisted himself onto the settee and towered above her.

“But you’re drawing?” Y/N whispered.

“Damn the drawing. It most definitely can wait.” He drawled out, leaning down to kiss her once more.

~

The early morning sun beamed through the window and illuminated Y/N’s soft skin. Benedict had resumed his position by the easel and continued to create. His brow furrowed once more.

He stopped a number of times to just gaze at the beautiful creature that slept before him. He was pleasantly surprised by how knowledgable she had been of ‘intimate relations’ despite never having partaken herself. It excited him, that she had knowledge and was eager to learn but he was excited that he was also the first. Her first and hopefully both of their lasts.

His pencil created stokes across the parchment, the sound bringing him great comfort and joy. He had missed this sound due to his lack of a muse. He glanced Y/N once more.

No longer was he without one. A smile crept on his face just as Y/N began to stir. He watched her as she shifted groggily and slowly opened her eyes.

He kept his mouth shut but laughed softly at her sleepy expression.

“Did you even sleep?” She yawned.

“Somewhat. However, I made a promise to myself.” He cooed.

Y/N now sat upright, using some of the sheets to cover her naked body.

“And what promise was that?” She smirked.

“I decided that if I could finish this by the time you awoke. I would ask you to marry me.”

[thefrogdalorian]

Hello and welcome to my contribution to Dincember!

Following NaNoWriMo (which I used to complete a draft of a modern AU!Din x reader fic that I aim to start posting in January) I wanted to attempt another writing project to maintain my sanity during this festive period! I'm aiming to complete all 25 days but life can sometimes be unpredictable, especially at this time of year.

I really hope you enjoy my interpretations of each prompt and best of luck if you're also participating, can't wait to see what everyone creates. Thanks @dindjarindiaries for putting these prompts together, celebrating all things Din is a wonderful way to close out the year!

All my fics are GN!reader and I don't include physical descriptions. Nothing more mature than a bit of smooching either :)

Happy Dincember, tumblr!

Link to read on AO3 | Link to read in Chronological Order

Day 1 - Snow: After a busy few months, Din surprises you and Grogu with a well-earned retreat to a snowy paradise in the run up to Life Day. Snow-filled chaotic fun ensues!

Day 2 - Fire: During a trip to a peaceful cabin with Din and Grogu, you awake one morning and discover that Grogu is poorly. You and Din are extremely worried but after a visit from a healer and the warmth of the fire you light, his condition soon improves.

Day 3 - Gloves: As you sit watching Grogu play by the fire while holding hands with Din, you reflect on how a simple part of his body says so much about the complex man that you are so privileged to love. A simple pleasure that you would have been denied, if he had never removed his gloves.

Day 4 - Lights: You introduce Din to a favourite Life Day tradition of yours: hanging up lights. It's a tradition that he finds slightly bemusing but after a slight hiccup which is soon resolved, thanks to the abilities possessed by Grogu, the two of you set about making a cheesy new Life Day tradition all of your own.

Day 5 - Cold: After your favourite Mandalorian's latest assignment with the New Republic means that his return to your cabin is delayed, you head to bed, thoroughly miserable. But when Din finally arrives home the reunion does not go entirely smoothly, as you find yourself needing to warm him up, with adorable consequences.

Day 6 - Gifts: It's Life Day and time for you and Din exchange gifts. You love sharing in the joy of seeing others surprised with your gifts, but nothing surprises you more than the incredibly thoughtful gift Din gives to you.

Day 7 - Star: As you lie on Din's strong chest, looking at the stars and reflecting how grateful you are that your paths crossed, you discover once again, that the man with the fearsome reputation is incredibly soft underneath his hard Beskar shell.

Day 8 - Flame: A fire pit outside your little cabin on Nevarro has always been a dream of yours. So, when Din finally agrees to build one, you are delighted, especially when he secures your favourite sweet treats too. But it's Din's first time roasting candy on a campfire and things don't exactly go to plan...

Day 9 - Boots: Raising a Force-sensitive child is not an easy task, especially one as mischievous as Grogu. When the little guy decides to play a game of hide and seek without telling you and Din first, you find him in a place that you would never have expected.

Day 10 - Sweater: After his latest job with the New Republic takes him away from your home, you find yourself missing Din terribly. But, despite how sappy and lame as you feel for doing so, you find wearing his sweater brings you a great deal of comfort when you need it most.

Day 11 - Icicle: An innocent icicle causes Din to reminisce on a moment he shared with Grogu on the Razor Crest shortly after rescuing The Child from the Imps on Nevarro.

Day 12 - Warmth: After you find yourself caught up in a rainstorm that drenches you to the bone on the forest planet you call home, an unexpectedly kind Mandalorian helps you to get warm again.

Day 13 - Family: Din Djarin is a complex man, with many walls you have not yet successfully broken down. You have been slowly building a life with the man who has a traumatic past he has alluded to, but never discussed in detail. One night, Din wakes up from a nightmare and finally lets you in. You comfort him, reminding him of your love for him and how much he deserves his unlikely family.

Day 14 - Home: During a moment cuddling with Din underneath the festive lights in your cabin, Din confides in you what home means to him.

Day 15 - Candle: Despite planning a special evening to mark your final night in the cabin that you, Din and Grogu have enjoyed a relaxing vacation in, your plans are soon thwarted by an unexpected power cut. However, the sudden loss of light ends up having very romantic consequences.

Day 16 - Sweet: After a tiring day of yard work, you decide to introduce Din and Grogu to one of your favourite festive drinks: hot chocolate. Although the sweetness proves a little too much for one of your Clan.

Day 17 - Joy: Despite you and Din having plans to go to a special festive market with Grogu, you wake up feeling awful, as though all festive cheer has been sucked out of you. Fortunately, you have a loving and caring Mandalorian who helps you regain your joy.

Day 18 - Snowflake: As Din stands by the window, watching the snow fall outside your cabin in the mountain paradise he brought you to for a vacation, he reveals a hilarious memory of his first encounter with snow to you. One that you are keen not to let him forget in a hurry.

Day 19 - Coat: You and Din arrive for a vacation in a picturesque snowy mountain town. There's just one problem: you brought the wrong coat. You head into town in search of the perfect coat but after a long day of fruitless searching, fortunately you have an incredibly patient and attentive Mandalorian to help you through the shopping stress.

Day 20 - Celebration: To show Din how much he means to you, you decide to make a special gesture in celebration of him by cooking him a traditional Mandalorian feast. Despite having your heart set on a perfect evening, a certain green child has other ideas...

Day 21 - Love: Despite how much time you have been spending with Din and getting to know him, you are still none the wiser as to whether your feelings for him are reciprocated. But an impromptu night of stargazing leads to a confession that may just change everything for the two of you...

Day 22 - Cozy: When Grogu wakes up upset in the middle of the night, both you and Din are concerned for him. But getting cozy and cuddling with his Clan soon brightens the little boy's mood.

Day 23 - Frost: You and Din wake up one morning to discover the volcanic planet you call home has been plunged into a deep frost. You are awestruck by the gleaming ground and the icy crystals that cling to every surface. You and Din decide to head out for a walk with Grogu, who is fascinated by the way his favourite pond has frozen over.

Day 24 - Ice: The unseasonably weather on Nevarro causes a pond to freeze and thanks to a stroke of good luck, a passing vendor is able to offer the opportunity to skate on it. You expect that Din will be a natural, but things do not go entirely to plan.

Day 25 - Holiday Waking up before Din on Life Day gives you the opportunity to admire all the little details and features of the man you love so much.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, ultimatum

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Summary: it's time for you and clint to face the music. and each other.

Warnings: angst, fluff.

Word Count: 2,718

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Sixty-Four Days

Early afternoon sunlight urged your eyelids to part, and you woke reluctantly, cocooned comfortably in the sheets. Your body ached pleasantly as you stirred, and heat rose in your cheeks as the night before came back to you. Squeezing your thighs together briefly, you finally opened your eyes properly. The warmth in your face increased as your gaze focused on the expanse of Clint’s thigh, the tanned skin only interrupted by the dark cotton of his boxer briefs.

He was sitting up against the headboard, his chest still bare, his hand wrapped around the coffee cup balanced on the thigh closest to you. The scent of it teased at your sleep-addled senses, and you groaned softly. His gaze had been fixed blankly across the room, a furrow between his brows, but at your stirring he turned his attention towards you.

“You’re awake.”

“Looks that way,” you mumbled, your voice rough from the night before.

It was so worn after what you’d done only hours ago, and the memory of your eyes rolling back as Clint’s mouth had found the side of your neck made butterflies rise in your stomach. His mouth on your throat had meant that he’d felt your moan build before it even escaped you, and his teeth had grazed over your pulse point. Even then, the sound had been hoarse, torn and desperate as his hands had tightened on your waist and his cock had filled you again.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to both improve your voice and draw your own attention back from what you’d done the night before. “…And you’re still here.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said them, but a self-deprecating smirk touched Clint’s lips. “Yeah.”

Face still tucked against the pillow, you nodded towards the mug in his hand. “Is there any more of that?”

“Behind you.”

You rubbed at your eye, holding the sheet against your chest as you rolled over to find another mug sitting on the bedside table. Smiling, you pushed yourself up as you picked it up, leaning on your elbow as you turned back to him and took a grateful sip.

And immediately grimaced. “It’s cold.”

“Yep,” he replied simply, taking your cup and setting both his and yours on the table on his side of the bed. “But it was a nice gesture about half an hour ago.”

You breathed a quiet laugh through your nose, playing with the edge of the blanket as you lay back against the pillows again. Somehow, despite his attention being in his lap, the light of day had you feeling much more exposed than before. “So, uh… how long exactly have you been awake?”

Clint shrugged a shoulder noncommittedly. His hair was still mussed – from sleep and the way you’d carded your fingers through it – and you swallowed as you noticed the red lines marking his shoulders and arms. “A while.”

“Clint.” you said guardedly. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” he nodded distractedly. His tone sounded light but you could hear the way he forced it. His hand moved towards you for a moment as though he was about to touch yours reassuringly, but it returned to his lap. Clint’s voice dropped further, and the tired note in his tone had nothing to do with how much sleep he’d missed. “Yeah. ‘Course I did.”

You sighed heavily at his tone, sitting up and turning your back to him. “Right.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not doing this again, Clint.” you said, shaking your head and turning your eyes to the ceiling. “I can’t do this again.”

“I…” Clint pushed himself up straighter against the headboard, his brow furrowed as he searched for a response.

You pressed your lips together, closing your eyes as you forced back the nerves climbing in your chest. Your tone turned gentle but firm. “I know what you’re going through, Barton. I know it’s something I… that I can’t even pretend to understand. And while I’m here for you, I really, truly am… I can’t do this.”

You picked up the first shirt within reach – his – and pulled it over your head before turning around to face him. The worn, thin cotton did next to nothing to build your confidence, but it was easier to get the words out while not completely naked. Still, you felt goosebumps rise on your exposed skin as you met his eye.

God, you’d left a hickey on the side of his neck.

“I can’t be doing… this—” you gestured to the mess of sheets between you. “—with someone when they’re not here with me.”

There was something unreadable in his eyes. “I am—”

“You’re not, though.” you said, resigned. “You’re really not.”

He stopped, swallowing as his eyes fell towards the mattress. When you’d turned to face him, you’d leaned on your hand, your fingers curled in the sheets a few inches from his own. Maybe you saw his hand move forward… maybe… but you stood, stepping back away from the bed before his hand could make contact with yours.

You met his eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip. His shirt barely brushed against your thighs, a scare inch or so of thin fabric protecting your modesty. You really should have waited to have this conversation until after you’d put on pants. “Yeah, maybe you stayed this time, but… did you really want to?”

Clint’s gaze remained on his hand, and you sighed, rounding the bed towards the bathroom.

“I did.”

You stopped mid-step, folding your arms around your middle.

“I…” Clint exhaled. “I wanted to… I want…”

You heard him shift on the mattress, and you turned around as he swung his legs off the side of it. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers fisting in at the nape of his neck for a moment before his hand fell back to his lap.

“I felt… I feel guilty. Being with you.” he explained, his voice quiet. He waved a hand back towards the sheets. “Being with you like this. It’s like I’m… betraying Laura.”

“Clint…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the rest of the sentence.

She’s gone.

“I know,” he said, swallowing thickly. You watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I know she’s… but it’s not just that it feels like cheating, it’s…” he met your eye again, and you almost broke in your resolve. “When I’m with you… when I’m close to you, I… I don’t feel so bad.”

“And that’s…?”

“It’s wrong, Y/N.” he sighed, his gaze falling again. Like looking at you was… tempting? Painful? “And I can’t feel that way. I can’t forget them like that.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly before moving towards him again. Kneeling in front of him, you forced him to meet your eye again You wanted to touch his cheek, but you felt your hand shake. Instead, you reached out to where his hands were clasped tightly together in his lap, covering them both with your palm.

“I understand, Clint.” you said softly. “I do. But I can’t keep doing this if all it is is a moment of weakness for you. I can’t be something you regret.”

“…Are you leaving?”

You shook your head, withdrawing your hand. “No. I’m not leaving. But I’m taking this – what we did, what we’ve been doing – off the table. I’m putting distance back between us. No more blurred lines – it’s confusing for both of us. If you can find a way for you to…” you stood, taking a step back. “Until you can let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling for me without… I’ll keep my distance, okay?”

There was a long moment between you as your words sunk in, but finally, Clint nodded.

“Okay.” you forced a small smile onto your face. “I’m going… I need a shower. Don’t disappear, okay?”

He nodded again, and you could feel his eyes on you as you finally retreated to the safety of the adjacent room.

As soon as the door was closed, you leaned back against it, closing your eyes. This was the right decision. It was. But a very loud part of you was screaming at you to turn around and tell him that you were taking it back.

The mirror hung on the wall opposite you, and your gaze lingered on the litany of evidence of your night together. The mussed hair, the light pattern of bruises on the side of your neck that continued down beneath his shirt. His shirt…

“Fuck…” you muttered to yourself, pulling it off and tossing it aside. Your eyes caught the mark he’d left on the swell of your left breast and you turned away, slamming the handle for hot water as far as it would go.

This was the right decision.

Right?

***

The tension in the apartment was heavy when you’d finally pulled yourself away from the shower’s scalding spray, but Clint had mercifully vacated your bedroom by the time you’d come back out. You’d tried to pull on the first clothes you could find, wincing as the burn on your back pulled against your skin. You should have asked Clint to re-dress it, but apparently, you’d used up all your confidence before you’d showered. So, instead you’d spent twenty minutes haphazardly taping a new patch of gauze over the burn with your back to the mirror and found a tank top that was cut low enough the back to not snag any of the tape you might not have reached to push down against your skin.

You’d tried to ignore the clothes still scattered across the carpet in your room, ignore the scent of sex still clinging to the mess of sheets. You stripped them from the mattress, tossing them into the corner and sat down, taking a shuddering breath.

Well… fuck.

You’d given him an ultimatum.

Just how quickly was it going to come around and bite you in the ass?

You’d left the apartment with the claim that you needed to pick up more supplies; Clint had nodded, his back to you as he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. “Okay.”

That had been four hours ago, and all you had to show for your time gone was a paltry bag of medical supplies and a couple of sandwiches from a nearby gas station. Sighing heavily, you unlocked the door, the hooks of expectation digging deeper into your flesh as you were suddenly sure that you’d find him gone.

Again.

The apartment was much in the same state in which you’d left it, and you felt something in you release as you saw Clint’s gear still propped up near the kitchen counter. Your shoulders loosened, and you ran a hand through your hair. He was still here.

You barely made it a few more steps before a noise suddenly came from behind the wood of his bedroom door; the muffled sound of something shattering and a pained groan. The bag fell from your fingertips immediately, and you summoned a sphere of psychokinetic energy to burn against the palm of your hand.

“Clint?”

Your voice came too softly, and you cleared your throat as you approached his door, the energy in your hand swelling to the size of a baseball.

“Clint?”

“Y/N…” the response was quiet and strained, a low groan, and anxiety sunk its talons further between your ribs. Sparks danced down over your wrist, your other hand clutching the door handle and pushing it slowly open.

The room was dim, curtains drawn against what was left of the early evening light; your eyes adjusted quickly, and you released the energy with a sigh despite the worry still knitting your brow. Clint was in bed, sheets tangled around his legs and a lamp broken on the hardwood floor beside him, a casualty from the bedside table.

He whimpered, turning in his sleep, his brow furrowed and his hand fisting in the sheet. Frowning, you hurried to his side, reaching out to touch his shoulder as he rolled towards you.

“Clin—”

You broke off suddenly as Clint’s eyes snapped open, his hand grabbing your outstretched arm by the wrist in a painfully tight grip. His other hand moved so quickly you barely saw it, a knife clutched in his fist. You reacted in the same moment, a shield expanding in front of your chest just before the tip of the blade could meet your throat.

Clint blinked, the remnants of sleep slowly clearing from his eyes. The two of you stayed frozen in that tableau, the blue light of your shield casting shadows over the two of you as though you were suspended in water. The archer swallowed heavily, his grip on your wrist easing incrementally.

“Clint?” you repeated softly, twisting your wrist in his hand to touch gentle fingers to his arm. The sensation seemed to bring him back to the surface, drag himself out of where ever his mind had taken him, and you reduced the shield as the knife was lowered back to the mattress. “You with me?”

He nodded slowly, finally releasing your wrist. A dull ache thrummed through it, but you ignored it, kneeling beside the bed and reaching out to carefully ease the knife out of his hand. He let you, his fingers warm against your own before you set the blade on the bedside table.

“You were dreaming,” you explained softly, watching him run a hand through his hair, propping himself up on his other arm. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were still having dreams like that.”

“Yeah…” he muttered; his voice rough. “It’s easier to keep them to myself when we’re not sharing a Winnebago.”

You frowned, hesitating a moment before reaching up to smooth your hand over his cheek. Clint’s eyes closed briefly at the touch. His hand moved upward, as though to cover yours, but it retreated, curling in the sheets.

“What can I do?”

Clint shook his head, pulling away from your touch. “’m fine.”

“I’m starting to think we should get that tattooed on our foreheads,” you muttered to yourself, noticing the corner of Clint’s lips twitch into a momentary smile. It was tiny, then it was gone. “How much sleep did you actually get last night, Clint?”

He cleared his throat, rubbing his hand over his bare chest. “I don’t know… a couple of hours, maybe.”

You frowned, studying his face, the shadows under his eyes.

“Move over.”

His expression unreadable, Clint did as you asked, pushing himself back on the mattress to make space for you. You straightened, toeing off your boots and shrugging off your jacket before lowering yourself onto the mattress beside him. The bedframe creaked softly under the new weight, and Clint watched you with a kind of careful curiosity as you tried to find a position to settle in.

You finally came to rest stretched out on your side beside him, your face pressed against the pillow. You tried to ignore the way the bed smelled of him. Clint didn’t need to ask what you intended, but he hesitated before moving to mirror your position. He watched your expression with those clever eyes for a long, weighted moment before he moved, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Warmth rose in your cheeks as he settled his head against your chest, his arm moving down to instead wind around your thighs, banding just below the curve of your backside. His fingers curled against the small of your back. You wrapped an arm around him, trying not to let your mind linger on the warmth of his skin beneath your hand.

“Doesn’t this… what we’re doing right now…” Clint began quietly, as though unwilling to continue the sentence. The warmth of his breath tickled against the base of your throat. “…Doesn’t this violate the whole ‘distance’ rule you put in this morning?”

Your other hand rose to run fingers through his hair carefully, fingertips grazing the nape of his neck. He sighed under your touch. “Will this help you?”

He nodded; his face still buried against your chest. “Yeah… Yeah, it will.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to close your eyes and relax. “Then it’s okay.”

.

.

.

tags:@trekkingaroundasgard@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@lol-you-thought@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies@youralphawolf72@maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky@melaclintbartoncorner@loki-is-loved@whovianayesha@bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics@ace-fandom-dumbass@kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa@earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86@darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

AN: I know I'm a heartless bitch, but I promise they're not done with each other yet.

[loving08]

I Love You

Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Summary: Y/N has been working in the BAU for a year now, she is satisfied where she is along with her crush on her Boss Aaron Hotchner, but the entry of a new person would broke her or will she be able to be with man she love.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Epilogue

The next morning Hotch woke up to little clattering sounds around the house, he sits up quickly, wide awake but relaxed when he heard the sound of laughter and realized there is no danger. After Haley's death he had become more aware and protective over Jack. He just shook his head and gets up to freshen up.

He goes down stairs and towards the kitchen and lean onto the kitchen doorframe and looked at Y/N and Jack who didn't noticed his presence and were in their own world. He had a smile on his face and after a little while Y/N looked up and saw him at the doorframe looking at them, she shyly smiled at him and said "Hey, good morning", hearing her Jack turned his head and gave a big smile to Hotch and cheerly said "Good morning daddy, we made breakfast". Hotch walked up to them and said "Good morning to you both too, I see you have done great buddy" and kissed Jack's forehead. Jack smiled and said "I just helped a little daddy, Y/N is the one who actually made the breakfast".

Hotch looked up at Y/N and said "well then I should thank her then" and walked up to her. Y/N still smiling shyly said "ooh there's no need to thank me, I was just up and had nothing to do so I made breakfast for all of us". Hotch looked at her adorably and took a sit at the stool and Y/N gave the food to both the father-son duo and they all ate breakfast together. After finishing Y/N took their plates to wash despite Hotch protest. Hotch looked at Jack and said "Jack go get ready for school, Jessica will be here soon to pick you up". Jack just nodded his head and ran upstairs. Hotch stands up and goes towards Y/N and stand beside her and said "Thank you Y/N, for everything", Y/N looked up at him and gave him a small smile and said "no need to thank me Hotch really, I didn't did much okay it was just a little breakfast" and let out a small laugh.

"I'm not just talking about the breakfast, I'm thank you for everything that you have done for this whole year, for Jack and me, it has been a blessing for us , so thank you , thank you for coming into our lives", Y/N and Hotch looked at each other and they were so lost in each other eyes they didn't realized that someone was knocking on the door not until Hotch phone ranged and they both broke the eye contact, Hotch picked up his phone to look at the contact and realized Jessica must be at the door and he goes to the door and opened it for her all while Y/N eyes were on him.

Jessica comes inside and greets them both when Jack comes downstairs, ready and all. At the door Jack was saying his bye to Hotch and looked up at Y/N and said "you will come next time right for a sleep over, I really want to have a sleep over with you again". Y/N beamed up at him and crotched down to his height and took his hands and said "I will baby, I will come again and we will have a sleepover again, I promise okay, now c'mon give me a big hug and have good day at school". They both hug each other and bid goodbyes and Jessica and Jack left.

Y/N turned to Hotch and said "I'm sorry I didn't asked you before agreeing to another sleepover, I just... I wasn't able to say no to him when he looked so cute and hopeful while asking". Hotch let out a laugh and said "I know how hard it is to say no when he does that, and he also know how to make someone say yes, so I knew you will not be able to say no to that and It's not like I have any problem with it, I have always said it before and I will say it again you are always welcome here anytime, now let's go we also need to get ready and go we don't have much time left" and walked back to his room and if he had looked back at Y/N he would have seen her reddened cheeks, blushing after hearing his words.

They both get ready and left for work, reaching there Hotch parked his car and they both goes inside the BAU. Upon reaching there, they part ways and when Y/N goes to sit on her chair someone took hold of her hand and take her to the break room, she turned to the person and realized it was Spencer and looking at his face she knew what he was going to ask and said "nothing happened Spence, everything was normal okay", Spencer gave out a pout and said "I didn't even asked yet, how do you know what I'm going to ask??". "you don't need to ask for me to know what you want to know, your facial expression is enough to know what you are up to" and rolled her eyes at him fondly, she knows no matter how much she tried acting annoyed at him she will never be really angry at him, it was a fact.

"tsk something should have happen, I didn't just let you both go to not do anything" and shook his disappointedly. Y/N let out a sigh and said "there's nothing for it to happen Spence, Hotch just think of me as a co-worker or even friend but nothing more than that, let's just....just let it go okay" and walked out of the break room leaving Spencer behind. Everybody got to work and start doing the paper works and soon it was time for them to go to Rossi's mansion for their little party. Y/N was about to go to the lift when Hotch walked up to her and said "do you want me to drop you at your house and pick you up for the party?". Y/N shook her head and said "no it's okay actually, Spencer gonna pick me up for the party so I'm gonna take the ride with him, you don't have to come all the way to my house Hotch". Hotch just nodded at her and they both took the lift.

Reaching the garage they both noticed Beth with Spencer, reaching near them Y/N asked "hey Beth, you waiting for someone?". Beth just gave a tight smile to Y/N and turned towards Hotch, basically ignoring everything Y/N asked which didn't go unnoticed by the two male. Beth looked at Hotch with a big smile and said "Aaro..I mean sir can you give me a lift to my house, I didn't came with my car today so can you please drop me off and pick me up for the party too, I might get exhausted and don't wanna drive there, please sir" and looked hopefully at him. Hotch knows what actually happening here, it's not like Beth even tried to hide her feelings at all, he didn't had problem before but now it was starting to become one. He just sighed and looked towards Y/N, noticing her eyes at him and let out another sigh and said "okay I...I will give you a lift but I can't pick you up, my son and I need to spent some quality time so it will be better if you book yourself a cab or something", he knows it's a lame excuse but he didn't had any other idea. Beth nodded her dejectedly and goes towards his car knowing her plan failed of spending some alone time with him.

Hotch turned towards Y/N and Spencer, looked at Y/N and said "see you at the party then" and turned to walk to his car when he suddenly stopped and turned back to them and said "and...um.... I need to tell you something, so let's have talk there too" and then walked up to his car and drove off. Y/N and Spencer looked at each other and gave a look to one another and gets inside the car and they too drive out of the garage. On the way Y/N can sense that Spencer wants to say something and turned towards him and said "okay out with it, whatever you want to say just say it". Spencer looked at her a little then turned back to the road and said "I just want to say that I have a good feeling about this party, like something good and big going to happen but that might involve you...."and paused, "and Hotch right" said Y/N. Spencer just sighed and nodded his head at her. Y/N let out a long sigh and said "Spence I know what you mean but I just can't make myself think that Hotch might be feeling something for me, there's might and what ifs and I don't want to think of those things at all and now there's Beth who has feelings for Hotch and he might like her back....I.....just don't know what to feel anymore Spence, its getting so much hard, why do I have to fall for him, why not someone else, why didn't I fall for you rather than him" and let a single tear roll down her cheek.

Spencer parked outside her apartment building and totally turned towards her and said "it is how love works maybe, I have read in a book that quoted that there is no love if there is no pain, I don't know much about love Y/N but let me tell you one thing for sure, maybe right now even Hotch hasn't realized what he feels for you but I know he feels something for you, I'm not giving you any hopes I'm just telling you what I have seen, something is bound to happen Y/N I can feel it, we can just hope that its something good" and gently wiped her tears and teasingly said "and hey its really not too late to fall for me, you can you know, I can be more charming for you to say that, tell me Y/N do you really love Hotch or its me, hmmm?". Y/N let out a small laugh and smacked his shoulder and said "shut up idiot, I do love you just not in that way". They both laugh a little and Spencer let her know that he will pick her up in an hour and they bid goodbyes to each other.

[yujo-nishimura]

Whispers of the Desert Kingdom - Part 6

Warning: Sir Crocodile x fem reader, English is not my native language, not proof-read, age gap - forced marriage, angst and manipulation, mention of intercourse

Taglist: @mcgeemouse , @fan-g0rl , @vexladin

words: 1481

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you as you finally sat down on your bed in the quiet confines of your room. The festivities had finally ceased, and you were left overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you throughout the day. You hadn't realized that you had been awake since the early morning and now it was way past midnight. 

Reflecting upon the day's events, you couldn't help but feel a sense of missing Vivi, wishing she could have been there to share in the celebration and be amazed together with you by the seamless organization of the wedding party. The palace had been abuzz with guests and members of the royal court, converging in the banquet hall where an abundance of food and drinks were served. It was a spectacle unlike anything you had witnessed before.

Seated by Crocodile's side throughout the evening, you felt a certain intimidation in his presence that stifled conversation. As people approached to offer their congratulations, his indifferent expression remained unchanged, even as lavish and beautiful presents were brought to the both of you. 

When the time came for the first dance, Crocodile whispered a brief excuse before abruptly leaving the wedding celebration for several hours. Surprisingly, no one seemed to bat an eye, except for your slightly concerned father who observed you sitting alone for the remainder of the evening. He eventually took you for a dance, and as the night progressed, you found yourself interacting with childhood friends and gradually finding enjoyment in the festivities.

However, as the clock neared midnight, weariness washed over you. You excused yourself, expressing gratitude to each person you encountered for contributing to the wonderful day. The exhaustion you felt was genuine, as your feet ached from the heels you had worn all day, and your body yearned for a rest from the nervous excitement and the confinement of the wedding dress.

As you began to remove the veil from your hair, you heard a knock on your door. Determined to handle the task of undressing yourself, you replied with a firm statement “I will undress myself tonight!”, anticipating that it was likely a servant coming to assist you. However, to your surprise, the door swung open despite your response, and Crocodile loomed in the doorway, stepping into your room and closing the door behind him.

A mixture of shock and anticipation coursed through you as you turned to face him. His presence filled the room, and his low voice, almost like a murmur, sent shivers down your spine. He offered a dark smile before settling into the chair next to your desk.

“I can still help you get undressed, Princess!”

Your cheeks flushed, and you gasped, finding yourself unable to form words. Nervously, your fingers clutched the fabric of your dress, unsure how to respond to his unexpected intrusion.

Seemingly unaffected by your reaction, Crocodile pulled out a cigar, igniting it within the confines of your room. He took a deep inhale, and in that moment, you noticed a weariness etched across his features—the same exhaustion that had weighed upon you throughout the day.

"What a day, huh?" he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of fatigue, as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

"I am very tired, Sir. I would love to just go to bed...," you replied, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The realization that this man would now be a permanent part of your life was still sinking in, leaving you uncertain about what lay ahead.

Crocodile stood up and approached you, his towering figure casting a shadow over you. Caught between longing and fear, you attempted to lower your gaze, but he swiftly stopped you, using his golden hook to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Vulnerability washed over you as he spoke, his words cutting through the air. “Do you think I am stupid, Princess? Do you think I have not recognized how you have leered at me all these years? How you sneaked into my casino on the weekends breaking the kingdom's law by entering this facility as a royal member and waiting for me to walk around to just stare at me? Your father as well as I know that you love me and that makes things so much easier…!”

You finally found your words again. Despite being taken aback by his blunt demeanor, you realized that there was no point in hiding your feelings any longer.

“It is true. I love you, but I know you do not feel the same. I wonder why my father has agreed to this!”

At that moment, Crocodile surprised you by bowing down, bringing his face close to your ear. The scent of his cigar engulfed your senses, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. A stray strand of his hair brushed against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a rush of desire within you.

"I convinced your father to agree to this arrangement," Crocodile admitted, a note of triumph in his voice. "And if you believe I have pushed boundaries already, my dear, you have no idea what lies ahead." His laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls as he took a step back, observing your reaction with a predatory gaze.

Your heart still pulsed with longing and fear, the desire for Crocodile coursing through your veins. Every fiber of your being ached for his presence, even as you grappled with the knowledge that your father had allowed this devil into the royal kingdom.

With a faint and broken voice, you mustered the courage to ask, "What do you want from us?" 

“You will find out after a while.” Crocodile suddenly sounded tired again, he took off his coat and threw it on the bed next to you. Then with some swift movements he took off his shirt, leaving you again speechless with the look at his muscular chest. 

“I will sleep on the couch, I am too tired to fool around tonight.”, he declared, turning away from you and making his way towards the plush sofa nestled beneath the window.

A mixture of relief and confusion washed over you. "But...!" you managed to utter, your voice trailing off as you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

He turned back to face you, a smile playing on his lips. The sight sent another chill down your spine, freezing your blood in your veins. Just when you thought he would approach you once again, he instead gently pressed the hook against your skin, the sensation both delicate and unnerving. His intense purple gaze locked onto your reaction, studying you closely.

"But what, Princess?" he inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Do you want me that badly?"

You gasped, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, the blush betraying your innermost desires. The coldness of the metal hook against your arm seemed to intensify the dizzying sensations coursing through your body. You were caught off guard by his directness, as he probed into the depths of your thoughts.

"In all these five years, have you fantasized about me?" he continued, his words hanging in the air, laden with tension. "Have you imagined me by your side, just like tonight?"

With his hook still pressed against your arm, he positioned his right hand on the other side, his body inching closer until his chest nearly touched your upper body. The air in the room grew heavy with an overwhelming tension. Every aspect of him seemed simultaneously captivating and intimidating, and the longing within you made you feel like wanting to embrace him, to experience the touch of his warm, sand-colored skin against your own.

In that moment, a sharp pain shot through your arm as the hook scraped into your flesh. A mewl of fear and pain escaped your lips, echoing in the tense atmosphere. To your astonishment, he whispered, "I love how this sounds..!"

Swiftly, he grabbed your bleeding arm, callously smearing the blood on the pristine white sheets of your bed, leaving behind a morbid stain. Without another glance or word, he turned away and settled onto the couch, carelessly tossing some soft pillows to the ground for added comfort. The abruptness of his actions left you bewildered and hurt, tears welling in your eyes.

"Why...?" you managed to utter, your voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and heartache. 

"If the servants come to dress you up tomorrow, they should think we have consummated the marriage," he explained callously. "Good night, Princess. Don't you dare to cry all night!"

Despite his words and unable to contain your tears any longer, you wept silently, the anguish of the night weighing heavily upon your heart.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 11 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 5,061 (These chapters keep getting longer...)

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

Act I, Chapter 11 - The Underdark

A day (and possibly a night, you weren’t sure) had passed since coming down here, and you had been traveling along with the others, staying in the back, guarding their packs whenever enemies came. But you were growing tired; you didn’t have the stamina that they did. You were amazed by the fact that they could all continue pushing onwards, even after multiple fights against strange creatures, and carefully tip-toeing past poisonous fungi that spewed deadly spores.

You started to lag further and further behind. Determined to not be the one to slow them down, you continued to push yourself forward, despite the fatigue tugging at your body.

A small rock led to your downfall. Literally, as you faceplanted after tripping over the damn thing.

You heard your name being called, but it sounded a little faint. You struggled to get up, hating the fact that you were feeling this tired. You’d only been walking, not fighting like the others.

“Perhaps we should make camp,” Astarion said all of a sudden. “I’m sure the rest of you are feeling hungry.”

The others agreed, and even though they were saying that they were wanting to rest anyway, you felt a tinge of guilt. They probably could have kept going if it wasn’t for me.

After some searching, Karlach found a great site, tucked away in the cliffs, surrounded by luminous mushrooms, grasses, and lichen. There was only one path out, two outcrops overlooking waterfalls, and a small pond. The orange-capped mushrooms livened up the place with their color.

“This is lovely,” you said as you explored the perimeter, touching the rocks, the mushrooms, basically everything that you could reach. They were all pleasantly cool to the touch. There was even a small alcove, hidden away, where one could wash up away from prying eyes. 

Your energy renewed by seeing the environs, you immediately started setting up a campfire. I wonder how much cured meat we have in the supply packs.

While everyone picked their spots and set up their tents, you made something simple, a tray with meats and hard cheeses that the group had looted on their way into the Underdark. Glad the goblin camp was full of food.

After you laid out the food for everyone, using one of the giant mushrooms as a makeshift table, you went around to look at some of the smaller fungi around the camp. You sniffed each one, and when one of them smelled particularly woodsy and savory, you took a small nibble.

“What are you doing?” Gale exclaimed, sounding as if he was clutching his nonexistent pearls at your impromptu taste test.

“It smelled good,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“It could be poisonous.”

You rolled your eyes. Gods, Gale could be such a worrywort sometimes. “Relax, I sniffed it. It’s fine.”

He looked askance at you.

Just to fuck with him, you grabbed a mushroom, slowly brought it to your mouth, and licked it, staring at him the whole time. It was immensely fun watching the horror and panic on his face.

Huh, this one tastes a bit different—

You blinked and looked down. The mushroom that you had licked was not the tan-colored mushroom you had bit into earlier, but a dark orange-colored one with a similar shape.

Oh shit.

“Uh, I got about five seconds before I go crazy, so please get me an antidote—”

You fell on your face.

***

When you opened your eyes again, you were tied up, laying down on your side on the cool, damp ground. Your hair and your clothes felt wet. You groaned as your entire body groaned in protest at being conscious.

What the fuck—

“Good, you’re awake.”

You craned your neck to see Astarion sitting by the campfire, reading one of his books.

“I wish I wasn’t,” you muttered.

He closed his book and set it in his lap. He turned towards you, sitting primly like a royal duchess. “How much do you remember?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I licked that mushroom and blacked out.”

“I see.” He tipped his head. “And nothing else?”

“Nothing else…” You saw the mischievous grin growing on his face and immediately started to sweat. “What did I do?”

“Oh, not much.”

“Astarion…” You pulled at your bindings, but they only seemed to tighten.

“Would you like me to illuminate you?”

“Tell me or else,” you growled.

“Or else what, darling?”

“I… I won’t brush your hair anymore.”

For a split second, he looked legitimately hurt and you felt guilty. But then he sniffed daintily and turned away from you. “You brute. Now I won’t tell you anything.”

This catty little—

Astarion suddenly burst out laughing. “The look on your face!”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Come now, darling. What’s life without a bit of fun?”

You pressed your forehead against the ground. “Please just tell me what I did.”

He hemmed and hawed for a bit.

“Please?” you begged.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he finally said, giving you a taunting smirk. “First, take a look at yourself.”

You looked down. Your shirt was on backwards and your trousers were on inside-out. “Oh gods.”

“The first thing you did was throw off your shirt, announcing that it was ‘too hot’.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

Astarion looked beside himself with glee. “And then Gale and Wyll chased you around the camp. But you dodged them both, rolling and tumbling around like a child. You even managed to remove your pants while doing all this.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Then Gale summoned a mage hand to hold you in place while Shadowheart and Lae’zel tugged your clothes back on and tied you up. But you kept crying out about being hot, so Karlach dumped a bucket of water on you.” He grinned. “That seemed to calm you down, although you were staring up at the sky for a long time before you finally fell over and passed out.”

You closed your eyes. You couldn’t take Astarion’s mirthful expression any longer. “Can you just untie me now?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any more chaos to unleash here?”

You groaned. “No, I’m done.” I will never fuck around with mushrooms ever again.

He reached over and untied you. “And what have we learned?”

“Don’t taunt the wizard.”

“No, I think you should always taunt the wizard. Try again.”

“Don’t lick weird things?”

Astarion nodded, and then patted your head. “Good girl.” His hand lingered on your head for a little bit longer before he pulled away. For a second, you sensed a great deal of amusement, but also some fondness in his touch. Or did I imagine that?

Pushing yourself up, you cast a drying cantrip on yourself. “My whole body hurts.” You looked around and noticed that everyone else had gone to sleep. “I want to change,” you said.

“Do what you want,” he said dismissively as he went back to his book.

“So… can you go to your tent?”

“Why so shy, my dear?” He smirked. “I’ve already seen you running around in your underwear.”

You sighed. He had a point. It was nothing he hadn't already seen. Still, you waited a few moments to make sure he was engrossed in his book before you turned away from Astarion and shrugged your shirt off.

“What’s that?”

You turned your head. “What’s what?”

He pointed at your lower back. “That tattoo.”

“Huh?”

You and he shared a look. 

“Wait here.” He immediately got up and went to his tent, coming back with a mirror. He angled it so that you could see the tattoo on your lower back.

“What in the hells is that?” you muttered. A strange seal, with foreign script spiraling within what looked like a stone circle. The seal’s location on your back was the same place where you felt a tingling every time you had a hunch.

Astarion leaned in closer and looked at it with a discerning eye. “Whatever it is, it looks a bit faded.” He leaned in closer. He pronounced some sounds, but cocked his head in confusion. “It looks like Elvish, but the words don’t sound like any language that I can recognize.”

You vaguely recalled that your mother always would always touch you there, but you never thought anything of it before. You had thought it was just a motherly touch. Was she checking the seal as well? Replenishing its magic, perhaps?

Unfortunately, you would never be able to ask her why she put a seal on you. But at the very least, now you know why you always felt the tingling on the small of your back.

“Thank you,” you said finally. 

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, you did the same for me.” After a moment, he asked, “Does it do anything?”

“What? The seal?” 

“What else would I be talking about?”

You debated telling him, but after a few moments, you relented. What harm could it be? “I get a tingle back there sometimes, like when I get a hunch about danger or going in the right direction.”

He hummed. “Sounds useful.”

“Only when I know what to look for. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m getting a tingle and I get anxiety over nothing.” You pulled your sleeping gown out of your pack and threw it on. The soft material felt nice against your skin and you sighed happily. 

“Have you ever tried to control it?” 

You paused. Why the hells didn't I think of that? “Erm, the thought hasn't occurred to me.”

“Perhaps you should try,” he said. 

You nodded. “I could try.” You kicked off your boots and pulled your pants off from underneath your sleeping gown. “Did you want a snack?”

Astarion shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, you still smell of that fungus. I’m not feeling a particular need to lose my facilities tonight.”

You resisted the urge to sniff yourself. “Ah, I see.”

“After all, if you wanted to see my underwear, all you had to do was ask—”

“Good night, Astarion,” you said as you crawled into your bedroll. 

He chuckled as he returned to the book in his hand. “Well then. I'll keep watch. Have a good night,” he said, a smirk on his face.

You fumed quietly as you rolled over and stewed in your humiliation.

***

While the sky never changed in the Underdark, you still felt like morning had come when you pushed yourself out of your cozy bedroll. The slight chill in the air along with the scent of moss and lichen that constantly permeated the air made you think of autumn nights in a forest.

You got things ready for breakfast and listened to the others make their plans for the day. You heard something about exploring a couple of paths, and that the party should split up to explore for now. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Gale were to go north, and Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’zel planned to go west. Halsin was to stay behind and guard the camp, since he was well equipped to handle multiple enemies on his own.

As the others left, you turned to Halsin. “Shall we look for some edible mushrooms?”

He nodded. “As long as you’re careful about which ones you’re picking.”

“Yes, yes, don’t remind me.”

***

Time passed as you and Halsin explored the safer areas of the Underdark near the campsite, foraging for fungi. You wished it had been uneventful, but while you were searching for herbs and mushrooms, you realized that a giant snake was nearby. 

“Erm, Halsin…” You tugged on his arm to get his attention, and pointed at the serpent slithering around the trunk of a massive tree. “We should leave.”

He looked at it for a moment. “Do you know how to cook snake meat?”

You blinked. “Yes, it’s not too different from chicken.” It took you a moment to realize why he was asking you. “Wait—”

He was already transforming.

A mere five minutes later, you were helping Halsin lug back a giant constrictor snake back to camp, your basket of freshly picked mushrooms on your arm.

The two of you got back to camp and began to dress the snake, skinning it and cutting it up for dinner. You were already seasoning it and putting the first two skewers onto the fire when you heard the alarm bell on your belt chiming softly.

“Welcome back,” you said warmly to Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“What are we having tonight?” Shadowheart asked.

You pointed at the skewers. “Mushroom and snake meat skewers, seasoned with some wild herbs and rock salt.”

Gale raised an eyebrow. “Are these mushrooms… safe?”

You huffed. “Yes, they are safe,” you said acerbically.

He raised his hand in defense. “Alright, alright. It’s just that yesterday’s, ahem, debacle, has made me a bit wary.” He gestured towards you. “But if you’re certain they’re safe, then they probably are.”

You noted his use of the word probably and his tone of disbelief. I’ll remember that.

By the time Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach returned, the others had almost finished eating. They swapped stories and figured out their next move for tomorrow. Both teams realized that some of their leads led to the same place.

“One of us could take you to the Myconid Colony while the rest of us track down the duergar,” Wyll said to you.

“I’ll go with her,” Gale said immediately before you, or anyone else, could say anything. He turned to you. “That is, if you’re alright with that.”

You nodded. “No problem.” Unbidden, your gaze flickered over to Astarion for a brief moment, but he seemed too busy speaking quietly with Shadowheart to notice anything else.

Why did I look his way?

***

While everyone else was relaxing after dinner, you made your way down to the water's edge that you could see from the edge of the cliff. It wasn't terribly high, but you found a thin path that cut its way down a couple of switchbacks to the water. 

You heard Gale call your name, and looked back up towards the cliff. He seemed far away, but he snapped his fingers and mumbled something before he floated down from the top of the cliff.

“That’s an awfully handy spell to have,” you commented as he landed daintily on the rocks beside you.

“Saved me a lot of times in my youth, exploring the skyline of Waterdeep.”

“I imagine you troubled your parents a lot, running on top of buildings.”

He laughed. “I suppose I did.” Then he glanced at the water. “So, will you be making a hot water rune here?”

You nodded. Then you realized he was waiting. “Did… did you want to watch?”

“If you don’t mind. It’s a very different kind of magic that I haven’t really seen before, and trust me, I’ve seen plenty of magic in my time.”

Gale went on to talk about his past a bit more, elaborating on what he had already shown you through his memories on the mountain. You just nodded along, letting him prattle on.

“Ah, but I’ve said enough about myself. I’ll let you get on with your work,” he finally said after a long story involving shenanigans and hijinks with his Tressym, Tara.

You smiled politely and stepped into the water until you were halfway submerged. You walked a wide circle, wide enough for even Karlach to float on her back if she so wished, singing your heating hymn while you touched the surface of the water, trails of light blue lines streaming from your fingertips.

Towards the end of the song, you felt fatigue pulling at your legs, making every step a little harder. You pushed through, forcing yourself to finish the song, to finish the circle. I must be tired from all the traveling. I should get some more sleep.

You closed the circle and watched as steam began to rise up from the water’s surface. Stepping inside, you sighed happily, letting the heat seep through your thin clothes and into your body. After a few moments, you looked up at Gale, who was watching you curiously.

“It’s nice in here,” you said as you began to make your way back to the shore.

He held up his hands. “Hold on, I’ll move the water so you don’t get cold.” Moving his hands as if he was splitting something apart, you watched as he parted the water and made a dry path for you back to land. 

You walked back to him, putting your fingers through the water wall on either side of you for fun. He ended the spell just as you returned to shore, the water falling back down and flowing back to normal. You hummed your drying cantrip, only to see Gale observing you.

“What is it?” 

“Your magic is… interesting.”

You blinked and carefully held your expression as neutral as possible. What in the hells does he mean by that?

He finally smiled. “But I’m going to guess that you won’t tell me where you learned it.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, but no.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he nodded. “I understand that you have your reasons, but I promise that I’m only asking out of intellectual curiosity.” He leaned in closer and spoke quieter. “But I do hope that one day, you’ll trust me enough to share.”

Maybe. But not this day. You didn’t think Gale had any connection with that particular masked lord of Waterdeep, even peripherally. But you also weren’t entirely sure. So you merely shrugged and gave him a polite smile. “Perhaps. I could still teach you a few cantrips, though.”

You tried to teach him the drying cantrip you just used, just as an exercise in methodology, but quickly both of you realized that he was a bit too tone deaf to cast it properly.

Gale shrugged. “Not sure if your method of casting is a good fit for me, though I enjoy the concept.”

You laughed. “I guess it helps that I’ve learned it since I was a child. I knew how to sing before I knew how to speak, so my mother said.”

“No wonder you sing so well. You cast all of your spells in song form?”

“I never knew any other way.”

He looked at you curiously, as if he was trying to figure something out. “I feel like there was some kind of magic like that somewhere, but I can’t quite remember.”

Ah shit, I gave him too much info. “It might just be a weird offshoot of bard magic, who knows?” you said quickly, trying to throw him off the scent.

He nodded. “Perhaps.” Then his gaze was drawn towards the hot water rune. “Now, since I was here first…”

You grinned, grateful for the change in topic. “Enjoy! I’ll head back.”

Making your way back up the trail to camp, you told the others that there was a hot water rune in the water below the cliffside, and that Gale was using it first.

Without thinking, you found yourself meandering to Astarion, who was sitting outside his tent, mixing vials.

You came close and smelled rosemary, something citrusy, and… alcohol?

“What are you doing?” you asked as you sat next to him. 

He barely glanced up at you. “Making cologne.”

You tipped your head in confusion.

Astarion finally looked up at you. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and put the vial he was holding back into a wooden vial rack. Curling his finger in a come hither gesture, he then pointed at his neck. “Come close, darling. As if you were going to bite me.”

You hesitated.

“I haven’t got all day.”

You relented and came close. He didn’t smell bad, but he definitely didn’t smell… alive. It was faint, hardly detectable if you hadn’t been sniffing for it. You pulled away and looked at the items in front of him. “Is all this really necessary? I hardly smelled anything.”

“A necromancer or a well trained animal could sniff me out. But it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy can’t hide.”

You nodded. “I use rosemary when I can’t focus,” you commented idly. “And anything citrus gives me energy. I hadn’t thought to put them together.”

“It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse. Honestly, I missed my calling as a perfumer.”

You caught the slightly wistful look on his face before he turned back to his vials. “Do you have any other questions, my dear?”

Shaking your head, you moved to get up, but he suddenly spoke, quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. “You can stay, even if you don’t have any questions.”

“Oh? I’m not bothering you?”

Beyond his sultry smirk you saw a hint of a real smile, which shook you more than it should have. “Not at all. Besides, you smell delicious.”

You rolled your eyes, but sat back down anyway. “Wouldn’t that distract you?”

“On the contrary. You’re more like… a palate cleanser.”

“Glad to know I’m the olfactory equivalent of a jar of pickles,” you muttered.

He let out a small burst of a giggle, surprising you.

Sharing a smile, you stayed and helped him mix his scents.

“So what scent would you use on me?” you asked as you helped him finish his last vial. 

“Let me think.” He started putting things away as he ruminated. “Definitely something a little spicy to go with your inherent sweetness.”

He plucked one of the other vials from his kit. Giving it a few hard shakes, he unstoppered it, placed a finger over the opening, and flipped it quickly. He deftly stoppered the vial before he leaned closer to you. Reaching for your neck, he gently stroked the scent onto your pulse with his finger. Cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger wafted around you. 

“There. You smell like a spiced dessert wine. Utterly delectable.”

You grinned. “So you think I'm a drink?”

“The most delicious drink in all of the Sword Coast.”

“You flatterer.”

“I could go on—”

“Please don't,” you interrupted. Then you gave him a sincere smile. “But thank you for letting me spend time with you.”

He blinked, clearly unused to being thanked for such a thing. But he recovered, plastering on a smile. “My pleasure, darling.” Looking at you for a moment longer before looking at the vial in his hand, he slowly handed it to you. “Perhaps you should keep this. It suits you.”

You took the vial and cradled it close to your chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled. You weren’t expecting a gift, especially not from him.

He seemed as surprised as you. “Well, this won’t be a regular thing.” He sniffed and turned away, putting his things back inside his tent.

You took that as a cue to leave him alone, but you didn’t feel like you had been dismissed. You got the feeling that he was a bit embarrassed at having been nice for once, so you let him be.

***

You had gone around and spent a bit of time with everyone tonight, sharing small snippets of conversation, getting to know your companions a little bit better. As everyone went to sleep in their tents, you started to head towards your bedroll. You still didn’t have your own tent, and you honestly didn’t feel like you needed one. After all, if it rained, you could always stay with Astarion.

Just the thought of him made you look towards his tent. He was probably already in a trance, regaining his strength for the next day. You wondered if he had gotten enough sustenance from whatever was out in the wilds of the Underdark.

If I go ask, I’ll just be satiating my own curiosity. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.

You reminded yourself that you thought very little of his ability to care for himself not too long ago.

But I know more about him now.

Your heart clenched with anxiety. I don’t need to check on him. By the gods, I’m not his caretaker.

Despite your attempts at talking yourself out of it, you turned and walked towards his tent. You stared at the tent flap, debating for a few more moments. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to your bedroll, you heard his voice.

“Come to see me, darling?”

You sighed. No going back now. “Yes.”

“Come in.”

You entered to see him sitting on his bedroll, reading a book.

“Are you hungry?” you immediately asked. Godsdammit, me. I couldn’t ease into the conversation, could I?

He chuckled. “I’m quite alright, but I’d never turn down dessert.” Closing his book and setting it aside, he looked up at you and patted his lap. “Come sit with me, my dear.”

You blatantly ignored his lap and sat beside him instead.

He pouted so perfectly at you. “I feel like you’re teasing me.” Leaning in, he glanced down at your collarbone for a moment. “Why did you come to me tonight?”

“Just to check on you. To make sure you weren’t hungry.”

He smiled that perfectly constructed smile of his. “How sweet.” He touched your arm, and you felt nothing. Dammit, he’s doing it again. “But is that the only reason you’re here?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

His fingers traced lines up and down your arm, and you couldn’t help but lean into his shielded touch. It’d been so long since you’d had prolonged contact, and just like before, you were tempted into letting him do what he wanted because you wouldn’t have to feel any other emotions but your own. I could just be in the moment without being distracted. I could… actually enjoy myself.

Trapped in your own desires, you let him move closer.

“I’ve seen your cute little glances, ever since we started traveling together. Your eyes are drawn to me.”

You swallowed as he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“You're shy, aren't you?”

Don't give in, for fuck's sake. Although he’s not wrong. You nodded in agreement before you realized what you were doing. 

“But you want to be touched, don't you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low purr.

You swallowed again. He scooted even closer, his hand moving up your arm to your shoulder, then slowly down your back. He pulled you close, his hand drawing circles slowly around the seal on the small of your back. 

“That's why you're really here, isn't it?” His intense stare pinned you in place, his voice like silk against your senses.

Frozen in place, you couldn’t speak as your voice died in your throat. This wasn't what you wanted. You were pretty sure this wasn’t what he wanted either, despite his attempts otherwise.

“You could lose yourself in me,” he murmured, his lips millimeters from yours.

Just one kiss… He was so close. So very, very close.

But it wouldn’t be real.

You pulled back and shook your head, denying both him and yourself, stamping down on your own desire. “No,” you finally whispered. 

He suddenly stopped and moved away from you. He looked at you, really looked at you, his head tipped slightly in confusion, his expression mildly annoyed. “Then what do you want?” 

A hug seemed a safe enough thing to ask for. You wanted physical touch. He… Well, you weren’t sure what he wanted, to be honest. But you were sure it wasn’t you, not in that way. 

You decided that if he was going to insist on something physical, you could take a hug and not feel as bad about taking advantage of him.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked in the smallest voice. 

Astarion blinked. “Just a hug?”

You nodded.

He seemed surprised. But he finally shrugged. “If that's all you want.” 

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of bergamot and brandy on his skin. He froze, his arms hovering around you as if the mere concept of a hug was foreign to him. But he gradually relaxed, and you felt his arms close around you as he held you close. His head dipped down, his nose nuzzling your ear.

You realized after a few moments that you could feel his emotions again, and that it was a mixture of relief and… safety?

You eventually let him go, not wanting to outstay your welcome, but Astarion clung to you for a few more moments before he slowly let his arms slide down. You shifted back so you could see him. His expression was softer than you had ever seen. You wondered when was the last time he gave a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, before pressing your forehead against his. You weren't sure when this became your manner of saying good night to him, but he closed his eyes and stayed silent.

…hungry… 

“Do you want a bite before I go?” 

He opened his eyes and stared at you. “How do you always know?”

I cheated. “Just a hunch.”

He chuckled. Dipping his head down, his lips touched your neck and lingered, not quite a kiss, but it felt just as intimate. You felt his breath against your skin as he let out a small sigh. “You really are delicious, you know,” he murmured before biting down. 

You felt his contentment past the pain of his fangs. He seemed happy. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. A small sound of pleasure escaped his throat as he gulped down two more mouthfuls of your blood before pulling away. He gently licked your wound before coming back to press his forehead against yours. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re always welcome,” you whispered back. You stayed with him for just a few moments more before you finally pulled away. He said nothing, only watched you with an enigmatic expression. You gave him one last smile as you slipped out of his tent quietly.

You walked back to your bedroll, thoughts churning through your head.

Why did he feel safe, when I rejected his advances and only took a hug?

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

Chapter 11 End notes: This chapter is a bit sillier, but that’s because I really didn’t know what to do in the Underdark, and the mushrooms provided an excellent way to introduce some levity to what will soon become a heavier storyline. And you may have noticed that Gale is observing things about our dear Hearth Witch. Will he reveal his observations? Probably not any time soon. Maybe you’ll figure it out before he does!

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