#...when he heard the laugh come from black's body (via the mouth of course)

[wolfgang1097]

In case anybody isn't aware, there's a brief backstory about a certain Spy vs. Spy short

Good evening, folks. The Spy vs. Spy short that had to do with ventriloquism from MADtv is basically another fan favorite besides Defection. Not to mention that it's also the only short where anybody has spoken a single word at all.

I will admit, I do find the raspy voices, and the incomprehensible babble, the spies were given (especially White Spy) pretty interesting and, just like the suppressed snickering they had throughout most of the shorts, it suits them very well to some degree.

I've heard rumors that the spies were probably voiced by Bryan Callen right up until he left the show right after season two. Is this true? I dunno, but it may be possible.

Anyhow, in case anybody isn't aware, this whole incident was actually provoked when Black taunted White by shouting profanities at the latter whilst he was minding his own business, as seen at the very beginning the original paperback strip.

See?

Geesh, as much I like Black Spy and all, he can be such a huge wise-ass (I kinda did want to slug Black in the gut for straight up taunting White like that, I will admit). Well, it all came back to bite him on the ass when White retaliated by inventing a mini speaker and a mini microphone so that..well I'd see the events unfold in the video if I were you (and/or check out the original paperback strip, too; if y'all happen to have that paperback book with this strip), and the rest is history.

Hope y'all enjoyed finding out about this. Peace.

I do not claim ownership of any content. Spy vs. Spy belongs to the defunct MAD magazine and Antonio Prohias.

[ficclings]

Y/N - Reindeer Hybrid

Yoongi - Amur Leopard Hybrid.

A/N: I got super carried away with this and it was supposed to be up for Christmas but my brain shut down for a bit and it missed my own deadline. I haven’t proofread this but I wanted to get it out there. Again it’s a bulletfic as I’m terrified to write proper full fanfictions for KPop but I hope that you all enjoy it anyways. Please like or comment if you would...be...so kind to...

Y/N always had a small aversion to Christmas.

This wasn’t because she despised the day or anything, it was how she was teased relentlessly because she was a Reindeer Hybrid.

She thankfully didn’t have giant antlers like the actual Reindeer; she could hide them with a hat whenever the season arrived.

She could handle herself with the comments but it was always appreciated when her best friend Hoseok stood up for her; his strong Stallion aura greatly intimidating when he needed it to be.

She often stayed at home during winter and worked on her computer, trying to look as if she was at all interested in what her colleagues were saying to her via their small little video chat.

Staying at home wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world but she did enjoy a couple of things.

She could go do things in her home like taking a break often and having a small nap whenever she started to get a headache from working too hard. 

Also, she got to listen to her neighbour.

Her neighbour was an amazing rapper and even though a lot of people would assume she liked musicals, she actually enjoyed rap and heavy metal the most; dabbling in a love for all Japanese music.

 He had the deepest voice she’d ever heard when it came to rap and sometimes he spoke so fast that it took her a moment to comprehend just what the hell had happened.

Y/N always wanted to sound an applause afterward but knew it would most likely be a little weird for him to suddenly hear the squeals of a mostly shut in Reindeer Hybrid.

He always practiced right as the afternoon started for a couple of hours and then she would hear nothing from him again until the next day at the same time.

Unknowingly, he became apart of her routine.

It was like having small daily concerts just for her and as each day passed she found herself gaining a little crush despite most of her knowledge of him came from listening to him through her bedroom wall and one small shared glance they had had with one another when she had just come back from gathering supplies for her Instax Camera.

He was about the same height as her with gorgeous fluffy black hair; bucket hat covering any indication on whether or not he was a Hybrid.

Dressed in all black with only one red tie to add colour, he looked like an absoloute dream to Y/N and she nearly walked right into her front door when she finally got a look at his eyes.

Wonderful dark eyes that held such sleepiness in them; something she found rather endearing.

The moment quickly ended though when she felt her face completely burn up and she hurried into the apartment, leaning against her closed door with a loud gasp of air as she tried to calm down her small panic.

He was there again.

Right by her wall, where she worked, rapping like he was born to do it and her hands immediately stopped typing.

She clambered over her bed and pressed her ear to the wall, smiling and her small tail tingled with excitement.

He added music?!

She clenched her fists tightly with such utter happiness; her mouth opening and before she knew it, she let out a great big “You’re so cool!”.

Y/N froze with wide eyes as the music stopped suddenly and the silence began to pound in her ears; fingers twitching and she curled up away from the wall.

“Hello?”

Oh no, he’s talking to her.

His voice is so close to the wall that she couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t talking to her.

Y/N couldn’t bring herself to speak and she began to nervously pull at her right antler.

Then a knock at her front door just about made her heart drop to her feet.

“Fuck,” 

Why did this situation have to arise? She’s so bloody awkward with social interactions!

“I know you’re in there Reindeer,” 

Oh that made her shiver for some reason and her tail twitched as she managed to get herself to move off her butt and open the door; eyes glued to the floor with red decorating her skin and if he could see that, he never mentioned it.

“Have you been listening to me?” 

She just nodded like one of those stupid bird desk toys.

“Sorry,” 

Brilliant response.

Stunningly eloquent 

“What did you think?”

That one question allowed for a friendship to blossom between the two of you.

His name was Min Yoongi and he was a very lazy Amur Leopard Hybrid.

But a very handsome one.

One that made Y/N want to throw up in nervousness whenever they hung out, which was practically everyday despite her having to work whilst he lazed on her sofa and played on her Playstation.

It was one of those blinding crushes where if Y/N were in a cartoon a pink mist would be surrounding her and hearts and butterflies would dance around her face.

It really didn’t help that winter was also when her Reindeer side would go a bit loopy with hormones and would make her act like, just such a moron around Yoongi.

He had no idea.

He was very clueless when it came to women’s inner turmoil let alone a female hyrbid’s inner turmoil.

Y/N was a woman that he was interested in knowing the inner turmoil of though; she was just...special to him for some reason.

He could blame it on the fact that she was a Doe and very skittish and it brought out his protective side.

Something that made Y/N feel fuzzy.

It was also a bit of a problem when both Yoongi and Hoseok were standing up for you at the same time because they were both very Alpha but Hoseok would always calm down quickly and just nudged Yoongi playfully on the shoulder.

Hoseok loved Yoongi too, it was nice to have a brother to help him out with guy things; something that always made Y/N laugh.

Anyways.

Yoongi had discovered a lot about Y/N when it came to himself.

She liked his ears.

Like a lot.

It was annoying at the beginning because he wasn’t used to it and they kept flicking around as it tickled to no end.

Now he just sat there most days as she ran her forefinger and thumb around on his soft fur.

It made him feel slightly warm under the collar now.

It wasn’t his fault.

You’re just so fucking cute with everything you do.

Even your grumpiness towards Christmas was adorable to him.

The pride he feels when you give him an applause after he practices was the best feeling in the world...only second to the ears.

Your eyes get so big as you stare at him and he almost always falters in his rapping whenever he catches your gaze, red flashing against his pale skin.

“When you get famous you have to invite me on tour!” 

Oh his heart aches.

Oh look at your little hands grasping his arm in graceful giddiness.

Oh your antlers are so fucking cute and oh god look at your little tail.

He wants to tug on your tail.

Not entirely sure why.

But he does know that the thought sends him to the shower every night.

Uh-oh you’re talking to him and he hasn’t been listening.

Totally not imagining things a friend should never imagine.

“Yoo?” 

OH SHE CALLED HIM YOO.

He was pretty sure he was malfunctioning because there was a very concerned expression on your lovely face.

“W-what?” his canines bit harshly down on his bottom lip as he stuttered.

“You alright?” 

Y/N’s hands were tugging on the fabric of his shirt as she tried to look at his face more.

“You’re so red,” she giggled quietly feeling quite drunk on nothing but her own Hybrid side.

Yoongi’s breath got stuck in his throat when the wave of your hormones suddenly slapped him across the face.

He really wished you were sitting directly next to him in your comfy clothes.

You looked so soft in them that he just wanted to gather you up in his arms and rub all over your scent gland.

“I’m good, Reindeer,” he practically purred out getting a scent of mints and chestnuts, setting his skin on fire.

Neither of you have any clue as to who actually made the first move but Y/N found herself laying on top of Yoongi on the sofa, kissing him with the most amount of passion she’d ever felt.

Soon finding her hands gripping the back of the sofa as Yoongi helped her ride him, his face first pressed against her collarbone; hot breath panting against her causing goosebumps before he buried his face in her neck as he continued to scent her heavily.

Your little cries of “oh Yoo,” made his brain feel as if it were melting into a puddle of heaven.

His large hands shyly cupping your backside before finally, finally getting the pleasure of tugging your tail causing a delightful and horrifically erotic squeal to leave your swollen lips.

Both of them consenting before they took the plunge and bit into each other gland as their release rushed over them; fingers causing cuts into each other’s skin as they shook.

After you two had become a mated couple (with the approval of one Hoseok of course), Yoongi had made it his mission to get you at least a little interested in the Christmas Spirit of things.

And boy did he.

His plan would only come into effect on the actual day.

And with his arms wrapped tightly around you on Christmas morning (both of you walking around practically glued to each other after heavy love making the night before) he led you towards the bathroom where he’d hidden his present.

“Merry Christmas, Reindeer,” he bit flirtatiously on your earlobe before opening the door.

A sharp bark sounded around before it was followed by loud squeals from you, hands picking up the small brown dog and snuggling into it’s warm, warm body.

“Oh he’s lovely, oh Yoongi,” cuddling into the Leopards side, he purred in content.

“Holly,”

He looked down at you, eyebrow raised.

“It’s Christmas,” you stated with a determined expression

“His name is Holly,” 

[certifiedskywalker]

Not Who I Should Be - Din Djarin

plaguenecromancer said: If that's okay, may i request Din Djarin x insecure reader? With him comforting her? A gal needs some fluff in her life 🙏 (if you're comfy with it ofc!)

AN: I’m sorry you’re feeling a little insecure. It’s not a good feeling, no matter what you’re having doubts or negative feelings about. I hope this comfort fic helps you feel better!

Boredom permeated every fiber of your being. The heat made it worse, stoked the flames of your tedium. Even inside, tucked into the shadows of the little home Karga had given you when he became magistrate, you itched to retreat from the fatigue. You longed for a fight, for something to work towards. Instead, you stayed still, tucked in by your window to watch beings of all shapes and species stride through the streets of Nevarro’s main city.

Boredom, this dissatisfaction, had not struck you in cycles. Not since the days before Mando and his small, green charge had entered your life. They had made life interesting, made crash landing on Nervarro’s sands worth it. Though, now, without them and their adventure, all you had was empty time. Less than savory thoughts and doubts had risen up to fill it.

‘What ifs’ plagued you most often, never leaving like the heat. What if you had pressed Mando, Din, to let you go with him after forcing Moff Gideon to retreat? What if you had stowed away on the Razor Crest? What if Din had not said that you would be safer if you stayed and that a life on the run was not a life for you? What if you were stronger, leaner, and meaner like the rest of the company the Mandalorian man kept?

Worst of all: what if you had told him how you felt?

In an attempt to free yourself from your regret, you shook your head and moved away from the window. People watching only worked as a distraction for so long. You needed to busy yourself with something, anything else. If you didn’t...you released a trembling breath.

Rather than stand alone with your doubts, you started towards the small kitchen nestled in the corner of your quaint abode. As you made your way over, you ignore the mirror hung on the far wall. All your worries and hurt seemed to gather in the reflective glass. If you wanted to shake the dull darkness, you would have to stay away from it; and yourself.

For the moment, the tea making process would serve as a distraction enough. As you reached up into one of your cabinets for a cup, there was a knocking at your door. The sound made you jump slightly. You had not been expecting anyone. Warily, you made your way towards the door and peeked out between the curtains of the window beside it. You saw a familiar head of dark hair lingering in the doorway and a wave of relief washed over you.

Eagerly, you reached over to unlatch the door. A moment after, it opened with a soft clanking and Cara Dune gave you a knowing grin. You quirked a brow at her in a silent question. Her grin only widened; a sight you were not used to.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” 

Cara nodded and waved her hand. “Follow me.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Cara was already walking away. You sighed and slipped on your shoes before following after her. Nevarro’s back streets were not as crowded as the main thoroughfare. Despite his seedy past, Karga had eliminated most of the crime, via decriminalization or more reasonable law, which, in turn, eliminated the need to use the dark back alleys. The lack of traffic allowed you and Cara to make it to the catina-turned school quickly.

“The school?” You asked, but, as usual, Cara pushed forward without an explanation. And, as usual, you followed after her. Anticipation twisted your stomach as you wondered and walked towards whatever surprise Cara had in store. You were half expecting a wounded child or an infestation of womp rats tucked into the school’s walls. 

Once inside, your wondering turned to confusion. Class was in session with the reprogrammed protocol droid referencing the New Republic Core Worlds and the varying hyperspace lanes that connect each Rim of the galaxy. You glanced at Cara who, still smiling, leaned towards you. She extends a hand towards the front of the class. 

You follow the direction of her pointed index finger. Heads of hair and attentive children blocked your view of the front of the class. Moving to the side to get a better glimpse did little to help. With a few steps forwards, you saw that the desk on the far left was empty.

No, not empty. 

A little head of green skin peeked out from over the desk behind him. The Child. Your eyes widened at the sight. Suddenly, with a mind of their own, your feet started towards him. Before you even reached his side, the Child turned his head and his large, dark eyes met your gaze. A small gasp of excitement fell from your lips.

He remembered you, even after being away so long.

Without paying any mind to the lesson taking place, you scooped the Child up into your arms. He cooed as you lifted him, tiny hands reaching out towards your face. Small and warm, the Child’s hands rested on your cheeks. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled.

“I missed you too,” you said softly, “and the shiny man that carries you around.” The Child squealed at your words and you took the sound as a sort of giggle. “Where is he? Hmm?”

Knowing that, while he was responsive to you, you wouldn’t get a true answer from the Child, you sent a glance over your shoulder at Cara. When you did, you saw that she was casted half in shadow. The sight was enough to make you do a double take. Looking back for longer than a moment, you saw the shadow’s source.

Standing partially in front of Cara was your Mandalorian. You stared into the dark lines of his visor, wondering if he was staring at you too. The regrets you had run from suddenly caught up with you. Air was knocked from your lungs as Din took a step towards you, suffocated you with a wave of self-consciousness. Whatever lecture the protocol droid was giving was quickly drowned out by your heartbeat thundering in your ears. 

He takes another step and you feel your skin warm. How ridiculous you must look and what a mess too. Your slip-on shoes were tattered as was the cardigan shawl draped over your shoulders. This morning, you had dressed to stay indoors. Now, you were standing in a classroom, precious Child in arms, and staring at the only man you had ever truly fallen for.

Another step and you feel your chest tighten. You have a million things you want to say, but only one thing you want to do. Despite that, your feet stay firmly planted to the floor, unmoving. There would not be any running into his arms or even meeting him in the middle. Fear and doubt gripped you too tightly for that. 

One more step and, “hey.”

“Hi,” you whisper, suddenly aware of all the pairs of eyes in the room. A few of the children, unentertained by the lecture, stare awestruck at the shining, metal man that had just strode into their classroom. “I mis-”

“We should leave these kids to their schooling,” Karga said, stepping out from beside Cara. You peeked over Din’s shoulder and nodded at him. As Karga and Cara made their way towards the door, you followed suit. When you passed him, you heard elements of Din’s  armor clank together as he stayed close on your heels. Even a pace or so in front of him, you could still feel the warmth of his body behind yours as you all made your way to the Magistrates office. 

Once there, the trio wasted no time in telling you their newest plans.

“You’re going to blow it up?”

“Erase the stain of the Empire from our glorious home planet,” Karga extrapolated with an all too knowing smile.

“So, you’re blowing it up,” you sighed. The Child let out a coo, big dark eyes peering up at you from where he was nestled safely in your arms

“See! Even the baby agrees with me!” Karga clapped his hands together and let out a chuckle. You frowned and shook your head before refocusing your attention on the Child. 

Before you could respond, poke holes in this horribly vague and wild plan, Din’s hand reached out. Gloves fingers reached towards the Child, stroked the top of his head and down the curve of one of his large ears. You looked up and saw the Mandalorian fixed on the little creature. Though, he must have sensed your eyes because the visor lifted quickly; his hand still lingered near your arm. If you were not so enraptured by Din’s close proximity and focused line of sight on you, you may have felt how his covered fingertips so carefully brushed against your upper arm, the place where the Child’s head rested comfortably.

“Can you watch him?”

 The stillness of Din’s voice was usually what stirred your stomach; his tone was always forward, stoic. But, with that question, there was a bend that made your heart flutter in your chest. He was worried, or overwhelmed by something, you weren’t entirely sure. All you were sure of was how, when he spoke to you like that, you would do just about anything he asked of you.

Though, as much as you adored the Child, you wanted to help. You yearned to be where the action was. In this case, an abandoned Imperial outpost. Not quite the complete savior from boredom you had wished for, but it would get you away from yourself long enough. Din leaned closer and you swore you saw a flash of his eyes in the rays of light that struck his helmet's visor.

“Y/N?” Mouth suddenly dry, you struggled to find your voice while lost in his; lost in the way he said your name. No, you would slow them down, weaken the team. The last thing you wanted was to add more worry to Din's already heavy shoulders. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted to come with; he knew that you weren’t combat material, not a hardened warrior, not a worthy addition to the team. When you finally found your voice, your held the darkened gaze of Din’s visor, staring into the blackness at the points you imagined his eyes would be.

“Of-of course.” You cringed at the stammer laced in your words. Nerves and doubts had ways of undermining your every attempt to remain collected in front of others; the Mandalorian especially so.

“Good.”

Good? You felt your whole body warm at the single word. Self conscious, you opened your mouth to say something, anything to deflect attention from your burning cheeks and wide eyes. Luckily, Karga always had something to say.

“Then it’s settled! Let’s check in with our get away driver.” Karga turned on his heels and, somewhat leading Cara out of the office, left the room. Cara sighed and nodded at you before following the man’s trail. 

“You’ll be alright here?” You focused your gaze back on Din. His visor, his gaze was still trained on you. You don’t think it ever left.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. He was nervous too, wary about leaving the Child, his child, in your care. Your lips turned to a frown,�� weighed down by the weight of Din’s and your own self doubt. 

“If he gives you trouble, I’m a comm away.” You nodded at his reassurance, but your expression did not change. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said softly, watching as Din started towards the door. He gave you one last look, hand gripping the door frame with one foot out under Nevarro’s sun. “Stay safe.”

Din lingered in the wake of your words before he finally nodded and followed Cara towards the edge of town. You watched him go through the window, and found yourself where you began: waiting for an adventure, an escape from your own mind. A small chittering from the Child pulled your gaze back in. His little green hands were reaching up towards your face again, wonder in his dark eyes.

“You’ll keep me busy, won’t you?” You asked, and the Child cooed in response. “We’re both kind of lost, aren’t we?”

“Am I boring you?”

The Child yawned in response, with his eyes slowly closing and, even slower, blinking open again. You took a long breath before you reached over from where you sat to pick him up. Pieces of ration bread clung to the skin around his mouth, a few crumbs falling to the floor of your little homestead before you could wipe them away. You would have to clean later.

“Guess my little stories aren’t as exciting as the adventures you’ve been on, huh? I can’t imagine all the places you and your Mando have gone.”

With eyelids heavy, the Child only chirped once in reply. You strode over to the piecemeal couch you had found and placed against the far wall. Mismatched tones of red cushions swallowed you as you sat down. Your body sank into the fabric, held you as softly as you held the Child in your arms. Every aching bone and muscles sighed in relief as you wedged yourself in the couch, snug between the cushions and the armrest.

In the distance, somewhere in the city’s nightlife, a creature howled. Though, not even an explosion or the opening of a clanky door could distract you from the Child. Except for yourself. Except for the doubts and thoughts and insecurities that swirled about your head. Your brain felt like a dusted engine, ready to burst under the pressure. Finally, it did.

“If I were fitter, quicker to the draw….” you laughed at yourself bitterly. “No, if I were better, overall, I would have gone with you and him. If I weren’t scared, in my head, I might have too...I’m just-”

The Child chittered softly, in tune with the rise and fall of his little chest. For a moment you waited for him to make another sound, say his piece. Then, the same chittering, the same long breath. He was asleep and you were alone with your thoughts again. 

“I’m just not who I should be,” you finished.

A sigh fell from your lips as you shifted to set the Child down. Like you, he sank into the cushions but he wiggled his way deeper. You wished you could sleep as soundly. As you moved to your feet, you caught the telltale clanking of your metal door closing.

With a lurch in your heart and stomach, you spun around on your heels, frightened but ready to attack the intruder. Afterall, the Imps were still after the Child. But it was not a platoon of sneaking Stormtroopers or officers clad in black that greeted you. It was your Mando, Din.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just you. You scared the starlight out of me!” You kept your voice to a louder whisper, as to not wake the Child. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Neither was I,” Din admitted, taking a few steps towards you so he too could lower his voice. “The outpost wasn’t as abandoned as Karga said.”

You raised your brows at him. “But it’s…”

“They’re gone, for now. As long as he,” he tipped his helmeted head towards the Child, “and I stay here. It’s not safe, for anyone.”

“Are you two ever safe?” You ask, a joking, bittersweet twinge to your words. When they had left, leaving you on Nevarro with Cara and Karga, you don’t think you ever stopped worrying about Din and the Child. Or wondering about what your life would have been like if you had gone with them. A glance at the Child sent you back to those daydreams; instinctively, you smiled.

“No,” Din answered seriously, “and that’s why I never asked if you wanted to join us.” You turned your eyes from the Child back to Din. Dark and unyielding, the visor of his helmet was trained on you. “Not because...you’re capable, Y/N. You’re…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand why.” You raised a hand and waved him off. “You better get going anyway.”

In an attempt to escape the white-hot embarrassment that had begun to crawl up your neck, you started towards your kitchen. How could you have been so unaware and let him hear you? Why were you even talking to the Child like that? Why did you have to be so-

As you passed Din, his hand caught your upper arm. It was a harsh grab. It was more like you were a floating piece in a hologram puzzle and the user finally put you in place; right where you belonged. Warmth spread to every far reach to your limbs, every track of skin. Overwhelmed by the heat, you looked up and out towards Din once more. 

“You’re exactly who you should be: brave, when it counts, and kind. I wish I knew more people like you, but you’re enough for me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes, begging to be shed. You were frozen now but warm still; a sort of puddle captured in the freezing grip of words you didn’t know you wanted, needed to hear. When you muscles finally thawed, you didn’t say a word. Instead, you leaned into Din’s touch and he, much to your surprised, opened his arms for you.

Beskar was cold against your skin, seeped through the fabric of your clothes. A stark contrast to the flames of want and affection that engulfed you. Din’s hand dropped from your arm and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His other arm moved so that his left hand cradled your head, held it to his chest.

In that moment, your thoughts scattered, succumbed to the heat captured between your body and Din’s. For the first time, there was no smoke in your head that tarnished everything you did, said, or felt. It was only you and Din, together; exactly where you should be.

[toosicktoocare]

If ur taking request (if not it’s totally fine just ignore this) dick trying to keep going about his day with a fever because he doesn’t think his well-being is that important and he ends up collapsing in front of/on his siblings?

The situation, Dick thinks, is overwhelmingly less than ideal. He’s due at the manor in an hour, and yet the thermometer reading, 101.4 degrees Fahrenheit, is flashing red across his vision, a physical testament to the headache drumming across his temples.

His schedule, as it has been for the last few months, is packed. Now that he’s mending and strengthening his relationships with his brothers, he’s keeping himself actively involved in their lives, and thus, he’s near-constantly busy.

Today, he promised Damian he’d spar with him in the morning, then he’s due to work with Tim on some advanced science project for his advanced biology course, and then Jason, begrudgingly, agreed to a late lunch that Dick will be cooking for everyone at the manor, seizing the opportunity to utilize so the full kitchen without Alfred and Bruce breathing down his neck.

Relastically, he should cancel. He knows this; however, his commitment to his brothers means more than the fever pressing warm against his cheeks right now, so he turns the thermometer off and snags his jacket and bag, leaving his apartment, and hopefully, the knowledge of his ailments at his back.

***

Even just pulling his car into the cave, he can tell the manor’s buzzing with activity, and he parks beside Jason’s bike, sporting a curious gaze at it. Jason mentioned he wouldn’t be over until later, right before lunch essentially, citing he had “business” to tend to beforehand. At the time, Dick didn’t want to ask and still doesn’t want to ask now. Besides, he’s not sure his head can even properly wrap around Jason’s “business,” not with the now pounding that’s stretching out across his forehead.

He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, frowning at the faint drops of sweat, and takes a few moments to breathe deeply, willing his heart to ease up some of the rabbit’s foot racing. His breathing, however, goes interrupted when Damian bangs on his window, already geared up and ready to spar.

“Are you going to sit in there all day, Grayson?”

Dick plasters on a practiced smile, one he can manifest to be naturally radiant, and he slips out of the car, dropping his hand atop Damian’s head and ruffling his hair. “Sorry, Little D. You’re sparring in full gear?” He eyes the Robin costume fitted on Damian, and Damian nods tightly.

“Of course. Father says I should always spar in my suit to ensure I know exactly how my body’s able to move within it.”

Dick’s heard this one before, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Right, well, believe it or not,” he pauses, reaching for his bag in his backseat, I’ve only got sweats and a tank.” He waves the bag in front of Damian’s face, smiling almost impishly. “Unfortunately for you, that’s all I need.”

Damian scoffs, whipping sharply on his heel and starting toward the manor’s large sparring arena, and Dick laughs, his smile only faltering when he’s sure Damian’s no longer in sight. He slips to the changing rooms, locking the door behind him and sagging against it, his bag falling to the floor. It’s occurred to him, just now of all times, that in his rush to disregard his own well-being in favor of his brothers’, he completely forgot to actually take anything to alleviate the fever. The changing room’s not stocked since med-bay’s close by, and Dick’s sure he won’t manage to sneak into medical without Damian seeing.

Instead, he hunches over a sink, splashing cold water over his face, the feeling odd as it eases the heat coating his face but brings a mute chill down his spine. Shuddering lightly, he changes from his jeans to his sweats, and he tugs his GCPD shirt off, slipping his tank on and rubbing lightly at his bare arms as he starts out of the room.

Damian’s already center of the mat when Dick walks in, and Dick pulls his arms into long stretches and shakes out his limbs as he walks forward, planting himself in front of Damian.

“Ready?”

“Are you?” Damian spits out, eyes narrow behind his domino.

“Show me what you’ve got, Robin.”

Dick’s quick on feet, effortlessly dodging Damian’s fists swinging at him, the batarangs flying toward him. When he catches on between two fingers, a cocky smile playing on his lips, Damian comes at him harder, stronger, really putting what he’s learned from Bruce on display. Dick can still keep up, he can still pin Damian within each cycle, but his headache, that he’s forced to the back of his mind, is blooming centerfold, tugging at his attention enough for Damian to sneak in a leg swipe, promptly knocking Dick on his back.

In seconds, Damian’s atop him, a knife pressed to his throat, and Dick raises both hands. “I cave.” Dick smiles, his chest heaving, lungs desperate to suck in air, and Damian flips off of him, frowning.

“What’s wrong with you? You aren’t normally winded this early in.”

Dick climbs to his feet, a groan threatening to creep up his throat, and then he moves, catching Damian off guard and knocking him square in the chest. Damian falls back, and now Dick’s pinning him. “No distractions, Little D.”

“Ugh,” Damian growls, shoving Dick off him. “You’re hot and sweaty, and you aren’t playing fair.”

“Playing,” Dick parrots back, and though his muscles are aching deeply, he pushes himself back to his feet, a tight smile teasing at his lips. “Since when is this playing?”

***

By the time Dick and Damian finish, roughly two hours later, Dick’s muscles are shaking with each step. He only just managed to change back into his jeans and shirt without toppling over, his sparring clothes now drenched in sweat, and now, on his way to Tim’s room, he’s shivering slightly, the lingering sweat against his skin now properly chilling him.

He rubs at his forehead, sighing deeply, but when he reaches Tim’s door, he smooths out his features and wills his body to stop trembling. He knocks even though the door’s ajar.

“Come in.”

Dick makes to push the door opening, pausing when Tim adds, “unless it’s you Damian. If that’s the case, go the hell away.”

Dick breathes through a low laugh and slips inside. “Friend?” he asks, and Tim spares a glance from the supplies on his desk.

“Hey, Dick.”

“Hey, Little Wing,” Dick says, starting toward the desk. He eyes the supplies, but his foggy mind struggles to work through the project based on what’s littered across the desk. “What do we have going on here?”

Tim explains as Dick drops down into the chair across from Tim, but Dick’s having a hard time following. He nods when appropriate, offers a few light hums, but his eyes can only blankly stare. He’s really beginning to feel the heat of the fever. It clings to his cheeks and drags down his neck, stopping just short of his collarbone, where the heat dissapates to an uncomfortable sheet of ice atop his muscles. His jaw is clenched tight to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Dick?”

“Huh?” Dick blinks slowly, and Tim’s frowning at him.

“Did you... are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course.” Dick smiles easily, and he can visibly see some of the tension taut against Tim’s face fade. He picks up up something, twisting it around in front his his eyes. “So this thing needs to attach to...” he pauses, pointing, “that thing via... science?”

Tim huffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “You know, Bruce always raves about how smart you are, but there’s not a day that goes by where I wonder if he’s delusional.”

Dick clutches dramatically at his chest, and he purses his lips into a pout. “I’m hurt, Little Wing! I’ll have you know I was top of my class.”

“Then prove it,” Tim challenges, lips pulled into a flat, almost bored, line that contradicts the faint hint of fire in his eyes.

For the second time, Dick slots the headache, the fever, far into the back of his mind, instead hunching over and forcing his ears to send comprehensive sentences to his mind as he begins to work while Tim talks.

***

By the time Dick’s planted in front of the stove, he’s sure his fever’s spiking. The heat billowing up from the stovetop seems to skin into his face, mixing with the hot pressure of illness, and yet the rest of him, down to his toes, his positively freezing. He swipes the back of his hand against his forehead, his breaths coming out in hot puffs.

The others are talking behind him. Well, Damian and Tim are arguing, and Jason’s only chiming in to agree with one or the other. For a while, Dick was able to keep up, even offering his own input, but now, he can’t work his mind into multitasking, and right now, he needs to flip the grilled cheese.

He’s holding the spatula, but his vision’s starting to gray at the edges, a new development that’s currently capturing all of his focus. Second to that is the fact that he’s beginning to feel hot all over, to the point where his skin is prickling with sweat. The heat encompasses his vision, roars in his ears.

“Grayson? Are you burning the grilled cheese?”

“Don’t be a dick, Damian.”

“Both of you shut the hell up.”

The voices are faint, and Dick wants to ponder on why Jason sounds worried. Jason doesn’t do worried; that’s Bruce’s and Dick’s jobs. He very slowly turns around to see Jason walking toward him, and when he opens his mouth, his vision chooses that exact time to black out.

***

Dick comes to in slow waves, his mind immediately working through his surroundings without panic, as he’s been trained to do. He’s on the floor, and it’s cold, but the tile is familiar. And, he’s slumped against someone warm and broad. He thinks Bruce for a moment, but then there’s a voice that is definitely not Bruce speaking.

“Dick?”

It’s Jason, Dick easily supplies, and he sounds scared. Dick lifts his head and struggles to push himself away from Jason, swaying lightly despite being seated. “What happened?”

Jason’s eyes are narrow as they dart across Dick’s face. “You passed out.”

The three words are enough to bring Dick completely back to the present, and he whips his gaze to see Damian at the stove, trying to keep a fire from starting, and Tim tight against the doorway, arms crossed, worry clear across his face.

“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand down his face. “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

“You didn’t think-”

“-Jason, don’t,” Tim cuts in. “You can yell at him later. Right now, he doesn’t need to be on the floor.”

Dick’s shaking, unsure of just when he got so cold, and his head’s throbbing like mad. He pulls his gaze back to Jason, and he must really look awful because Jason’s face twists from anger then back to concern, and he starts to his feet, dragging Dick with him.

Dick’s unsteady, his legs wobbling, and he leans heavily into Jason as he’s guided out of the kitchen and into one of the many living rooms, where Jason eases him gently onto a couch.

“Have you taken anything?”

Jason’s voice is tight, and Dick shakes his head, draping an arm across his eyes to ease the pain the light filtering in from the window adds to the pressure already in his head. He can hear the others busying themselves around him, and then he’s being eased upward by Jason and offered a pill by Damian. He takes it, accepting the water Jason’s got in his other hand, and then he’s back on his back. A blanket’s draped over him, and then after some hushed debate above him, another one is added, which he’s mutely thankful for.

He tries to tug the blanket over his face, to block out the light, but Jason stops him with a low growl of “don’t,” and shortly after, a cold, damp cloth is being draped across his forehead.

“Here, Jason.”

Dick squints at the thermometer being handed to Jason, and he frowns when Jason presses it to his ear.

“Jay-”

“If you say ‘I’m fine,’ I’m going to call Bruce and have him bring down the wrath of Batman on your ass a thousand times over.”

The thermometer beeps quickly, before Dick can defend himself, and then he’s blinking slowly at the 103.2 degree reading flashing at him.

“See? Not fine,” Jason grumbles, leaving his spot on the edge of the catch and starting himself into a pace across the room.

“Dick, why didn’t you say something?”

Dick drags his gaze to the ceiling and tries not feel too hurt by Tim’s quiet voice. “I didn’t think it was important,” he admits and Jason throws his hands up, exasperated.

“Of course you fucking didn’t. Your self-sacrificial bullshit really grates on my nerves, Dick.”

“Jason-”

“-no. Todd is right,” Damian interrupts, cutting Tim off. “Grayson, your well-being is just as important as ours, if not more so. If you’re unwell, you should say so and rest.”

“You sound like Alfred,” Dick groans, eyes squeezing shut and only opening once more when Tim twists the blinds shut. “I just...” he tries, sighing deeply. “We’ve been through so much,” he starts, sure he’s got all eyes on him, “and we still have a long way to go. I didn’t want to cancel today and miss being with you three because of a small fever.”

“Small?”

“Jason,” Tim sighs. “Dick, you know I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it, but Damian is right. Everything today,” Tim pauses, gesturing around the room, “could have waited until you were better. We aren’t going anywhere.”

The thing is, that’s what Dick struggles to believe the most: that his family isn’t going anywhere. He suffered long through Jason’s first death, the pain was so deep it felt untouchable, and now he feels like he’s constantly chasing lost time, time that has the potential to be endlessly fragile.

“Ugh, stop,” Jason groans, and Dick whips a sharp gaze to him. “You have that stupid sad look on your face, and it’s annoying. You still wanna spend time with us, even though I personally think you should be hooked up in med-bay? Fine.” He pauses, turning to Tim, “Figure out something to watch. I’m going to try and salvage lunch.”

Jason storms out of the room before Dick can apologize, as he feels he needs to, and when he tries, Damian cuts him off by slapping at his legs so he can curl up on the end of the couch.

“Save it, Grayson. Just try not to be such an imbecile next time you have the plague, got it?”

“Once again,” Tim says, “I’m with Damian on this one.”

Dick smiles, the first genuinely real smile he’s mustered up all day. It’s tired, worn, and a little shaky, but it’s still real.

“I’ll try.”

[chili-aux]

Soothing Touches

Summary: Hange suffered from a headache alone until Levi came to her rescue.

Note: My first contribution to Levihan community. Inspiration sprouted from my headache. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy.

Link to cross-posting: AO3

Sitting on her wooden chair inside her messy laboratory, as Levi loved to call it, Hange puts her elbow on the table, fingers delicately massaging her pounding head. She cannot recall how did this headache start. Was it from her enthusiastic greetings to her subordinates this morning? No, because she is always like that. Was it from the experiment that she and Titan Eren did this afternoon? No, besides, she should not be the one who must have this excruciating pain because she was the one who conducted the experiment. 

‘Was it from lunch?’ Hange asked in her mind, recurrence of the conversation she had with Moblit surfaces, realization dawning on her.

“Squad Leader! Take a break, please!” Moblit said exasperatedly to her, ignoring his plea as she continuously writes down the necessary materials for their new technology, the Thunder Spear. She's feeling giddy about this ever since they found research information about it upon raiding the Military Police Brigade. Hange intended to use this new weapon to penetrate the Armored Titan's armoury skin. It might just be wishful thinking, but she hopes that it will damage Reiner, or their efforts will all be in vain.

“I’m busy right now, Moblit. I need to present this to Erwin immediately.” Hange replied without removing her attention from the paper. She got a sigh in return.

“Just please, eat or drink something.” Moblit pleaded one last time. Feeling bad, she assured him that she will do it later. The man left with slumped shoulders after.

Now, when was that later again? She completely forgot about it. Ironically, a scientist like her who possesses vast knowledge about the human organ systems and the effects of neglecting your bodily needs like eating will ignore her bodies' humanly calls. She just wants to pound her pulsing head to the table. This happened to her quite an amount of times before, but stubbornness is just one of her innate characteristics.

I need to eat.

Hange took a deep breath, before standing up but regret instantly invaded her system. She felt her world spinning, her blurry vision even gets blurrier. She holds the edge of the table, finding support to regain her balance. She was quite successful with this one, allowing her to take steps to the laboratory's door. While walking, however, the pounding became insistent, feeling her pulses pumping at her temples. She felt that this might escalate, much worse, to migraine.  She wished she was wrong with this one though.

Once outside, Hange calculated the minutes she might take to get to the cafeteria downstairs. Luckily for her, her office is just located on the 2nd floor of the Survey Corps’ Headquarters. There are three rooms the size of her lab she will pass by to get to the stairs, which has 25 steps.

“5 minutes or so? That bad, huh?” Hange said to herself before placing her right hand on the corridor wall as a support for her excruciating journey to fill her hollow stomach. Every step she takes, her head will pound with more intense pain, blood pumping more rapidly.

She sometimes stopped momentarily to regain her composure, collecting herself via deep breaths, leaning her head on the wall, and saying words of self-encouragement. Hange wished that some soldier will pass by to call for help, but she still believes that she can reach her destination. She can do this, she said, Titans are more merciless than this.

However, the pain levelled up to the point where tears are now escaping her eyes, feeling like vomiting whatever content her stomach has even if it’s empty for hours now. Her eyes are now sensitive to the firelights the hallway’s torches are emitting, bowing her head so she cannot see it. She lost the ability to tell the time now, not knowing how many minutes have passed until she reached the end of the hallway.

Grasping the conjunction of the two walls with shaky hands, she lifted her throbbing head up with tears still running down her face. She expected to see a deserted stair for she already feels hopeless that she will see anyone who can help her. Hange already lost her courage moments ago. But it seems like her incessant fight for humanity’s freedom had paid off.

“Levi…” Hange said with a sniff, voice laced with gratefulness. Even in her headache mess, she can still recognize the emotion that painted Levi’s handsome face. But before she can open her mouth again, she lost consciousness, Levi’s panicked expression was the last thing she saw.

-o-

The next thing Hange saw was a familiar ceiling, free of dust and cobwebs because of the owner’s excessive cleaning habits. She remembers the moments she woke up to this ceiling in peaceful cockcrows, nights of heeded passion let her fall into undisturbed slumber. She recalls the warmth that always envelops her, accompanied by the early morning sunlight, drawing herself to the arms that constantly welcomes Hange, returning the affection she received in the process.

This time, however, the only light that illuminates the room she had grown to love was the fire coming from the lamp, swaying and flickering in an age-old dance. She heightened up her hearing senses, raindrops falling on the solid ground can be heard from outside with wind whistling its natural hymn.

Then, Hange observed herself if she still has that freaking headache. She has, but the pain becomes tolerable now thankfully. That’s when she noticed a firm grip on her left hand, transferring her gaze slowly to the man holding her.

Levi.

He is sitting uncomfortably on his small stool, his head laid upon the soft mattress of his bed, supported by his left arm. Hange silently hopes that his muscles wouldn’t grow numb. Unsurprisingly, for her, the man is sleeping. Getting up as silent as possible, she glanced to the bedside table to see her glasses placed there, grasping and wearing it to see properly.

With a small smile painted on her face, she transferred her gaze once again to the sleeping Corporal, her free hand unconsciously reached for Levi’s soft hair. She ran her hand through the soft locks, down to the man’s handsome face, caressing the flawless skin of his cheeks with her delicate fingers.

Hange knows that Levi is insomniac, his daily sleep just ranged in 2-3 hours. However, her mind cannot help but trace back to the moment she first saw an asleep Levi.

It happened in her messy room one rainy night. While sitting on her comfy bed and reading her small findings of Titans for that day, courtesy of Eren of course, Hange heard a knock that she grew familiar with.

“Come in, shorty! Cannot sleep, huh?” Hange smiled at an entering Levi dressed in his white long-sleeved shirt and black pants. The man just rolled his eyes at her and nod tiredly.

Upon reaching her bed, Levi spoke, “Move your ass a bit, shitty glasses.”

Hange just stared at him for a moment, worried about the bags under his eyes that are growing gradually, days with lack of sleep are taking a toll on Humanity's strongest. Moments later, she broke out of her reverie, put her notes on her bedside table and complied, letting the man settle beside her.

Levi had other plans though. Instead of placing his head on the comfortable pillow, he laid on Hange’s lap, facing her stomach and encircling his arms around her slim waist. Hange’s eyes widened like a saucer, mouth releasing an audible gasp, her hands instinctively move up as if she had just been busted by the Military Police.

“Oi, Levi! W-what are you doing?!” Hange exclaimed. The man in question just gazes up briefly at her before burying his face on her tummy. "Hey, answer me!"

"Shut up, shitty glasses. I'm trying to sleep." Levi answered with a voice muffled by her clothes.

“If you want to sleep, why on my lap, you clean freak?!”

“Tch.” Levi, tired of her shouting, removed one arm around Hange. He reached for her right hand, pulling it down to place it on his hair. Hange’s jaw dropped again.

“What the?! You want me to pet you, Levi?! Are you a cat or something?!”

“Just do it, four eyes.” Noticing the tiredness in his voice, Hange just gave up and give Levi a soft continuous rub. Minutes have passed by in silence, spent with her just staring at the man’s handsome and peaceful face. She knows that the raven-haired man isn't sleeping yet, so she decided to ask what was bothering her from the start of… whatever this is.

“I thought… you don’t want to sleep in other people’s presence?” Hange asked carefully, almost whispering.

It took seconds or even a minute before Levi spoke, his answer shook Hange’s world like no other.

“You’re not just other people to me, four-eyes.”

While Hange tried to calm her rapid beating heart and removed the blush that painted her face, Levi finally succumbed to a peaceful slumber.

Hange just laughed at the memory, feeling the familiar butterflies that love pestering her tummy. Her heart beats hastily like how it pounds inside her chest during that flustering scene. Her small smile widens, gentleness and adoration for the man beside her and holding her hand like it was his lifeline. She just stared at his sleeping face happily in tranquil when his lips suddenly moved.

"Draw me now, it will last longer," Levi said with his usual grumpy voice.

“Eh! When did you wake up?!” Hange yelled from shock. Damn it, she thought.

Lifting his head, Levi stretched his arm that he used as a support to remove its numbness. Hange just looked at him, blushing and admiring how the flare from the lamp accentuated his immaculate features. Then the man turned his head and looked at her, steel blue eyes staring straight into brown orbs.

Hange can feel the man studying every part of her, his eyes and expression unreadable. She can feel a lump forming in her throat, a bead of sweat ran down from her hair to her temple. Her hands that Levi’s yet to let go is getting clammy, which she is sure that the man had noticed. She can sense the brewing anger from the man as the hold in her hand tightened.

With her eyes hurting from not blinking, combined with the intensity from those blue eyes that she cannot already take, Hange closed her eyes and bow her head.

“I-I’m sorry if I made you take care of me again, Levi," Hange said lowly, guilt plagued her system in a record speed. “Moblit tried to remind me to take a break but I forgot. So yeah.”

“Ahh. As if that’s something new, four eyes. Now,” Hange suddenly felt fingers under her chin, lifting it to gaze up in her beautiful brown orbs. Their eyes met and she was captivated once more. “Does your head still hurt?”

"A little," Hange answered softly.

Letting go of her hand, Levi suddenly stood up, and said, “Move your ass a bit, shitty glasses.”

“It’s the second time you said that to me. But whatever,” Hange teasingly said, which Levi just scoffed at, and just move a bit like how the captain wishes. Levi sat and leaned his back securely on the headboard. What he did next shocked her though.

The man just tapped his freaking thighs, people!

Whilst Levi just stared at her expectantly, Hange is still processing what she saw, giving the man an incredulous look. And her eyeballs went out of its socket when Levi tapped his thighs again.

"W-What?! Are you kidding me?" She screamed, moving closer to the man to put her hand on his forehead, checking if he got the flu or something. "You're not even sick! What have you eaten to say those freaky things, huh Levi? I'm- "

Her rambling stopped when Levi held her hands at once, pulling her body closer to his, diminishing the distance between them. Hange released a yelp with the sudden movement and gazed up immediately to the Lance Corporal, seeing the intensity that his eyes always emit.

Realizing what he did, Levi grumbled under his breath, “Tch. Just fucking do it, four eyes, while I’m still in the mood.” Before she can complain once more, Levi continued, “Enough peevish.”

Hange just sighed and scooted a little further towards the edge of the bed, then lay her head where the captain wants it to be after. The man then removed the hair strands under her nape, making it sprawl out freely on the top of her brunette. Closing her eyes, she felt the man taking the glasses off her face before placing it carefully on the bedside table. Then a cool fragrant mint enveloped her senses, the substance that Levi always apply when Levi or she suffered from stress and sleep deprivation.

That’s when Hange felt it, cool, strong fingers pressing on her temple with a firm circular motion. Those delicate fingers then moved to her forehead, meeting in the middle, and slowly traced a line back to the side, whilst she hummed in glee as the pain slowly subsides. After this soothing pattern, Levi’s hands then transferred to the scalp of her unwashed locks, massaging her head on all sides in continuous presses. She let out a pleased moan as Levi massaged a particular spot, her head reeling with the satisfying pressure. Then Levi gathered her brunette locks in one hand, proceeds on tugging it in with careful interval, making her remember the time when Levi purposely made her look at him by holding her messy ponytailed hair atop of their horses before an expedition. She just chuckled at the memory.

“What are you laughing at, shitty glasses?” Levi asked, which Hange just giggled at. “Oi!”

“It’s nothing, Levi. I just remembered when you tugged my hair to call me an abnormal. Well, you’re not wrong though.”

“Tch. Did you also remember that I regretted that? Your hair is so fucking greasy! You didn’t even bathe that time, four-eyes!” While Levi grimaced with the memory, Hange just laughed her ass off.

Opening her eyes, she saw piercing but gentle blue eyes staring intently at her. Despite her upside-down view, Hange appreciates how handsome Levi looked, how even if he always displayed that nonchalant face, his façade will go down when he is with her. That even though she was the messiest person that the man ever encountered, Levi still stayed with her, treat her like she is the most important figure in this goddamn cruel world that they lived in. That inside closed rooms, Hange can freely strip her inhibitions and Levi won't judge but expressed genuine love and care for her.

Hange slowly reached for Levi’s face. Caressing his soft and flawless skin with her fingers, she saw Levi leaning down towards her, which made her closed her eyes again. She first felt his soft lips on her forehead, kissing her gently without minding that it was still coated by that minty substance he just used for her headache. Then he traced tender kisses to her nose, making her laugh a little as the action sends ticklish bolts to her cheeks, making them glow with sweet pink blushes. Levi stroked her cheeks with both of his calloused but caring fingers, before moving further.

With lips tingling in anticipation, Hange moved her head up slightly as Levi reached what he intended to devour. Then their lips met, slowly meshing and mingling with each other, both savouring the familiar and homey taste of one another. Hange's hands managed to snake around Levi’s head, fingers feeling the soft locks and baby hairs of his undercut. As she pulled him closer, Levi’s tongue knocks on her mouth, pushing its way to her hot cavern, relishing every part for his satisfaction. Hange hummed as Levi sucked on her tongue, electrifying delight immediately ran through her body. With pleasure reeling both of their heads, Levi and Hange continuously taste each other until the need for air arises.

Parting, Hange gets up and faces Levi, sitting herself up on the raven-haired man’s lap and welcoming her fully by wrapping one arm around her slim waist. Flipping her hair away from her neck, Hange placed her thoroughly kissed lips on Levi’s, battling for dominance, expressing their passionate love and deep admiration for each other. Pressing her body closer to his, his free hand managed to sneak under her shirt, caressing the warm smooth skin, pinching it softly as the atmosphere around them intensify. After a minute full of fervent kisses, they separate, foreheads pressed, nose touching, and heaving breaths mixing.

“You okay now, shitty glasses?” Levi huskily whispered on her still stinging red lips.

“A-huh, thanks to my clean freak, best service, no fees included. As if I’m paying him anyway.” Hange answered, snickering.

“As if you had the money to pay me, four-eyes. News flash, you can’t.” Then Levi moved to whisper in her ear, licking her earlobe before saying, “But I know a way that you can, no fees included.”

“Oh, hot shit, Corporal!” Hange cannot help but scream and laugh at the same time. Levi saying dirty remarks isn’t new to her, but due to the man’s flowery language, she is always amazed when he does. Besides, it’s only for her.

Pushing herself away from the man, she giggled and said, “C’mon Levi, I’m hungry.”

“You just fucking noticed, huh? I keep hearing that monster grumble when… Never mind.” Levi suddenly stood up and walked to the door.

Hange also stood up and laughingly followed the Corporal, “What ‘when’? Huh, shorty?!”

“Shut up, Hange.”

“Make me, Levi!”

As their bickering continues and their echoing footsteps match the sound of  the pouring rain, Hange sketched this rare and precious memory inside her now healing head. In the middle of their journey to the kitchen, they unconsciously held each other's hands. And Hange thought she will never mind another round of headache if she can feel Levi’s soothing touches again.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

just full on bodies you with a semi NEW FIC JUST DROPPED BABES

we are leaving cute high school world and entering pain town. this story will have mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation. Please take care of yourselves and don't engage if that sort of content is triggering to you. (be nice to yourselves, i love you)

The worst year of his life starts out the same as so many good days, it almost makes him dizzy to think back on. He feels, later, that a start to this much torment, this painful, should have begun completely fucking miserable, but it had been just any other day. It starts the same way so many days before it starts. His eyes open. He’s in his bedroom, in his bed, like normal. He’s staring up at his black ceiling, wrapped up in his bedspread. His phone buzzes, and he groans, reaches for it, scans messages. A good morning from Barbara, an unread goodnight from Adam, a text from that talent agency that there was something they could use his voice for. He throws back his blankets, rubs sleep from his eyes, and dresses.

In high school his uniform had been an oversized striped hoodie, but for his birthday a few years ago, Charles had bought him several nice dress pants, suit jackets, and collared shirts, and he’d sort of settled into that as his new everyday. He likes how he looks, because this shit is expensive, custom, made to fit his more generous frame, and both his partners always say he looks handsome in a jacket and tie. (Sometimes Barbara yanks him around by the tie. Sometimes Adam snaps his suspenders.) And besides, his dad had taken his preferences into consideration, because all the pieces he’d been gifted had that pattern he was drawn to, thick black and white stripes that absolutely stand out in a crowd. He dresses quickly, throws on his suit jacket over his pinstriped shirt. He adjusts his tie, and gives a grin. Too many teeth, too sharp, and he waves a hand in front of his mouth, and tries again. Human teeth. There we go, B-Man. He lifts his legs, not especially in the mood to walk, and begins to make his way downstairs, for breakfast. He passes by Lydia’s room, and considers harassing his sister, but he remembers how bad he needed his Saturday sleep-ins at fifteen, and takes pity on her, floating past her door silently.

His father, always an early riser, is already in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee, and Betelgeuse lets his feet hit the floor, so that his heeled boots clack against the kitchen tile.

Charles knows the sound, doesn’t even turn around. “Morning, BJ. Any plans for today?”

His relaxed, not exactly actively working lifestyle is not his dad’s favorite, but he’s got a long time, a lot longer than any other person, to work a job. He's just enjoying the time he gets with all his favorite breathers, before he doesn’t have it anymore. At least, that’s always been his excuse. It's not that he can't find work, or that he’s unhirable to a normal job, it’s that he’s trying to enjoy life. Obviously.

But there's good news this morning.

“Got a text from th’ agency. Some voice work,” he grunts. His insanely gravely voice is not always in high demand, but it's been getting some attention lately, mostly because the last commercial he did voice over for, he had to sing, and the request for more of that has been promising. The big goal is some acting gig, on stage, preferably, but he’d take TV, too. He loves the attention, he loves the rush, he loves entertaining. Unfortunately he’s got a demonic aura that makes breathers nervous on principle. He knows if he could just get a break, he’d have a lot to give… but he’s maybe not working on getting that break as hard as he could be.

“Very nice,” Charles finally turns, and smiles, clearly approving. He sets a cup of coffee in front of his son, and BJ glances at it. “Be a pal and wake your mother up?” “This early? On a Saturday?” He squints. “You tryna take me out via Emily attack?” “We’ve got that check up to go to,” Charles says. “I don’t want to be late.”

He shrugs, takes the cup, and vanishes from sight, appearing upstairs, next to his mother. Emily is still wrapped in the bedsheets, snoring lightly, but he knows the trick to rousing her. The coffee cup is waved around her nose, allowing the aroma to hit her senses, and, eyes still closed, she reaches for it. He pulls the cup back.

“Come on, ma,” he scratches gently at her scalp. “Time to get up.” “Coffeeeee,” she groans, reaching at it blindly again, and he grins, and walks backwards, setting the coffee on the dresser, across the room. “Coffee’s over here, Deetzy,” he tells her, and she finally cracks an eye open, and groans. “Evil. Evil son.” “Yup,” he agrees, easily. “Come on. Chuck says you got some appointments to keep.” His mother groans, and kicks back the sheets, before standing.

He’d been twelve, and herself only about thirty when she’d found him, and now, ten years later, at 40, her age is showing, a little. She’s been growing in gray hair for the past few years, and it hasn’t taken over her natural sunshine yellow, but it’s becoming a bit more noticeable, and the slight lines forming around her mouth and eyes are a new addition to her features. Chuck’s aging in much the same way, but with fewer laugh lines. The hair at his father’s temples is going gray, and if he really looks, he can see the beginnings of salt and pepper in his father’s beard. He doesn’t like looking for it, though, and doesn't like the feeling gnawing in his guts at seeing his parents age. If he had his way, they’d stay frozen in time, the way he probably will. Demons don’t age, past a certain point, and he’s pretty sure he’ll be hitting it, soon enough.

He watches his mother shuffle across the floor, and claim her prize of coffee. She takes a long sip, and then groans. “I don’t want to go to the doctor,” she complains to him, and he pats her shoulder. “I know, ma,” he gives her a very sympathetic smile. “But you gotta. Or Chuckles will throw a fit. It’s just a check up, right? No biggie.” She rubs at her temple, and winces. “Getting old sucks,” she tells him. “I’ve been having the worst headaches, recently.”

When they make it back downstairs, Chuck's got breakfast going, and Lydia is sipping her own coffee. Black, like her heart, she always says. He passes her by and ruffles that mop of long blonde hair. “Beetle breath,” she greets him, as he takes a plate from Charles, and sits to eat.

The voice over work isn't as big a deal as he was hoping. He adjusts his tie, fiddles with the collar of his pinstripe dress shirt, and steps out of the booth. “Fuckin’ peanuts,” he complains, and his agent just shrugs. “Gotta start small, BJ. We need someone to do some crooning for this other comercial, some car sale, or something. You feel like playing Sinatra for a bit?”

Not especially, but he does it anyway, and then meets Adam and Barbara for lunch. Adam’s taking classes for business management, and he’s just about done. He wants to take over his grandpa’s hardware store, outside of the city. Way outside, actually, in some little town in Connecticut. They’ve got shared plans, shared dreams, and all of it hinges on this little store in this little town. BJ isn’t too worried. His boyfriend’s hobbies come and go, but Adam really, really enjoys woodworking, and getting to own a place like that sounds like getting to own his own playground.

Barbara, meanwhile, is stuck in clerical work, which she finds mind numbingly dull, but it's a steady paycheck, and it’s afforded her a ticket out of her dad’s place, so that’s something. She and Adam share a tiny studio apartment in Queens, and for all the time Betelgeuse spends there, he might as well live there, too. But three people in a studio isn’t any of their idea of a good time. Speaking of…

“I was on zillow, today,” Adam starts, and he and Barbara lean over with varying degrees of interest, as Adam shows them his phone. It’s a house, predictably, but a nice one. Old fashioned, and a little creeping looking. He likes it.

“She’s a bit of a fixer upper,” he says, admiring the house. “But the price is right, and look at all this character. Classic Queen Anne, with the original crown molding! Tons of space, lots of room for the three of us.” “Maybe a forth,” Barbara smiles brightly, and he matches her enthusiasm. She’s wanted to be a mom since he’s known her, six pretty amazing years, and while a lot has changed in that time, her maternal desire is as strong as ever.

“Maybe a fifth,” BJ grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she flushes. “One from each of my boys.” She agrees, and she reaches across the table, for his hand, which he gives her. Adam takes her other hand, and they’re lost in that fantasy for a moment. He’s not actually sure he can give her what she wants, since he’s not exactly human, but Adam can, at least. And he gets to be part of it. Goddamn, he’s lucky.

“So? Tell us about this commercial you just did!” Adam smiles at him.

“S’not a big deal, just some radio ad,” He tells them, but he’s flattered that they’re always overly enthusiastic about his bit parts. “I heard you on the radio in the office, a few days ago!” Barbara remembers. “My coworkers couldn’t believe that was your real voice! You make such a good villain.” Of course he does. He keeps the smile on, because he knows Babs, knows that she means it in the sweetest, most lovey dovey way possible, but he’s never going to play the hero, because no hero sounds like a demon. He can’t get in his head about this, not right now. Not when the weather’s so nice, and he’s sitting across from the people he loves the most.

“I am the villain, babes,” he grins at her, and stands, leaning over to kiss and rub his stubble into her neck, until laughing, she pushes him away.

“Maybe you should come to the office with me, tomorrow,” Chuck says, over dinner. BJ resists the urge to stab himself through the eye with his fork. “M’not that into real estate, pop,” he tells him, and Emily smiles. “You know BJ’s an artist.” “I just think if he gave it a try,” Charles says, looking to his wife. “That he’d excel at it. I mean, good lord, all real estate is, is making deals and fast talking. He’s built for that sort of thing.” Betelgeuse grimaces. “But then I’d have to spend any amount of time around your coworkers, an’ those other big money creeps.” “Those big money creeps write the checks that paid for this house, BJ,” Chuck reminds him.

“I’ll be sure to send Maxie Dean a fruit basket.”

“Skip the fruit, just send that freak ass a basket of snakes,” Lydia says, and he grins. “Do not do that.” “Psh. Whatever, dad,” he pitches his voice into a teenage whine, and his father gives a dry smile in return. “So, that doctor appointment?” Lydia looks to Emily, and their mother smiles. “Got some scans done, no biggie. Checkups just suck. I’ve been having those migraines, recently, but the doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

He’s staring down at his mother, in hospice, and those words echo around his mind. No big deal. The doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Just a couple migraines. Just some dizziness. Just some nausea. Just a tumor. Just another breather’s life, coming to an end.

Her bedroom is dark. The curtains are drawn. He’s sitting to her left, Lydia dozing to her right, and Emily is sleeping, dozing lightly. Chuck’s talking to the nurse in the hall. The last twelve months are a blur. He can’t remember individual days, can only remember when those test results came back. He remembers, vaguely, holding her hand during treatments. But there’s nothing any breather alive can do about the tumor, about the placement of it. At least she’s at home, at least she’s laying in her own bed. At least she’s not stuck in the hospital. Her sun colored hair is gone. Her smile is gone. That mischievous glint in her eyes is gone. All Emily does is sleep. All they can do is wait. read the rest of this chapter, plus the second one i couldn't help but post, over here, on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/32243065/chapters/79911316

[thiswasinevitableid]

for mermay, indruck, 5, sfw? poison could refer to a love potion of some kind, or maybe a blue-ringed octopus (or other poisonous sea creature) mer?

Here you go!

Even with his future sight warning him this would be awkward, Indrid twitches his tail nervously as Juno, the volunteer checking him in to the venom donor clinic, frowns at her intake form. 

“See, trouble is, because today’s a mer donor day, most of them give their donations from barbs. You’re gonna have to give from your fangs right?”

“Yes.” Maybe he should just cut his loses, come back on one of the Naga days, and hope no one tries to kill him.

“Volunteers gotta go through special training for milking fangs, so you may have to wait until one of them is available.”

“I do not mind waiting. I came to donate, and I have no urgent engagements. Is there somewhere I can be out of your way?”

Juno smiles, “We got some nice sunny rocks--hold that thought. Duck, you just get here?” She calls this to a human in khaki clothing. His black hair is streaked with grey--matching Indrid’s tail--and his smile is so bright Indrid wants to bask in it.

“Yep! Thacker got to the station a little early so I could clock out sooner. Seems like you got somethin’ I can help with.”

“Sure can. Duck, this is” she glances at the form, “Indrid. He’s a mer, but he needs to donate via fangs.”

“Roger that.” The man holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid shakes his hand, his visions having taught him this is the correct way to reciprocate the greeting. 

“How long can you be outta the water?”

“Quite some time.”

“Great, in that case we’ll just go to the normal milkin station rather than me luggin things down here. Right this way.”

Indrid slithers up the beach behind him, drawing perplexed stares from humans and distrustful ones from the other mers. Duck holds open the flap on a tall, tan tent and Indrid heads inside. 

“You ever given venom before?”

“No. I, I am only recently back in the area. When I heard about the program I knew I could be of help.”

“Sure can. Sea krait, right?” Duck gestures to the silver and black of his tail. 

“Yes” Indrid smiles; most people just say snake.

“You reptile cousins can really fuck a human up. And who knows, your venom might be one of the kinds they can engineer multiple anti-vemons from.”

“I would like that. I like humans, and wish to help you. It is not your fault so very many things can kill you.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “what happens if a King Naga bites you? Or even another venomous mer?”

“....I die. Ah, I, ah, see your point.” He smiles, sheepish, “apologies, although I wish to help humans, most of them prefer to stay far away from me, and so my manners are not always what they should be.”

“No harm done. Here,” he steps up onto a short stool, holding out a half circle of plastic filled with strong, astringent liquid, “put this in your mouth and bring your fangs out; we learned we have to disinfect them right before we milk.”

“PHeelphhh” Indrid winces as the liquid stings his senses. 

“I know, it ain’t pleasant. Won’t be much longer.” The human stretches a thin sheet of rubber across a shallow circle, checks his watch, and then steps back onto the stool, “okay, when I say open, open your mouth wide so I can slide that one out and get this one in position. Don’t bite down until I say to.”

Indrid nods, opens his mouth when commanded. Even with the disinfectant in his noses, Duck’s scent is overwhelming from so close up; sweat, sunscreen, soap, and something woody that must be his deodorant. He bites down when Duck says, drops of venom pattering into the container. The human keeps one eye on the time, explaining that he doesn’t want Indrid to exhaust all his venom accidentally, thus rendering him vulnerable or unable to hunt. 

“Aaaand done, go ahead and put those fangs away.” Duck removes the collection jar, labels it and puts it in a fridge as Indrid stretches his jaw, tensed from giving such a prolonged injection bite. 

“Now, we always give donors a thank you; come pick what you like.” He swings open a second fridge. Indrid cocks his head, studying the packs of what he knows to be sushi and the different types of fruit. Flicking out his tongue, he scents something delicious, and picks up a bottle of pink liquid.

“I will have this Guava Juice.” He pops the cap and dips his tongue in for a taste, then for a second and a third. A charming noise enters the air, like a bird who long ago gave up on being dignified. Duck’s laughing. 

“Sorry, wasn’t expectin that to be so cute.”

Indrid blushes; that’s not a word generally applied to him. 

“Thank you for the juice. And for acomodating me.”

“Any time. Welcome to come back the next time we host a drive.” The human holds the door open for him, waves as he slithers down the sand, sipping his juice. 

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

“Hello, Duck.”

Duck doesn’t even turn around before he replies, “Nice to see you back, Indrid.”

This marks the fourth venom donation day the mer has come to, and he always gets paired with Duck. Duck doesn’t mind one bit; Indrid might be alarming to look at, not the elegantly finned, otherwise humanoid creature most people expect a mer to be. His scales appear on his arms and shoulders, and there’s even a patch of them on the back of his neck. His eyes are blood red, his smile wide and a little alarming even without the fangs showing. He’s also sweet, in an odd way, and takes genuine interest in Duck’s wellbeing and daily life. 

Honestly, Duck wouldn’t chatting with him at a time when he isn’t jamming venom collection jars into his mouth. But asking to hang out with a patient is weird enough without the added difficulty of that patient needing to be in the water most of the time. 

They go through their usual routine, Indrid helping himself to a mango juice this time before waving goodbye. 

Two days later, Duck is checking on tree specimens when he senses red eyes on his back.

“You do not want to touch that trunk, there is a very large spider in that knot.”

“Indrid?”

“......no?”

“Just a prescient voice in the trees?”

“Yes. I am a very helpful tree.”

Duck turns in the direction of the river, one that feeds directly into the sea, “You know I ain’t gonna be mad if you wanna talk, right?”

“Of course, it was merely an attempt at a goof.” Indrid comes into view, peeking out from the bushes on the shoreline, “I was curious about your work and wanted to see you in action.”

“Afraid there ain’t much of that. What you’ve seen is kinda the gist of what I do.”

“I find it fascinating all the same. May I continue watching?”

Duck smiles, “Sure.”

Indrid turns out to be excellent company, in that he’s quiet for large stretches of time only to ask Duck about the exact thing he wants to talk about. It’s not until Duck is wrapping up and readying to head inland to the ranger station that Indrid asks an entirely new kind of question.

“You are a long way from home, aren’t you?”

He nods, “Spent decades in my home town, feelin like I couldn’t leave, like I had a responsibility to stay. When the chance to work out here, to try to preserve this fuckin amazin ecosystem, popped up, I decided it was time for a change of scene.”

He shivers as Indrid’s tail pets his ankle and the mer sighs, “I am glad you did.”

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

Indrid becomes a regular work companion after that. Sometimes he arrives with helpful information, like which paths might have tourists in need of assistance or where Duck can find the specimen he’s looking for, other times he comes just to talk or listen. These days, Duck finds himself hoping for the glimpse of silver and black in the water that announces his friend’s presence, and enjoying the appreciative looks he spies Indrid giving him when he thinks his back is turned. 

So when something slithers in the bushes behind him, he simply calls out, “What’d you think of those cookies Juno brought in yesterday?”

“I do not know of what you speak, human.”

He whirls, finds a King Naga staring him down. This is probably bad, probably the reason rangers are required to carry a machete or hatchet, but he doesn’t want to be wrong and hurt someone just because they startled him.

“Can I, uh, help you with anythin, sir?”

“Yesss, you can. Be a nice human and stay where you are. I hate having to chasssse my food.”

“Uh” he steps backwards, keeping one eye on the fanged mouth, “that ain’t necessary. Know plenty of places you can get food, if you want.”

“Meager portionssss. And not half assss tempting.”

“Look man, I don’t wanna fight, so please just back off.”

The naga hisses, winding closer at an alarming speed. Then there’s a burst of movement and a flash of silver.

“You stay away from him.” Indrid rises as tall as he can, his body between Duck and the threat. 

“Mind your own busssiness, ssseagoer.” 

“Someone trying to make a meal out of my friend is most definitely my business.” 

“Sssso be it.” The naga lunges. Indrid pushes Duck out of the way and catches his opponent, the force of the strike sending them both sliding down the incline towards the river. The naga outweighs Indrid by a considerable amount, keeps pinning him down only for the mer to wriggle free at the last moment.  Duck knows the agreement is humans stay out of Naga/merfolk conflicts, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to sit by and let Indrid get killed for his sake. 

Right as he locates a large, hopefully sturdy branch, there’s a tremendous splash. The naga thrashes in the water as he’s pulled downstream. Indrid is underwater, holding his opponent in such a way that, the next time he strikes, he has to put his head beneath the current. Right into Indrid’s waiting grasp. The mer keeps his head trapped as his tail whips back and forth. It’s only when the naga is mostly limp, and Duck afraid he’s just witnessed a murder, that Indrid releases him. The half-drowned creature drags himself onto the shore, slithering away without a second glance at Duck. 

“And, and do not come back!” Indrid pants from the shallows, struggling to pull himself back onto the sand. Duck hurries down to him, and Indrid reaches out his hand, concerned, “Are, did, did he hurt you.”

“No, not a fuckin scratch. ‘Drid, pretty sure you just saved my fuckin life.”

“Oh good.” Indrid’s smile is bright, even as his eyes grow blurry, “it is nice to end things with a worthwhile deed.”

Duck sees the puncture wounds in the merman’s arm the instant before he passes out.

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

Indrid wakes up, which is in and of itself a surprise. As is the fact he’s half submerged in water. Rolling over with a groan, he discovers he’s still on the beach where he fought the naga. His bandaged arm aches but is intact, someone has thoughtfully placed a pillow under his head, and there’s a small tent just up the incline. Sound asleep in a sitting position outside the tent is Duck. 

He wriggles and crawls his way to the human, arms giving out as he reaches him, which means his head lands in Duck’s lap.

“Huwhazzat? Oh fuck, ‘Drid, you’re up.” Instead of pushing him away, Duck cradles his head and pets his hair, “thank fuck, I was so fuckin worried. Dani said it might take a few days for you to recover but I couldn’t stop worryin.”

“Duck? How long have you been here looking after me?” 

“Since you got bit. So three days ago. Sarah got some anit-vemon down for you, and Dani swam up to bring you extra medicine just in case. Oh, and Barclay brought you food, I been tryin to get it into you when you were a little bit awake.”

Indrid manages to sit up, curling his tail around them, “You did not need to do all this for me. I knew the risks when I came to your aid. You did not need to save me in return.”

“Fuck need, I wanted to. You, you mean so fuckin much to me.” Duck strokes his cheek, runs his fingers up his tail, “I missed you so much the last three days, realized how so often the part of my afternoon was you comin to talk to me.”

The futures take an odd turn and Indrid shakes his head to clear them, certain he’s seeing wrong. 

“And, uh, and I wanted to ask, uh, when you’re feelin better do you, uh, wanna have dinner with me. Like, uh, on a date?”

“Yes, so very much” Indrid drapes his arms around him, resting their foreheads together.

“Mind if I get a little kiss to tide me over?”

Indrid dips his head down, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before rubbing their cheeks together with a purr, “Apologies, but my kisses must be close mouthed. I’d hate to nick you with a fang.”

“Fine by me.” Duck kisses his shoulders, rubs his tail, “any kind of kiss from you is a goddamn blessin. Besides” he murmurs in Indrid’s ear, “sure we can figure out lots of other things to do together.”

“Absolutely” Indrid purrs, “but for now, would you care to join me for a swim?”

[gospelofme]

A Waking Nightmare

Mah bad guys.

Bly made a mental note to thank whoever approved the cooling system in the armor. He was being sarcastic though. It did nothing to cut the heat on Felucia. The Commander of the 327th Star Corps kept his mouth shut though. Complaining didn’t do anything for troop moral. Besides, Galle had already announced he had sweat in unpleasant places.

They were on the hunt for Shu Mai, a member of the Separatist Council. They had heard the rumor that General Kenobi had found Grievous, but Bly had his doubts about whether the General would be successful. Grievous had slipped through Kenobi’s grasp many times. But maybe not this time...

That notion led to another thought, Bly’s gaze traveling from the surrounding jungle to Aayla. What would happen after the war? She’d likely go back to doing whatever it was Jedi did prior to the war. But what about him? There was no place for soldiers during peacetime. Rumors were floating around about them all being put into stasis and stored until they were needed again. That option terrified him. It wasn’t the storage part that he feared, but the thought of never seeing Aayla again.

There had been moments between them that had made Bly wonder if she was as loyal to the Jedi Code as she claimed. Of course, he could’ve been misreading things. He had zero prior experience with women and nonprofessional relationships. But his gut told him that he wasn’t overthinking anything. And if there was one thing Bly knew, it was to listen to his instincts.

“What are you thinking about Commander?” Aayla asked him, flashing him a coy smile over her shoulder. He loved that smile.

“Just wondering if General Kenobi is going to get Grievous this time.” He replied, that was partially true.

“I hope so. If not to end the war, then to avoid Kenobi having a mental breakdown. Between Skywalker’s recklessness and Grievous constantly outsmarting him, it’s a wonder he still has hair.” She joked, he laughed. She loved that laugh.

Aayla had found herself wondering what would happen to Bly after the war. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to keep him as her Commander. Even though she hated the thought of him as an object, he didn’t belong to her. She felt nervous at the thought of him no longer being by her side. He had been her constant companion since the beginning. She had had no experience in war prior to Geonosis and none when it came to leading troops and keeping them inspired. Bly had expressed confidence in her first, but she wondered if he was simply deferring to her because she was handed the rank of General. She felt she didn’t deserve such a rank, having not done anything to earn it. But it became apparent that he truly believed in her, often snapping at other troopers who doubted her. He kept them in a tight line.

She had grown comfortable with him beside her in all circumstances. Both awake and asleep. There had been nights where she couldn’t relax unless she was next to her Commander. She’d often picked his brain about everything from strategies to politics to beliefs. He’d opened up to her about his fears and she shared hers with him. She had tried to convince herself that her feelings for him were the result of being in high stress situations. That she didn’t love him, as the Code forbade such emotions. But her instinct, the Force perhaps, told her that wasn’t true. The Force was correctly identifying her feelings for him as love. It was an emotion she had struggled with in the past, but she felt it stronger here than with any other.

Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the men saw it clearly. Galle having started a bet on which one would confess first. So far, their bets were on Bly. They figured Aayla would be too held back by the Code.

“What will happen to you? After?” Aayla asked Bly, slowing her pace to walk next to him. They fell in step together instantly.

“I don’t know. A few men have heard rumors, but nothing has come from higher up.” Bly shrugged.

“Well, whatever happens, I hope it keeps you close to Coruscant.” She said softly, blushing. She couldn’t see Bly’s face as he looked at her, it was shielded by his helmet. She allowed her hand to touch his arm. She’d never felt him without that armor on, but she’d often wondered what it was like. Maybe she would find out if Kenobi finally captured Grievous.

His comm suddenly alerted, Bly slowing his pace to answer it. Aayla looked back at him,

“Go on, I’ll catch up.” He said, waving her onward. She smirked and nodded. Bly opened the comm link connection.

The voice that flowed through his helmet speakers was unknown to him. But that didn’t matter.

“Commander Bly, execute Order 66.”

Something clicked, Bly briefly wondered what that was, but he heard himself automatically respond.

“Yes my Lord.”

Bly felt himself start to jog forward, to catch up to his General. The words “traitorous” and “betrayal” floated around in his mind.

No, that’s not true! That’s not who she is! He told himself, but it didn’t matter. The protocol was active, which means the Jedi had to have betrayed the Republic.

He relayed the message to the rest of his men via their private frequency, they looked at him for the signal.

Bly tried to drop his weapon.

No! Stop walking, stop running!!! Stop feet stop!!! Holy kriff Aayla please feel something please!!

But nothing. He was trapped in his mind, which didn’t even feel like his anymore. Aayla looked at him as he caught up.

“Do you think there droids watching us?” She asked, having caught the tensed up body language of the other men.

“No.” Bly answered coldly.

AAYLA RUN!!! GO!!! PLEASE SENSE SOMETHING!!! FEEL THAT THIS ISN’T RIGHT!!!! PLEASE, I CAN’T CONTROL THIS!!!! RUN RUN RUN!!!!!!

But he raised his blaster.

Put it down! Put it down! Drop it hands!!! Throw it away!! Aayla slice it in half!!!

He pulled the trigger, screaming inside as the bolt slammed into her back. His men followed suit, firing into her.

NO GALLE STOP!! STAND DOWN!!! DON’T DO THIS!!! PLEASE STOP!!!! He felt his heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces.

After she was dead, Bly scooped up her lightsaber as proof.

“Time to leave boys.” He ordered, turning his men around.

“Finally!! I need to get out of these sweaty blacks.” Galle muttered.

Tag list

@jgvfhl @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun

@baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

[chrissyutimagines]

Damsel in Distress

This is a soulmate au one shot. As per usual, '---------' marks point of view changes, and the setting is on the surface. This one is with a gender neutral reader, starring Butch from @bigoltrashpile. I don't own Butch, and if you want to read more about him please go to their blog. Oh, I've gotten permission to use their characters for a series of soulmate au stories. Stay tuned for more~ It would take a long while tho...

In this dangerous, shady world, you led a quiet, normal life.

Living in a small but cozy apartment, working as a front desk manager at a small hotel, hanging out with a few friends... It all seems normal, except for one thing... You've never been caught in the midst of any sort of chaos, be it a simple bar fight or a massive mafia shootout.

A usually rowdy speakeasy would be oddly quiet with you there, never getting attacked walking down a dark alleyway, a mafia shootout taking place in the area you had just left a few minutes ago... It was like you had some kind of lucky aura that protected you from the dangers of this society. Because of this you have been given the nickname 'Clover'.

You've always gave them a smile and accepted the nickname...

But you knew luck won't always be on your side...

Glancing down at your wrist, you see a short message tattooed on it.

'you okay, doll?'

It was said that those words are the first words your soulmate tells you.

...and by the looks of it, you'd be in quite a bit of trouble when the time comes.

You've received a letter from your friend, whose family is stupid rich, and was invited to a masquerade ball to celebrate the fifth anniversary of their luxurious hotel.

Knowing your friend, they will call you to shop for dresses in 3, 2, 1...

'Ring' Ah. Just as expected.

You pick up the phone.

"Hey Sof."

"OMG! Did you get my invitation?! We're going shopping in a minute! You better be ready by then! Oh! And we need to catch up lately! It's been too long!"

"Heheh! Sof, we were chatting just two days ago!"

"Yeah! Way too long! See you in a few minutes! 'click'"

Typical Sofia. Well, loud or not she's a good friend. And you should better change clothes before she...

'Ding dong!'...arrives.

You sigh and go greet your friend.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"Oh! I was in the car when I called you! Now go change into some decent clothes! We need to get some proper dresses for the ball!"

She herds you into your bedroom and a short while later you're in a high-end dress shop. While you gape at the beautiful yet expensive dresses, your friend starts searching through the various dresses.

"Don't just stand there! Come over here. It's not like you've been to this place before."

"Alright, alright. I'm coming."

The both of you start to pick the best dresses while making small talk.

"...so I just went like- Oh my! This would look amazing on you!"

Sofia holds up a red and black velvet dress, it looks like a dress fit for royalty.

"Oh! Sof, I, I don't know."

"Oh stop worrying about me, your know I don't look good in red. Now go put this on and show me!"

You sigh and let her push you into the dressing room. You try on the dress and twirl in front of the full body mirror in the room. You... Look stunning. You hear intensive knocking on the door.

"Hey, get out here and lemme see how it looks!"

You sigh and chuckle her eagerness, then walked out of the dressing room, giving a small twirl to show off the dress.

"Well?" She was silent for a few seconds.

"...well? It's fantastic! You're getting this one! Now, help me choose a dress!"

"Of course, Sof. Just let me change first."

"I'll wait for you then."

You change and start helping your friend. You soon found the perfect dress for her, which she said was, 'The prettiest dress I've ever seen!' But, you know she's just bluffing, she has always been the dramatic type. You sigh and chuckle, following her too the cashier to check out both of your dresses.

After searching the mask store for a while you managed to find a beautiful, classy, red and black mask to go with your dress. Sofia has also found a sparkly mask to go with hers. You both chatted for a short while before parting ways.

When you got back home, you marked the day of the masquerade and placed the clothing away. This would be a perfect break from your boring routine...

Or would it?

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

Butch is sleeping in today... Or he would be if Noir haven't dragged him up. He grumbled.

"come on! ya know 'ow late i worked last night!"

"This Is Important Lazybones! You Have To Get A Decent Suit Tailored Asap!"

"*yawn* why?"

"You Are Going To A Masquerade Ball. We Have Business With The Hotel Owner."

"*sighs* *grumbles* alright, fine."

He begrudgingly went to the tailor and got his measurements. Then Noir dragged him to a mask store to get a 'suitable' mask... Which basically means Noir picked one for him.

When they finally got back, Butch just flopped on his bed and dozed off. This would be another boring, pesky business trip...

Or would it be something more?

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

On the day of the ball, you dressed up in the stunning dress and mask you got via Sofia, did your hair to compliment your dress, and put on some red heels to finish the look. You have decided against make up as no one can see it under your mask. Sofia said she wanted to arrive at the ball with you, so she would be here in three, two, o-

*knock knock*

Bingo. You open the door to see Sofia practically bouncing with excitement.

"OMG! (Y/N), you wouldn't Believe how excited I am! Are you done?! Come on!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, Sof. Just let me grab my hand bag."

You grab your hand bag and went to the exquisite, grand masquerade ball with Sofia. She excitedly told you all the details of the ball, and from what you gathered, you think this'll be a delightful evening.

But you have no idea what has truly been in stored for you.

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

It's the day of the ball, and Butch is, well, being his usual grumpy self. Putting on the freshly tailored suit and the well-picked mask along with a pair of freshly polished leather shoes, he went to attend the ball.

Thinking of the business meeting with the owner made him annoyed about actually attending and participating in it.

But, he didn't know that someone would change his mind.

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

The ball is in full swing. Everyone was dancing, laughing, and enjoying the grand ball. You have just finished a few dances, and feeling a bit parched. So you, along with an equally tired Sofia, went over to the food tables for a nice snack break.

"That was *pant* Amazing! Did you have fun? *pant*"

"Ah yes, having fun dancing so much my feet are sore from being stepped on by multiple dance partners." You said sarcastically.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. How many?"

"I lost count after 10." She winced.

"Ooo... That's not good."

"Yup. I'm going to stay here for a while. You can go dance some more."

"Okay. But you rest up okay?"

"I will."

She smiles and waves at you as she went back to dance some more.

It was then that you heard the whispers

"They look like a couple."

"That dress they're wearing matches the suit he wears."

"How do they look so good in red?"

"Are they together?"

Feeling uncomfortable from all the whispers, you ducked in a dark corner hoping to leave the center of attention. It worked, but the action has got you the attention of someone.

"Hey there, beautiful." You instinctively take a step back as the stranger approached you.

"Who are you? And what do you want? I do not want to dance right now."

"Oh we're not going to dance, sweetie. We're going to have some... Fun..."

You tried to make a run for it, but he caught your wrist. You struggle to break free of his hold, but to no avail. You tried to yell for help, only for the guy to clap his hand over your mouth. This is it, you thought. You were going to get taken away by a random guy and be ruined. Tears streamed down your face as your struggles grow weaker and weaker.

Just as you thought all hope was lost, you feel the weight of your attacker leave. Your eyes shot open, and you saw the blurry form of your savior standing in front of you.

"What do ya think yer doin'?!" A baritone voice growled.

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

Butch arrived at the ball, and started hanging around to look like an ordinary party-goer. As he was chilling, he heard whispers.

"That suit looks exquisite."

"It matches the dress the dress that person's wearing."

"Do you think they're a thing?"

"It sure looks so."

He feels his anger creep up in him, but was interrupted by a man tapping his shoulder.

"Sir, the owner would like to speak with you."

He groaned internally and followed the man. He will be out of here after business is done anyway. No reason to stay right? He thought.

After a bit, the business is done, and Butch finished what he came for. He grumbled a bit as he emerged from a dark corner in order not to attract unwanted attention. Just as he was going to leave, his eyelights caught a glimpse of red... And that's when he saw them... A beautiful person wearing an elegant black and red dress with a matching mask... Who is also being assaulted by a scumbag...

He's snapped back to reality at that, and immediately used his magic to drag the guy away from them. Anger bubbling up in him, he growled.

"What do ya think yer doin'?!"

"I-I was just taking my p-partner-"

"bullshit! they were struggling!"

"I-I'm s-sorry-"

"shut up. i'll deal with ya later." He uses his magic to bound him and threw him to the side, not wanting to alert anyone else.

Turning back to the person assaulted, he kneels down and touches their cheek.

"you okay, doll?"

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

You whimpered, and threw yourself at the stranger that saved you, sobbing.

"whoa, whoa. hey, it's okay. it's over now. yer a'right now, doll. shh..."

The guy held you in his arms, gently rocking you. Slowly, you calmed down, and pulled away to look at him.

"You, you saved me." His eyelights widen, and you tilt your head curiously.

"What? Is there something wrong?" He didn't reply, instead, he pulled up his sleeves and showed you his wrist-bone? Your eyes widened as you read the tattoo.

'You, you saved me.'

You flipped your own wrist to reveal yours.

'you okay, doll?'

You stared at each other with wonder.

"w-we're-"

"-Soulmates..."

You continued to stare into each other's eyes, till a noise coming from your attacker broke the both of you out of your trance.

"Ow! Why is there a glass piece here?!"

"*sigh* sorry, doll. gotta deal with this bastard first." He stands and helps you up.

"ya think ya can stand on yer own?"

"I-I think so..." He smiles.

"good. i'll be back on a sec."

His hand glows red and the guy floats up. Then, they disappeared. You blinked a few times, not knowing what happened. And just as suddenly, your savior appeared. Seeing your shocked expression, he chuckled.

"ya okay there, doll? dun worry yer pretty lil head off. it's jus' a 'shortcut'."

"H-how?"

"mmmagic." You huff, and he chuckles.

"hehe. 'ere, take my hand. let's go to somewhere quieter."

With one hand extended to you, he seems almost nervous. Is this the same guy who pulled the jerk off you? You giggle, delicately placing your hand on his. He closed his large hand around yours, and gently wraps his other arm around you, pulling you close to him. You shivered a bit as he whispered in your ear.

"hold on tight, doll."

You feel yourself being pulled into seemingly nothingness, you clutched on him, needing to feel a sense of reality. Then the both of you appeared on the balcony. You tried to pull away from him, only to feel an overwhelming dizziness and fall back into his arms.

"take it easy, doll. shortcuts can be a bit disorientin' the first few times."

You grip onto his suit, taking deep breaths to regain yourself as he cooed words in your ear, while soothingly rubbing your back.

When you finally recollected yourself, you stood back up on your feet gazing up at his eyelights.

"Thank you. For everything. But..."

"but what?"

"I haven't even gotten your name." He looks stunned for a second, before bursting out laughing.

"hahaha! y-yer right, doll. w-we... pffft... 'aven't even... ahaha!" You giggled with him at how ridiculous that is.

When you both calmed down, he took his mask off and introduced himself.

"the name's butch, doll." You smile, liking his handsome features, then took your own mask off.

"My name's (Y/N). Pleased to be saved by you."

He looks at you with stunned eyelights. His hand slowly reaching up to cradle your face.

"y-ya look... gorgeous... 'ow did i get so damn lucky?" You blush at his words, and the fact that his face is getting closer and closer to yours.

"Y-you're the one looking so dashing in that suit." His face glowed red as your said those words.

"'m only a bag o' bones... yer... yer the true diamond, doll. can i...?"

His breath lands on your lips as his thumb absentmindly smoothed over your cheek. You blush but nod and closed your eyes. You then feel a pair of lips touch yours, you questioned how a skeleton has lips in your mind, but the thought was gone as you feel yourself melting into the sweet and sensual kiss. By the time you both pulled away, the both of you are panting heavily.

"Wow..."

"wow indeed, doll." You open your mouth to ask about a skeleton with lips, but closed it as his answer would most likely be 'magic'.

Then you noticed your clothes...

"...we match."

He looks down at his clothes, then yours. And his face glows red again. You giggle.

"what's so funny?" he said with a scowl.

"Hehe. You're cute." His face glows redder.

"nah. yer the a'dork'able one 'ere, doll." He smoothly take your hand to kiss the back of it, causing you to blush.

"Hey! Pffft. No fair! You can't charm me with puns and smooth words!"

"oh. so i'm smooth an' charmin' huh?"

"H-hey! *giggles*"

After your giggles died down, you sigh and look at Butch.

"So... What now?" He smiles and puts his mask back on, extending a hand.

"we dance. i mean, we look like the ultimate power couple, might as well."

You giggle, and fix your mask back on as well, delicately placing your hand on his.

"Lead the way then."

As he led you back in, the crowd parted as if they expected the both of you. When you got to the dance floor, a slow song starts and the two of you danced. Couples looked at you two with envious eyes, bystanders whispered around you, but the two of you are too focused on each other to care.

You are with your prince charming and he has found his damsel in distress.

Nothing else matters.

There! Sorry that I'm so inactive lately. It's been quite busy... I'll be working on this series and that second story of Dance of our Souls first. But it'll be really slow as well... Sorry... Hope you liked this story!

[interstellarflare]

A Series of Unfortunate Events || Ransom Drysdale

Knives Out (2019)

-PART THREE-

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes.

Summary: Having recently been hired by Harlan Thrombey as a housekeeper, it was also your job to plan many of the extravagant family gatherings. One particular night, you meet Ransom Drysdale, who is otherwise known as the black sheep of the Thrombey family.

Despite your game of hard-to-get, one manages to end up in the arms of your pursuer via a series of unfortunate events.

Ransom smiled awkwardly stepping passed you into the bathroom with a small sigh. You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you pressed your lips into a thin line. Ransom turned, extending his sweater towards you. “I thought you might want this, if you’re going back downstairs you might want to put it on” he spoke kindly, raising an eyebrow as he waited for your response.

You stared at him wide-eyed, mouth falling agape in shock. You suddenly felt cold, hugging your arms closer to your body. “I can’t, it’s your sweater-” “I honestly don’t care...” Ransom interrupted quickly, shrugging his shoulders casually “besides, you need it more than me right now”. With a grateful smile, you gingerly took the sweater from his hand, before immediately throwing it on. It was oversized, of course, but it felt warm and snug. It smelt like his cologne, mixed with a hint of leather and pine, altogether a somewhat comforting scent. You rolled up the sleeves to your elbows, burying your head in your hands to hide your flushed cheeks once again. “I’m sorry for bumping into you...” you began, now brushing the messy and champagne-covered ends of your hair away from your face “I was trying to-”

“Has my father done this to you before?” Ransom suddenly questioned, tilting his head the side as his eyes met your own, as he leaned back against the bathroom sink with his arms braced on either side. You suddenly felt nervous, unsure of how to answer his question. Slowly, you nodded, causing a sharp hiss of anger to leave Ransom. “Yes, Richard has done this before...” you began, moving back over to sit down in your original spot “but not like this. Tonight was the first time he’s tried to get handsy”. Ransom’s jaw clenched, breathing heavily through his nose. The bathroom fell into a heavy silence, leaving you feeling very, very awkward. For you, at least, tonight had been a disaster. You had never been more embarrassed in your life. At least you hadn’t spilt all of the drinks in front of the Thrombey family, that would have been a major disaster. You cleared your throat, moving to stand from your seat. “Sorry, I uh...I have to clean up the-” “I’ve already done it, don’t worry about it” Ransom interrupted again, his response taking you surprised.

You gawked at him with a bewildered expression, stopping short before sitting back down once again. “You didn’t have to do that, I made the mess” you reasoned, to which Ransom laughed. The sound of his laughter bounced off the walls, a more pleasant sound than the cackling that drifted upward from downstairs. “I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress, and besides, it wasn’t your fault that you spilt everything”. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, your embarrassment from earlier suddenly becoming the less prominent feeling. Ransom folded his arms over his chest, looking over your form with a soft expression. “You don’t have to stay here in the bathroom with me, you know” “I need something better to do other than argue with my family, so spending the night in a bathroom isn’t the worst of ideas”. The both of you laughed, before engaging in random and small conversations.

Ransom was an absolute delight. He was nice, kind, overall a true gentleman. He explained that when he was in front of his family, they got on his nerves to the extent where they had branded him as the family arsehole. They pestered him, they laughed at him, they always said he wasn’t good enough. Out of his entire family, it was Harlan that still believed in him. Even though his grandfather always hassled him to take more responsibility for himself, Ransom was glad that someone actually cared. “Harlan always talks about you...” You spoke softly, a warm smile gracing your lips “he wishes you would stop by more often, you now? He see’s enough of Linda and Walt and everyone else, he misses you”. A small smile formed on Ransom’s face, his dazzling blue eyes meeting your own (eye/colour) hues with a deep chuckle. He moved from the bathroom sink, and dawdled over to the window on the other side of the room. “He’s always such a kind old bastard...” He joked, leaning against the windowsill “I wish I could see him more often, but every time I stop by, someone else is always here and it just turns into one big argument”.

You nodded, humming in agreement “Yeah, to be honest and I mean no offence, but your family is kind of...dysfunctional”. Ransom snorted as he laughed, nodding his head in agreement. “You’re not wrong...” he mumbled, “you’ve only worked for Harlan a few months, so I suppose you’ve seen everything this family has to offer”. You nodded, humming lowly as you grinned “Uh huh, I had an interview for the job as housekeeper, and was basically interrogated by you mother and Walt to make sure that I was the right person for the job” You told him, shuddering at the memory as you remembered all of the weird questions they had asked you. It had started off as any normal job interview, and descended from there when they began to argue with each other. “When did you start thinking that this family was dysfunctional?” Ransom questioned, to which you responded “About the time when I planned one of these parties a few months ago and it turned into a loud screaming match between your mother, Walt and Joni about providing money for Meg’s education”.

As the two of you laughed, there was a harsh knock at the bathroom door. You and Ransom fell silent, as a small voice called out from the other side. “Y/n, are you in there? I saw you head upstairs, is everything alright?”. It was Meg. You turned towards Ransom, hoping he would say something, but he just shrugged his shoulders. You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze towards the door. “I’m fine, Meg. I just spilt something on my shirt and I’m trying to clean it up-” “Did you need a hand? I have an extra sweater in my mum’s car you can borrow” She continued, her tone of voice becoming more and more concerned. Before you could respond, Ransom cleared his throat. He moved towards the door in a few swift strides, throwing it open with a sarcastic grin. “Everything is fine, Meg. We’re just talking...” he mused lowly, to which Meg’s expression turned skeptical. I could see her through the doorway, staring up at Ransom with a small glare. Her gaze flickered between the both you, raising an eyebrow as a small challenge. “I didn’t know you were in here...” she mused lowly, “what are you doing?”. “He was helping me dry off!” You mused loudly, perhaps a little too loudly as you joined Ransom by the door, giving Meg an apologetic smile “I may have spilt several glass of champagne all over my shirt and I needed some help cleaning it up”. Meg nodded slowly, her eyes widening as she noticed Ransom’s sweater covering the majority of your form.

“Okay...well...Harlan was looking for you. Marta is downstairs, she has a present for you” she explained, her skeptical expression turning into an amused grin. You groaned “Another one? She does know my birthday isn’t until next Thursday, right?”. She laughed, ignoring Ransom as she stepped forward and looped her arm around your shoulders “Oh she does, but she doesn’t care. She’s just happy that she has someone else to talk to that is around her age here”. As Meg led you downstairs, you heard Ransom’s footsteps following close behind, remaining silent for the entire duration. Marta met you at the bottom of the stairs, smiling brightly as she enveloped you in a tight hug. “Marta, you need to stop with the presents...” you teased “it’s not my birthday yet”. “I know, but I couldn’t help it. I saw something today that I knew you would love” she exclaimed, taking your hand and leading you back into the kitchen.

You stopped short, remembering the mess of the shattered glass and champagne that had been left on the floor, but found that there was one. Ransom had cleaned it up, and you couldn’t stop the warm feeling forming in your chest. There was a large white box sitting on the kitchen bench, tied with a gold ribbon. Anxiously, you carefully removed the ribbon and opened the box, gasping in delight. It was a beautiful crimson lace dress, with thin spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline. “It’s beautiful...” you mused dreamily, lifting it out of the box slightly to examine it “You didn’t have to get me this”. Marta waved her hand dismissively, laughing in amusement “You’re my best friend Y/n, you deserve the best” she responded, smiling brightly as you enveloped her in another hug.

“Oh! and I forgot, Harlan wants you to take the rest of the night off. He said that you’ve done enough” she continued, before disappearing back into the living room with the rest of the Thrombey family. You smiled, gawking at the dress with great admiration. In the short time that you had known Marta, she had come to know you well. Often, the two fo you would talk about your lives whenever you weren’t needed by Harlan, or by anyone else around the house. You ran the tips of your fingers over the delicate lace, completely oblivious to the prying eyes coming from an obscured corner of the living room.

There was something about you that Ransom just found so damn interesting. You were too kind, and too compassionate for your own good. You were certainly a kind soul, too kind a soul to be cooped up with the Thrombey family. But his grandfather adored you. Harlan spoke of you often, always saying ‘You must come meet my new housekeeper, Y/n. She’s such a delight, I think you would like her’. Ransom smiled faintly, remembering the conversation with Harlan only last night. And after seeing you cornered by his father, and practically frightened, Ransom was beyond furious. After Harlan offered to let you stay the night, and after you disappeared into one of the upstairs guest rooms, Ransom’s glare never left his father’s form. And he knew it. He could feel Ransom’s glare burning holes into his skull, a feeling Ransom enjoyed thoroughly. 

[lifeofroos]

Part 66. Nico calls his far away cousin. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In the previous chapter, Nico did research on the relatives from his mothers’ side. In this chapter, he calls one of them. The story is also on AO3 and on FanFiction.net and in Tumblr Tags like Nico di angelo, will solace, Pjo etc. 

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 66: The New Rome Special

A week later we all got together at a café in New Rome. We had found the names of my relatives. Now it was time to let them know I existed.  

I took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’

Pollux reached into his bag and got out his smartphone and a pink note, which he carefully put on the table. ‘I got the numbers.’

‘Yeah, you told us,’ Will answered. 

Hazel looked excited. ‘Let’s do it! And come on, Will, liven up a little...’

‘I just want to know where he got the numbers.’

Pollux grinned. ‘Just accept that I did, doc.’

‘Don’t act all innocent, I saw you hanging around the black books in the camp library...’

‘How long do you want to keep this going? Nico over here is nervous.’

I looked up at Pollux. ‘Am not.’

‘Sure are.’

‘And how would you know?’

‘Usually I would try to convince you all that I know everyone’s emotions at all times due to my stellar status as a Dionysus kid, but that isn’t true. I can just see it on your face.’

I peered at Hazel and Will, who slowly nodded. 

I quickly looked back at the phone. ‘Well... give me the number, then.’

Pollux handed me the note. ‘I thought you would probably want to talk to Sofia di Angelo. She is the oldest of the three sisters.’

Hazel looked over my shoulder. ‘She is twenty. That is about our age, but just old enough to be independent.’

‘Exactly.’ Pollux nodded. 

Even Will seemed impressed. ‘You thought up a whole plan.’

‘Of course, doc.’ 

I put down the note and took a deep breath. ‘As a matter of fact, poisoneye, I am indeed nervous,’ I told Pollux. 

‘Understandable.’

I reached for the phone. Carefully I pushed the right buttons. Hazel sighed. ‘It’s a long number. Longer than most numbers in America, I think.’

‘It sure is.’ 

My finger hovered over the green ‘call’ button. ‘Okay, okay, okay.’

‘If it ends up being a disaster, we’ll let the mist do its work,’ Will said soothingly. 

‘I know,’ I muttered. Still, my body was filled with anxiety. I really was going to call some far away cousin. 

I bit my lip and took a sip of my drink: the New Rome’s chocolate milk Special, extra strong (which just meant they added cafeïne. Perhaps it wasn’t the best for my anxiety).

I looked up. Pollux stared right back at me. One look at his face and I knew he would push the button if I didn’t hurry up soon. 

I pushed the button and he let out a sigh. ‘Finally.’

‘Cut me some slack.’

‘I already am.’

‘Anyway!’ Will pointed at the mobile phone. It was ringing, which meant it was actually calling someone. 

The person, this distantly related woman, had the gall to actually pick up. Wait. Stop.

‘Ciao, stai parlando con Sofia di Angelo?’

I opened my mouth. ‘...eh…’

‘Ciao?’ 

‘You’re speaking to Nico di Angelo,’ Pollux said for me. Will rubbed my shoulder. 

‘...yes, yes you are,’ I added.

‘Is this a prank?’ She asked, in English. 

‘I can promise you it isn’t. ‘My name really is Nico di Angelo, and… eh…’ That she hadn’t hung up the phone yet seemed like a miracle.

‘The last Nico we had in the family was a nephew of my great-grandaunt.’ Her what? I mean, that was probably right. 

‘Well, and me. I live in America. My… great-grandmother first came here, I was... named after this nephew of hers, who was my... grandfather. I was curious about my Italian family. I did some research, found your number in the online phone book…’ I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. ‘Whole story.’

It was quiet on the other side. ‘Why are you calling now?’

‘I… I wanted to get in touch with my relatives,’ I answered. ‘Also, you speak good English,’ I blurted out. 

She chuckled. ‘You too, if you are really a di Angelo.’ 

‘I lived in America for most off… for my entire life.’

Another thinking pause. ‘You said you’re great-grandmother went to America. I know that I have a relative who did so. She fled after Mussolino came to power.’

Hazel grabbed my hand. It was suspiciously quiet around me. 

‘Eh, yeah, that is right.’ 

‘Unbelievable.’ Sofia sighed. ‘Do you mind if I call you back after I told my family? You…’ It was quiet for a moment. ‘You know too much to be a prankster. Only my relatives know of this and nobody dares to joke about it, because my great-grandmother doesn’t like it.’ She snickered. ‘She knew your great-grandmother. Only shortly, she was five when she disappeared. You might have heard that.’

‘Ah.’ I was too stunned to say anything else. ‘I… I am just…’

It was silent for a moment. ‘Can I reach you via this number?’ Sofia asked. 

I looked at Pollux. He slowly nodded. ‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘You can reach me on this number.’

‘I will call you back, then. Addio, Nico.’

‘Yes, goodbye.’ 

After a few seconds, she hung up the phone. My heart was beating right out of my chest. Slowly, I turned my head around, until I was facing Will. I took a deep breath and began to laugh. ‘I just…’

‘You just confiscated my phone,’ Pollux said, unbelieving. ‘Still, I…’

‘Wow,’ Hazel whispered. 

I moved forward to hug her. ‘Isn’t it great?’ 

Will softly cheered. ‘You’re in contact with your family, Nico!’

‘With my relatives,’ I muttered. ‘You’re my family.’ I put my arm around Will, too. After a few seconds, Pollux sighed and moved over to us. We let him join in. He was family too, after all. 

A/N: Headcanon that the general swear word for the Dionysus kids is ‘poison eye’ or something else that references their Very Purple Eyes. Also headcanon that all Dionysus kids have purple eyes, making it easy to see which cabin they belong to. 

[mayaree-darling]

Things Left Unsaid (Giyuu x OC) (RQ)

Pairing: Giyuu x Kannu (OC)

Synopsis: Giyuu is full of things he doesn’t say to people. Unfortunately, what comes out this time are things he didn’t mean to say.

From Ari: I hope you like this, @angxlsatvrn​ <3 I’m a  bit rusty with writing Giyuu, but I hope this is okay. Sorry this took a while. I feel like I forgot how to write hahah This is gonna have a bit of a different feel to it, too, because I wrote it in Giyuu’s POV nyehehe

Fic Length: One Shot (3.4k~)

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

There are a lot of things you could possibly say about Giyuu Tomioka, depending mostly on how you saw him. He’s cold (on the outside) and frank and stoic and so oblivious it makes people physically cringe to see him miss a simple point and not be aware.

Giyuu was a man of few words, it was common knowledge in the Demon Slayer Corps, and to people he talked to in the daily. He just didn’t talk much if he didn’t have to. Didn’t look for a conversation, either.

People knew quiet Giyuu. Unless, of course, they’re meeting him for the first time.

“I’m Kannu. Please take care of me.”

Giyuu blinked, staring blankly at the top of the female’s head as she bowed deeply. He’s heard the Pillars be introduced to him via Ubuyashiki in the past, or maybe like 5 minutes before a mission if he happened to be paired up with them.

Take care of me? Is that what people said these days? He only just met her, so why should he? Or maybe he’s referring to the mission? In that case, wasn’t that a given? She was his partner for her first mission as a Pillar, after all. They were supposed to work together, even if Giyuu wasn’t too keen on that idea.

“Giyuu Tomioka.” he gives her a curt nod before continuing on his way to their next mission. People would’ve given up at that point, called him an asshole who thought he was all that (like Shinazugawa). Couldn’t spare people more than his name and a cold glance.

Giyuu’s more confused than surprised when he catches a flash of dark brown at the corner of his eyes before Kannu’s face is grinning up at him. Despite his quick pace, Kannu seemed to be keeping up just fine.

“Nice to meet you, Giyuu! Hope we get along well.” Maybe if Giyuu didn’t look she’d get the idea that he didn’t really wanna talk and leave him alone. It wasn’t that hard to pretend he couldn’t see her since she was a full head shorter than he was. He just kept looking ahead. Should he correct her that it was a bit disrespectful to refer to someone’s first name? He didn’t particularly mind, so maybe he shouldn’t. Yeah, he shouldn’t. “So what breathing style do you use?”

When he doesn’t respond right away, or in the next minute or so, Giyuu thought that was it. But he stops abruptly in his tracks when he feels a jab at his side and begrudgingly turns to face mirthful brown eyes.

Giyuu stares Kannu down, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. A sigh escapes his lips. It was obvious she wasn’t going to budge anytime soon. He turned to the setting sun before sighing again. Maybe a couple of minutes of talk wouldn’t hurt? They’d have to hunt the demon soon, anyway.

“Water Breathing.” the words come out a strangled mumble, unused to talking.

“Ooh, cool! That’s good to know.” Kannu resumes walking, a slightly slower pace this time. Giyuu doesn’t miss the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead, deciding to keep pace with her. Guess keeping up with him was more of a chore than he thought. “Hope you didn’t mind me asking. I just wanted to make sure I could keep up with you during battle, is all.”

It wasn’t as painful as having to talk with Shinobu. Manageable, if anything. Giyuu clears his throat. “What about you?”

Kannu turns back to him, an impossibly brighter smile on her lips. Was it because he was responding? Maybe he shouldn’t have answered her after all. “Night Breathing.”

Night? Giyuu hasn’t heard that before. His confusion may have been written all over his face because he hears Kannu giggle. Giyuu has half a mind to pick up the pace and leave her again to catch up to him.

“It’s actually just a mix of Water and Wind Breathing my master helped me devise a while back.” Kannu explains.

Giyuu nods slowly. Now what? What else did people talk about? What else was there to say? That should be about it, right? If Kannu said anything else, he wouldn’t know what to reply with, not to mention he probably didn’t have the energy left to respond anyway.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Giyuu turns to Kannu, his face a deadpan.

“Was it that obvious?” Kannu grins in reply and looks back ahead.

Thankfully enough, dusk was setting in and they were arriving in the small village. As Giyuu expected, the conversation died down to a silence as they both kept their guards up.

Giyuu wasn’t expecting much when he heard about Night Breathing. After all, Kannu said it was similar to Water and Wind anyway, so it could have just looked similar. However it still caught him off guard when his vision suddenly darkened.

“Giyuu!” Ducking at the alarm in Kannu’s voice, Giyuu side-stepped in time, a demon slashing at the space where he just stood moments before.

“Night Breathing, First Form: Twilight Reaping.” Kannu slashed hard, her katana leaving behind a wave of black light in its wake, sharp as her blade and cold as the night air. It missed both Giyuu and the demon by mere inches, but even Giyuu could tell that had it clipped him, it would have hurt more than it looked.

“Watch where you’re swinging.” Giyuu breathed in, summoning a wave as he unsheathed his own katana.

“Sorry.” the laugh that escapes Kannu’s lips doesn’t annoy him as much as he thought it would. But he keeps the thought to himself.

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

There’s a bad taste in Giyuu’s mouth that leaves him annoyed from the moment he woke up. Everything seemed to put him on edge, pissing him off more than he’d care to admit. The sun was a little too bright. The townsfolk were a little too loud as he passed by the markets. He knew it was unbecoming of him, just a bad day, is all, but he couldn’t help the anger and annoyance that rose like bile up his throat. So he kept his mouth shut, trying to ride out the anger for the day. Maybe take it out on his next mission.

“Good morning, Giyuu!” Giyuu wanted to kick himself for stopping, but it was an almost instantaneous reaction.

Ever since Kannu had decided it was okay to talk to him despite the curt responses (and Giyuu had put off time and time again to tell her that he didn’t like talking) it was practically routine for her to greet him every time they came across each other before going on their missions. Ubuyashiki had insisted that Giyuu or some other Pillar would look after Kannu in her missions for a month or so, just to make sure she got used to her new responsibilities and new coworkers. Giyuu happened to be paired up with her more so often than not, so he was familiar with her company.

So even when he was boiling with misplaced anger and unreasonable annoyance, his body willed him to stop at the sound of Kannu’s voice. He watched as she bowed to the innkeeper and ran over to him, smiling brightly as ever. Giyuu bit down the urge to make a remark about her smile and how it kept putting him on edge. He settles to giving her a curt nod, before he’s already walking, praying to whatever god that could hear him for patience.

“Listen to this, Giyuu. So remember how I went with Shinobu on her last mission? Well, while we were out, I-”

Giyuu forced himself to drown out Kannu’s voice as she told him her adventures in exciting detail. It wasn’t her fault, Giyuu knew that. He was practically screaming at himself to remain calm, if only for her sake.

“-and then she said-”

Giyuu closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he tried to focus on the surrounding forest. But everything else seemed to put him on edge just the same. The cicadas were too loud. The rustling trees were too loud. The sun’s rays were too hot. His ponytail scratching at the back of his neck was too itchy.

He really did try.

“So I- Giyuu? Are you okay?” Giyuu didn’t even notice they had stopped walking until he had rounded to face Kannu, her worried expression dropping almost immediately at the blazing look on Giyuu’s face.

“Stop.” Giyuu grit his teeth, a last ditch effort to will his anger down. But it was useless. If there was any part of him left to calm down, it would have caught the way Kannu stepped away from him the tiniest bit.

“Giyuu, what’s wro-”

“Stop. Just stop.” he ran a hand down his face, an aggravated sigh leaving his lips. “You’re becoming annoying. Your talking is annoying. Just stop, alright?”

Behind his closed eyelids, Giyuu sighed in relief at the silence that followed. Finally, some peace.

But whatever peace he felt disappeared quicker than it appeared and panic set in. Why wasn’t Kannu saying anything?

He opened his eyes to see Kannu staring at him, brown eyes glassy. Giyuu blanched, heart hammering in his chest. What did he say?

“Oh, sorry, Giyuu. I…” Giyuu watched as Kannu swallowed the lump in her throat, her lips twisting up into a wobbly smile. Despite her attempts, though, the smile kept falling. Giyuu hardly felt himself raise his hand, but he stopped, not quite sure what to do, or if he should do anything. Could he even do anything? “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I’m sorry.”

Just say sorry. All the anger he had felt earlier had dispersed as easily as morning mist, and the feeling left him all the more cold. It was his problem. He was the one at fault. He was the one who took his anger out on her. All he had to do was say sorry.

But the words got stuck on his throat.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Kannu voice was as strangled as Giyuu’s, if not more, and Giyuu wondered how she was able to talk in such a state. It made him feel all the more awful. Just say something. “I’ll… I’ll stop now.”

“No, Kannu, wait I-” the words lodged themselves in Giyuu’s throat again, but it didn’t matter. His voice was so quiet that Kannu didn’t hear him. She slowly walked away from him, heading on forward to their destination alone, if only to get away from him maybe.

Giyuu hadn’t set a foot forward before Kannu’s crow landed on her shoulder. He hardly heard it tell her that she was being sent as back up to another mission while Giyuu was going to finish the one they originally had. Kannu had muttered a soft “be careful” to him before she was running in the direction where they came.

Giyuu stood in the blistering heat, feeling a resounding chill go up and down his spine. His stomach did flips and he wanted to hurl. He couldn’t breathe right.

There’s a bad taste in Giyuu’s mouth, leftover by the unspoken apology at the tip of his tongue.

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

Giyuu sat in the garden of the Ubuyashiki Estate, waiting for his next assignment and for a certain dark haired female to come back from her mission. He tapped his sword on his leg in impatience, not sure if he wants time to move faster or slower when he turns to the entrance and sees no one. He tried training to pass the time, but the training dummy he had set up was weak to Giyuu’s anxieties and lay in pieces by his feet.

Just apologize when she comes back. It’s that simple, Giyuu frowned at the ground as he absentmindedly kept tapping, sure that if he stopped for a moment, his hands would be shaking. But how do I apologize? “Sorry for saying you were annoying. You’re not annoying. You… always talk like you have so many stories worth telling. And I’d listen to all of them if you’d let me.” No, that sounds stupid.

He taps on his leg faster. Should he get some flowers? People like flowers, right? Although, Kannu would probably think it weird for someone like Giyuu to bring her flowers. He wasn’t that kind of guy anyway, and who in their right mind would accept flowers from someone like him?

Kannu probably would, Giyuu stops tapping, frowning harder. If I didn’t just hurt her feelings.

“If you keep doing that you’ll cut your leg, even with the blade sheathed.” Giyuu flinched. The voice was female, but higher in pitch and even higher in sarcasm. “And I don’t really want to go through the hassle of healing you, Tomioka. So can I ask you not to be air-headed for once?”

“What are you doing here, Shinobu,” Giyuu stood up, ready to leave if the Insect Pillar thought about pestering him. He glanced at the doorway, expecting brown eyes and a constant smile, but it was as empty as it had been before Shinobu walked through.

Shinobu stared at him and Giyuu almost couldn’t hold off looking away first. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead her smile drops.

“Kannu’s in the Butterfly Estate.”

Giyuu’s heart plummeted, hammering in his chest all the way down. He sees Kannu’s face the last he’d seen it - crestfallen, eyes glassy with tears, and a smile that couldn’t be held in place after what he said - and he wonders if that’s the last memory he was going to have with her.

He moves past Shinobu in a rush, ignoring her when she tries to say something else, hurrying over to the Butterfly Estate. In between praying he’d make it to a conscious Kannu over and over, he thought of all the things he didn’t get to say.

Sorry for what I said. Please forgive me.

Please tell me all the stories you want.

I feel like I have a friend again.

It makes me happy that you think I’m worth talking to.

So please be okay.

When Giyuu stopped in front of the Butterfly Estate, his heart was in his throat, practically choking him. Did he stop his total concentration breathing during his run? Whatever, that didn’t matter right now.

Right now, he-

“Giyuu?”

Giyuu’s vision was swimming from running so fast and his sudden change of breathing, but he was sure he wasn’t imagining things. He turned to the doorway and found Kannu, standing in shock. She wore her haori and uniform right as ever, not a single bandage in place. There was a small bruise on her head, but from what Giyuu could see, it wasn’t that bad. She was fine.

“My, my, you certainly ran fast.” Giyuu doesn’t look away from Kannu’s shocked eyes, but he hears Shinobu’s footsteps coming in close. “I was going to tell you that Kannu was here after taking a break from our mission, but you left so quickly I guess you didn’t hear me.”

Shinobu passes by Kannu and gives her a small pat on the back, sending Giyuu a knowing smile and she was gone. It was Kannu and Giyuu again.

“Uh, Giyuu, what’s wrong? What was Shinobu saying…?” Kannu’s voice trailed off as Giyuu shortened the distance between them in a few quick strides. He didn’t appear to be hearing her.

Giyuu checked again for any sign of an injury. He held her by the shoulders and turned her from side to side. When he still saw nothing. He sighed in relief.

“You’re okay, right?” he mumbled quietly, staring her straight in the eyes.

“Uh, yeah? What are you-” hearing her words, Giyuu didn’t think before throwing his arms around her and pulling her in for a hug.

Warm, he hugged her tighter, calm breathing. She’s fine.

“Um, Giyuu???” Giyuu snapped out of his thoughts long enough to pull away at arm’s reach. He took in the shocked look on her face and let his arms fall. Was she bothered that he hugged her?

He turned back to the inside of the Butterfly Estate. Maybe she was embarrassed that someone mighty see? Giyuu grabbed Kannu’s wrist and pulled her into a secluded area close to the estate, hidden by trees.

“Giyuu, are you… okay?” Him? Why was she asking him? He’s the one who was almost scared out of his wits thinking she got hurt.

“Shinobu said you were here, and I thought… I thought you were…” Giyuu sighed in exasperation. He shook his head and looked at Kannu’s eyes. “I’m sorry about what I said. You know. When we parted ways that day.”

“It’s okay, Giyuu,” Kannu smiled, and though Giyuu felt the weight from his shoulders ease off, he still pushed through.

“No, please, let me finish,” although he said that, Giyuu found himself looking away first and staring at the flooring. He’s barely aware that he was still holding on to Kannu’s wrist. “I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you. So I’m sorry. I can understand if you don’t forgive me, I just-”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

✨ Masterlist ✨

[self-shipyard]

"Dear Prudence" - A Self-Ship Fic

SYNOPSIS: A fic that ended up being way longer than I anticipated, Lumaca and Gh.iaccio continue to get ready for the day. Though things take a lovey-dovey turn when she accidentally leaves a kiss mark on his face and he decides to return the favor.

Word Count: 1633

CW: Mild Swearing, Suggestive Themes

The tip of the lipstick swiped heavily against Lumaca’s bottom lip, applying a generous black coat to it. She rubbed her lips together, giving the top half an even coat as well.

After a once-over in the mirror, she smiled contently at her handiwork.

A gentle knock called her attention to the door.

“Hey, Lumaca?” Ghiaccio’s voice called out to her from the other side. “Can I come in?”

She smiled.

“You can come in,” she replied.

The door opened and he walked in, giving her a small kiss on her forehead as he passed through the doorframe.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” he continued, looking directly into her eyes. “I'm here to find my cologne.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” She tapped her cheek. “I just finished putting my lipstick on.”

Ghiaccio looked down at her lips, noting the color and suddenly thinking about how he wanted those lips against his in the worst way. Though, instead of acting on it as he rationalized that it would ruin her makeup job, he tried to distract himself by carefully caressing her cheek.

“It looks good,” he said. “You know, you really make that color work.”

She blushed and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear as though she were a schoolgirl.

“Thank you," she bubbled. "I’m glad you like it so much...!”

Before she could act upon the love he made her feel, Lumaca reached over and grabbed the blue bottle of water-scented spray. “You were looking for this, right?”

“Ah, yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blush that had surfaced on his face the moment he was reminded of why he was there. “Thank you, love.”

He took the bottle from her hand and positioned his finger over the spray top. Just as he was about to spray, he looked at her and lowered his hand.

“Actually, I should do this somewhere else, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t mind it!" she insisted. "I mean, it’s not like you overdo it.”

He couldn’t help but grin a little at her unintentional setup for some sarcasm.

“Unlike Prosciutto and Formaggio?”

She laughed at his remark.

“Yeah! Exactly unlike Prosciutto and Formaggio.” Lumaca rested her chin in her hand. “It makes me wonder how they don’t get caught during missions.”

That comment made him snort.

“Prosciutto knows he can do shit like that and get away with it.” He began to lightly spray himself with the cologne. “Formaggio, on the other hand… I wonder if it’s just to distract targets. If I had a stand like Little Feet, I would do the same thing.”

“I mean, at least he can make do with what he has, right?”

“Hmm... You make a good point.” He put the spray down. “At any rate, do I smell alright?”

Taking that as a cue, she lifted her face to Ghiaccio’s hair and inhaled through her nose. The sensation of her breath grazing his skin made his skin tingle a little.

“Mmm,” she sighed contently. “That smells like the man I love!”

He smiled at her remark as he watched her lower herself back down.

Her line of sight was directly on his jawline, and the sight of it made her eyes widen and her hands hover over her mouth. A small giggle could be heard through her hands. As cute as it was to him, it also made him a little confused.

“What?”

Ghiaccio looked into the mirror to see what she noticed, and he saw it immediately; a neat, black lipstick stain had been placed gently against his jawline.

His fingers ghosted over the spot, feeling himself fall deeper in love with her the longer he stared at it.

“Sorry about that,” Lumaca giggled. “I wasn’t paying attention. Hang on, I can fix it!”

He looked down at his girlfriend, who had just then crouched to the under-the-sink cabinet. With how she reacted it suddenly dawned on him that she didn’t know what it felt like to have those love marks.

That feeling had to be shared, he decided.

While she was still looking for what he could only presume were makeup wipes, he grabbed her tube of black lipstick and quickly applied it to his lips. He had just put it back down when she had finally closed the cabinet door and stood back up with the pack of makeup wipes in hand.

He gave her a second to process his quick makeover.

To say she wasn’t pleasantly surprised and just a little bit flustered would’ve been a flat-out lie.

“Oh!” she smiled, her cheeks going red. “Baby, that looks good on y-!”

Before she could finish her sentence, Ghiaccio leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes flickered to the mirror, and she could see the big kiss mark he left there. The sight of it made her cheeks go even redder.

“There,” he said with a smirk. “Now you have one too.”

Lumaca looked back up at her boyfriend and a mischievous grin surfaced against her lips.

“Okay,” she giggled. “Mine was an accident. But I guess since you like it so much-!”

She quickly planted a kiss against his chin, leaving another mark.

“You can have another one!”

His eyes flickered between the new kiss mark via the mirror and her smiling face, and before he could even stop himself, he grinned and grabbed her by the waist.

“So that’s the game you want to play, huh?”

Lumaca made a very short attempt to escape his grasp, but before she could even think of succeeding, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the bathroom, making her wrap her arms around his shoulders instead. All the while, his lips planted kisses all over her face and she squealed in delight.

“Ahh! Gh-Ghiaccio!” She laughed. “I’ll get you for this!”

As soon as they reached their destination, which ended up being the bed, she took the opportunity to press kisses wherever she could. Luckily his coat wasn’t on just yet, so she had plenty of places she could go, like his shoulders and his neck.

Those kisses didn’t hinder him at all. In fact, it encouraged him to kiss her wherever he could, too.

“Come over here…!”

…

The sound of Formaggio’s footsteps echoed down the corridor. With one hand, he ran his fingers against his buzzcut and he looked down at the small piece of paper in his other hand. After looking at the numbers, he confirmed that he was heading in the right direction.

“Man, I hope they’re in today,” he muttered to himself. “I really need something to do.”

At last, he stopped in front of one door. Judging by the number on the face of it, he figured that this was the right place.

He inhaled softly and rapped his knuckles against the door.

“Oi!” he called out to them. “Are you guys there?”

About fifteen seconds passed and Formaggio was just thinking about leaving before he heard the sound of the door’s handle click open. Lumaca’s shorter stature was just barely visible through the crack in the door she had made.

“Hey Formaggio,” her voice quietly came from the doorway.

”Ah, hey Lumaca.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Listen, I came by to ask if you two wanted to go down to a café or something. Just to hang out.”

“Uhm,” she hesitated. “W-We might. But… you might need to give us a moment.”

It was just then that he noticed how she seemed to be shrouded in darkness. Of course, this made him feel suspicious.

“Is everything alright?” he asked and, without really thinking about it, pushed the door open despite her attempt at keeping it at just a crack. “Why’s it so dark in he-?”

Formaggio turned into a deer in headlights when she became more visible from the hallway light.

Lumaca’s face was as red as a rose under the layer of black lipstick marks coating her face. In fact, it seemed as though there wasn’t an inch of skin that didn’t have a kiss mark; her shoulders, her neck, her arms. Looking down her body, it might’ve just been his imagination or it might’ve been just the way the bottom of her shirt rode up some in the front, but he swore that he even saw some kiss marks against the lower part of her stomach.

He looked straight over her head and noticed Ghiaccio grimacing at him through the doorway of the bedroom. In the dim light of the outside corridor streaking in, Formaggio saw that his teammate was also covered in kiss marks.

How awkward.

He tried to mask the pinched and embarrassed look that came over his face by rubbing at the back of his neck and taking a step back.

“I uh,” he stammered. “Actually, I think Risotto’s calling. So, maybe another time?"

“Y-Yeah,” she murmured. “Good idea. See you later.”

She closed the door as he turned to walk away.

Just as he was about to leave the premises, he heard through the thin walls the sound of a pair of footsteps approaching the door, followed by a pair of quiet laughs. Then came the sound of the same footsteps receding, albeit slower and heavier as though they were now carrying something, and the sound of a door closing.

The thought alone of what just happened in there made him shake his head and chuckle.

“Damn,” he grinned to himself as he walked away with his hands in his pockets. “Call me a cryptozoologist.”

Before he made his descent down the stairs, he looked at the door to their apartment one last time.

“Because I just saw something I never thought I’d see.”

[lesbian-dp]

To Infinity And Beyond

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,389

Warnings: Plane sex, packing, strap-on, oral on a sex toy, changes from third to second person... it just worked out that way lol. Sex against a wall... and I think that’s it.

Request: Yes. Thanks for requesting this anon!

Summary: Blame Tony Stark

A/N: And as always, I don’t know how good this is. But I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

18+ ONLY.

Fuck you, Tony Stark.

Just... fuck you.

Of course, Natasha loved the man, like the annoying older brother that she always never wanted, and just could not get rid of.

But sometimes, just sometimes, Natasha wished she could throttle him.

She didn’t need a break.

She didn’t want a break.

The Black Widow didn’t take breaks.

But once Tony Stark got an idea into his head, there was no stopping him. No matter how much of a deadly trained assassin some may be.

No one, and I mean no one, can handle that amount of bugging.

That’s why Natasha was here. Sat in a private jet. Her bags packed, a glass of champagne in hand, and on her way to Paris for a week.

‘At least’ Tony has said. If it was entirely up to him, Natasha would be taking four to five months off, travelling the globe. Sightseeing and having fun. Not working.

But it wasn't.

So, suck on that, Tony Stark!

The offer of travelling the globe still stood, however. The last thing the billionaire said, before wishing the red-head goodbye, being that ‘the jet was always there and at the ready, for anywhere she could wish to go’.

Natasha had tried to argue with him on that. Her main defence being, that she didn't want to put the pilot out of their way, by forcing them to stay and go where she says. Even if that was their job.

The pilot.

The very same pilot that was sat in the cockpit, the door cracked open just enough for Natasha to peer through. Watching as the good looking pilot flicked switches-

‘There’s better things she could flick.’ Natasha thought. Before shaking her head, throwing those thoughts out of the jet's window. Counting the seconds before they inevitably come back again. Like that had many times before.

What it was, Natasha really didn’t know.

Maybe it was the uniform.

Maybe it was the fact that they were so fucking attractive.

Or.

It could be that Natasha could, plainly see, from the second that Tony had introduced the two. That she was packing. The outline of the thick strap showing through her black pants, as clear as day.

To Natasha at least.

Anyone, but a heavily trained assassin, going none the wiser to the pilot’s hidden toy. Natasha however? There’s not a chance in hell that, that, would slip her knowledge.

She couldn't stop thinking about it. Wanting nothing more than to be used by the pilot, on her knees with her lips wrapped around the strap. Spread open and ready to be ploughed into the jet’s bed. Hell! Even the floor- Or riding her in the pilot's seat would do... it would do very nicely...

As long as her pulsing cunt was getting the attention it so craved.

Natasha conveying the way she felt via eye-fucking the pilot, as they worked.

***

You could feel her starring at you. All the while your first meeting with the gorgeous red-head replayed in your mind, over and over again. The way her eyes glanced down to your crotch, before starring lustfully into your eyes.

It was almost like the world was working it’s magic, just to get the both of you laid.

You and Natasha knew what was going to happen.

It was only a matter of time.

Natasha gripped the white leather of her seat’s armrests, watching as you walked over, with a smirk upon your perfect face.

“Hello, Miss Romanoff. Is there anything I can get you? A refill maybe?”

Oh, yeah! That was another thing.

You were the only ones upon the aircraft.

No other staff.

Only you.

And Natasha.

Alone.

Waving off your question. Natasha decided to answer with one of her own.

“Shouldn’t you be flying the plane?”

You chuckled then, and Natasha thought she had never heard a more perfect sound. But she was still yet to hear your moans.

“Don’t worry.” You pulled Natasha from her filthy imagination. “We’re on autopilot.”

“But still. It seems unsafe.”

“Mr Stark designed and built this jet himself.”

Mr Stark. It had been a long while since she had heard someone call him that. She didn’t like it. It was all too formal. She wanted you to open up. Just to be yourself. No formalities. All in due time.

“Of course he did.” Natasha took a sip of her expensive champagne, waiting for you to continue your explanation.

“Technically, I’m not needed here. Anything a pilot can do, this jet can. I’m just a formality.”

“Oh.” Natasha placed her flute glass down, switching her crossed legs. “You’re so much more than that.”

“Am I?”

Natasha nodded. Your eyes drawing down to where her hands played with the hem of her tight dress upon, her mid-thigh.

“Care to give me a ‘such as’?” you prompted.

“You’re good company,” she spoke sultry.

You laughed, not quite catching her meaning. “We’ve hardly had a full conversation.”

“I’m a good judge of character.”

“Hmm, I’ll take your word for it.”

“How about you take something else, too?” Natasha asked, her voice loving to a more seductive drawl.

Taking a step closer, moving to grip the headrest of her seat, you looked down at her with dark lust-filled eyes, asking, “What do you have in min Miss Romanoff.”

“Natasha. Call me Natasha.”

“Okay... Natasha,” you corrected, “What do  you have in mind?”

“You know exactly what I have in mind,” she told you pointedly, as she fists one of her hands into your shirt and tie.

That was all you needed before crashing your lips together.

The kiss was hot and rough. Open-mouthed with teeth betting and tugging at kiss-swollen lips. Pure lust animated.

“I’ve been wanting this since I first saw you,” Natasha spoke into your hot, panting mouth.

You pulled away slightly. Partly to breath some cold air into your suffocating lungs, but mostly to peer down at the red-heads beautiful face better.

“Then why didn’t you do anything sooner?”

Never once did Natasha stop starring into your eyes. Not when she was unbuckling your leather belt, or unzipping your pants. Her eyes closing for only a second when she pecked you on your lips. Distracting you, as she pushed her hand into your pants, to grasp at your strap.

“I was waiting for the right time.” Natasha shrugged.

You hummed at her words, moving to brush a strand of her hair, that had fallen into her face, back behind her pierced ear. Continuing to rub the soft flesh of her ear, between your thumb and forefinger.

Natasha seemed to keen at the soft touch. Shaking her head slightly when she reminded herself of what was happening.

Bod, did you make her feel things.

Things, other than horny.

She needed this to continue. Or else she knew she’d practically keel over, into your arms, and bask in the warmth there.

Natasha needed you to fuck her.

All of the soft stuff could wait until later.

“Do you always wear this when you work?”

It was your turn to shrug. Enjoying the slight pull of Natasha tugging at the strap attached to your hips, not to mention the way that her eyes dilated more than they already were after you had licked your lips.

“Sometimes. It depends on the day.”

“Lucky me then,” Natasha whispered.

Pushing your shirt up, Natasha began leaving red lipstick marks all across your revealed skin. Her tongue coming out to taste your now tingling skin.

Every kiss Natasha delivered to your heated body, travelled down to your core. You were groaning under your breath by the time she started pushing down your pants. Continuing her way down your body, towards the toy still rocking in Natasha’s hand.

In no time at all, you were sat on the small table watching while Natasha sucked on your strap, getting it wet and ready for herself. As you sipped at the champagne from her glass.

Natasha looked up at you, with the only thing that could be described as ‘fuck-me-now!’.

“Ya ready to be on cloud nine?””What?” Natasha asked confused, still basking in the fog that came from her previous activities.

You answered Natasha by making her let out a yelp. Then an ‘oof’ as her back connected to the jets partition wall.

“I see you’re already there,” you whispered against her lips.

“Well, how could I not be?”

You smirked at her, pressing a kiss onto her lips, one that was way too short for Natasha’s liking.

Your hands ran up her legs, from where they were wrapped around your waist, venturing up her tight, ridden-up dress. Pressing your fingers against the wet fabric, resting against her core, causing Natasha to let out a strangled moan.

“Baby if you’re like this, and I’ve only just touched you,” you paused, rubbing your thumb lightly against her stolen clit, “I’m worried I might destroy you.”“

Wrapping her arms around your neck, Natasha brushed her nose against yours, before whispering, “Then fucking do it.”

In the next few seconds, Natasha’s panties were pushed to the side, and your fingers were stuffed deep inside of her.

You smirked cockily, as the red-head panted and moaned above you. Peppering kisses all across her neck, sucking and biting marks onto the milky skin there.

Natasha whimpered once you pulled your fingers out of her warm depths, making you smirk against her neck. She tugged your shirt collar closer to her body, as she ground her hips against your waist to get some form of stimulation, considering you took it away from her.

Lips brushed against yours, in a teasing way. You knew she was trying to edge you back into fucking her.

Part of you wanted to hold out on her. Make her wait. Have the dangerous Black Widow begging for you to fuck her into oblivion. But the part of you that wanted to just take her, right then and there, won out.

You pushed your slick coated fingers, into Natasha’s panting mouth. Loving the sound of her moans, all because of the taste of herself.

“Yeah you like that, baby girl?” you asked, with a devious smile, “You like how you taste?”

Natasha moaned at your words, nodding her head in confirmation as she kept sucking your fingers.

Pulling your fingers from her mouth, to mutter against her plump lips, all the while your hand travelled down her body.

“I can’t wait to get a taste for myself.” Your hand finally reached its destination, gripping around your strap. “But first, I’ve got something else I wanna do.”

“And what’s tha-” Natasha’s sentence was interrupted by her scream.

With your arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist, you steadily pushed further into the red-head, until you were fully sheathed in her.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“Fucking amazing,” she told you, before pressing her lips roughly against yours, “I may just have you keep you around,” she finished playfully.

“No restraints here.”

The wall creaked as you pounded into Natasha, against it. It bowing with every one of your thrusts.

“Fuck! Do you have any super-strength, that you didn’t tell me about?” You laughed at her words, from where you were peppering soft kisses against her neck, a stark contrast to what you were doing between her legs. Loving the sounds of her moans for you.

Leaning back slightly, you moved one of your arms up to grab at the zip of Natasha’s dress. Letting it pool down around her waist, before helping her tug it off over her head.

“No bra, huh?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow, while you walked towards the jets comfortable bed.

Natasha hummed in response, it breaking off into a full moan when you mouth clasped around one of her pert, pink nipples, tonguing at it perfectly.

Her back landed on the soft sheets, gasping out when you ripped her black lace thong from her body.

“That was very expensive you know,” she jokingly chastened.

“Well, I’m sure I can reimburse you.”

Humming again, Natasha said, “No need. Tony loaned me one of his many black cards.” She smirked, bringing her slick covered fingers up to her lips, letting them go with a small pop.

You hadn't even noticed Natasha toying with herself, but the thought of it alone made it feel like a white-hot heat had washed through you.

She tapped at her puckered lips with her wet fingers, acting as if she was deep in thought.

“But there is a way you can ake it up to me.”

Smirking at her words, you knew exactly what she was about to say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Natasha nodded. “Fuck me, Y/N. Please.”

With one smooth motion, your strap was buried inside of Natasha once again. Her cunt clenching tightly around the toy, with every one of your heavy movements.

You were fully clothed against Natasha’s naked body. The cotton felt rough against her tingly skin. It rubbing over her nipples in just the right way. The white shirt clasped between Natasha’s fingers upon your back.

It wasn’t long before Natasha was letting out streams of obscenities, it was harder to move the strap, the closer she got to orgasm. And it was downright, near impossible when she came with a scream of your name.

You panted as you laid beside her, Natasha panting just as hard.

“God,” she heaved, “I’m definitely keeping you around.”

“Well, lucky me, that Mr Stark hired me to be here for your whole trip. However long it may be.”

“Hm. Maybe I will take him up on his offer for me to travel the world for a few months.” You kissed her softly, sucking on her lower lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth, before releasing it. “So, how do you feel about a trip around the world?”

“As long as I get to rock your world...”

She laughed, you joining in not long after.

“You’re so cheesy.”

Pressing kisses into her soft cheeks, you mumbled against them, “Yeah. You like it though.” Before moving to her lips, working your tongue easily into her mouth, kissing her with vigour.

“Up for round two?” you whispered, with your eyebrows twitching up in question.

Natasha nodded and you smirked, getting back to work.

And at that moment, Natasha could think only one thing.

Thank you, Tony Stark.

[saiilorstars]

Hearts’ Limit

Current Masterlist // Masterlist of all OCs

Fandom: SVU

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x OFC

Story summary: Everyone has their limits. When she's placed at the center of a case, Emilia feels like she might just spiral. Sonny Carisi sees this & knows it, which is why he puts his best efforts to help ease her nerves during the case...but that's the only reason why. He knows his job as a detective but he also knows that Emilia explicitly trusting him shouldn't make him feel anything special. There have to be limits, boundaries, between them. Emilia has to constantly remind herself that as well because for some reason, it keeps slipping her mind whenever they’re together.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog ​ @maaaaarveeeeel ​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles​ @averyhotchner​

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Emilia Hartley.

That was the name that came up as a prime suspect in SVU's latest rape-turned-murder case. As Amanda Rollins laid out the backstory of their victim - Evelyn Korami - across a pinboard, it was easy to see who could have helped aid in the atrocious crime.

"The M.E found a strand of hair from a second female at the crime scene," the blonde detective relayed what Melinda Warner had told her and her partner, Fin. "There was no DNA match in the system and it's definitely not the victim's."

"And where exactly does this woman fit in the scenario?" Olivia Benson inquired from her team. She put on her black-rimmed glasses and studied the DMV picture they had of one of their suspects.

"Emilia Hartley was Evelyn's daughter's kindergarten teacher," Nick Amaro replied since he was one of the two who came up with the possible suspect.

"Miss Hartley and Evelyn Korami had an argument at the school two days before Evelyn's body was found," Dominick Carisi - or Sonny, as he liked to be called - explained. "Witnesses report that Evelyn had to be escorted out of the school grounds and was subsequently banned from the school after that."

"The husband had to drop off and pick up their daughter from then on," Nick said.

"Him or the nanny," Fin added since they were talking about high class families.

"Is there anything that puts Hartley at the crime scene?" Olivia asked.

"That we know of, no," Amanda answered. "But maybe if we were to talk to her we might get some clues."

Olivia pulled her glasses off and looked over to Nick and Sonny. "You two are the ones who have a hunch, go follow it."

~ 0 ~

As Nick and Sonny walked through the hallways of the elementary school where their suspect worked. They could easily tell the place was built and ran by high class people. There were colorful boards on either side of them full of different activities offered to the students, as well as reminders for any parents interested in being involved with the school. There were other decorations that were student made, presumably by the older ones. They eventually came downstairs, to room four where their suspect was meant to be.

With the door opened, they saw a petite ginger woman shuffling some kids - who couldn't be more than five years old - into a line while a tall brunette woman was directing a couple other students away from the sink.

"You've all washed your hands now get in line." She seemed a bit frustrated but neither detective could confirm via her face. She was probably trained never to show that.

"Emilia Hartley?" Nick's voice drew the attention of the entire classroom.

The brunette woman looked up from the sink and saw the two detectives through the mirror. Her thin eyebrows raised in confusion before turning to look at them. "Yes, that's me. Are you parents? I don't think we have any meetings scheduled today." But then she thought of something and quickly looked at the ginger woman. "Do we, Alice?"

"No," Alice shook her head.

"This is about Evelyn Korami," Sonny said and it was all he needed to get Emilia's understanding.

"Give me one second," she walked the last students to the end of the line. "Miss Alice will be taking you to the playground. Follow the line, please," she addressed the students and gave the nod to Alice that they could get going.

The detectives stepped to the side to allow the secondary teacher to lead the students out the door. Emilia ushered the lingering students behind then promptly closed the door after they were gone. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, you could start by telling us where you were two days ago," Nick went right to it and got quite the reaction.

Emilia's mouth fell open in utter shock. "Excuse me? This is why you're here? To tell me I'm a suspect in the murder of my student's mother? You do realize I'm a kindergarten teacher, right?"

"Last time I heard, that didn't mean anything," Nick said, making Emilia's mouth fall further in a frown. "And we found a strand of female hair at the scene as well. We're thinking it could be yours."

Emilia folded her arms over her chest. "Should I have a lawyer present, then?"

"Look," started Sonny, "We know you had an argument with Evelyn two days before she was raped and murdered…"

"And that automatically means I murdered her?"

"That's not what I was saying—"

Emilia made a gesture for him to stop talking. "You should know that Miss Korami had arguments with the school every week. Just last week she argued with another of my student's parents in the office. With me—" Emilia crossed her arms. "—she argued because she wanted her daughter Marjorie to have a spotlight birthday this Friday."

"And what was the problem with that?" asked Nick, rather curious.

"We don't do anything for birthdays here," Emilia dropped her arms to her sides. "It's our way of respecting children who come from families that don't celebrate birthdays."

"But Evelyn didn't agree?"

"She shouted at me that I was an idiot right in front of my students and other parents. I was just following the rules the school instituted. If it was up to me, any child who wanted to have a spotlight birthday would get one."

"So the fact that Evelyn did all that in front of an audience didn't bother you at all?" Sonny asked. "You didn't feel like...you had to get some revenge?"

Emilia laughed. "No, because I'm a grown woman. Evelyn Korami was a difficult woman but I like my job, and I like my life, and Evelyn was not NOT worth it. If it WAS was my hair then it's probably from when she argued with me. Are we done?"

Nick exchanged a look with Sonny, both nodding in agreement of what their next move was.

"We're going to need your whereabouts 2 nights ago," Nick said. Emilia's face instantly dropped. That action alone was suspicious.

"Problem?" asked Sonny, finding it hard not to smirk. If she was hiding something, they would have her now.

"No," Emilia answered through gritted teeth. "But I'm sure you'll have a good laugh when you see the security feed."

"Excuse me?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her. He was in the belief she was being rude to them and that was the last thing they needed when they were just doing their job.

Emilia still didn't falter even when she realized how her words came across. She wasn't in the mood to remember two nights ago and she definitely wasn't in the mood to be a suspect in a murder either. "La Bernardin," she said, her teeth still close enough to grit. "Seven to eight. And then from there, Forlini's. All the way till they closed." She pushed past them out of the classroom afterwards without a care of being arrested for her behavior.

~0~

Later that afternoon, Olivia checked in on the progress of their case only to find their one lead gone.

"Emilia Hartley's alibi checks out," Nick said, sounding a bit disappointed the rude woman wasn't guilty at all. He leaned back in his desk chair and pointed at his laptop. "She was at Le Bernardin for an hour and then Forlini's until closing."

"An hour at Least Bernardin?" Amanda raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "That's a pretty fancy restaurant. Why would she only be there for an hour?"

"She wasn't," Sonny said. "She was in there for 47 minutes." He'd finished reviewing the security feed himself and closed his laptop with quite a face. "That was a...pretty terrible date."

"If it was only 47 minutes, it had to be," Fin seemed close to laughing.

Sonny didn't see the need to laugh at such a terrible time. Now he understood what Emilia meant by her last words. If he was being honest, he felt a bit sorry for her.

The guy had been a terrible date. Who flirts with the waitress in front of their date? That was a low move. But of course the guy hadn't stopped there. It looked like he'd ordered for himself and Emilia, judging by the fact he forced Emilia's menu down and she looked beyond pissed at him for it. Being ordered - force fed - a salad while the guy gorged out on a heavy dinner was yet another low blow, not to mention plain rude.

"So she's out," Olivia started counting off her fingers. "We've got no other suspects, no other leads…until we can get a DNA on the hair."

"Maybe we could go back to the places Evelyn visited the day she died," Amanda offered.

Olivia agreed. "Do that and also go back to the school, interview anyone who knew Evelyn, anyone who had a problem with her. Someone has to know something."

The squad collectively nodded and set out to do their tasks.

~0~

By the end of the school day, Emilia was more than tired. She and Alice were doing the last cleaning for the classroom before going home.

"Alice, you can go home," Emilia told her after noticing it was almost 4 o'clock. "You have plans."

"I know, but my boyfriend doesn't get out of work until 4 anyways," she shrugged.

"Yeah but it'll take you a good fifteen minutes to get there anyways," Emilia reminded. She walked up to where Alice was working and took the Lysol bottle from her. "I got it, promise."

Alice deliberated another minute before she agreed. She headed for her cubby to get her things. Just as Emilia was setting back to work, they both heard a light knock on the door.

"Oh God," Emilia muttered and started lysoling the shelves like she wasn't being visited by two detectives. "What can I do for you now, detectives?"

"Were you leaving?" Nick noticed Alice setting her purse over her shoulder. She nodded slowly, her hand stopping over her strap. "Don't. We're going to have to talk to both of you."

"Seriously?"

"Just precautionary," said Sonny.

Emilia didn't stop cleaning. She only called out to the pair instead. "Did you see my video?"

Sonny exchanged a look with Nick, both understanding the sour tinge in her tone. "Uh, yeah," Sonny answered eventually.

"Then you both know I didn't do anything," Emilia turned her back to them as she moved onto another shelf. "That strand of hair can't be mine. My co-worker has plans, detectives, why are you making her waste her time?"

"Hey," snapped Nick, "We're trying to figure out who murdered a woman. I would think you would want that woman—especially being the mother of one of your students—to get justice."

Emilia stopped working for a second to meet Nick's gaze. "Of course I do, but neither of us—" she pointed to Alice then herself, "—know anything."

"You don't know that," Nick countered. "Let us talk to you. The quicker we do, the quicker you can each go on your way."

"I mean...if it's to find whoever did this…" Alice glanced at Emilia with a shrug of her shoulders.

With a heavy sigh, Emilia put her things down and turned around again. "Fine. What do you need to know, detectives?"

"You mentioned that Evelyn had disagreements often with the school, right?" Sonny started before Emilia changed her mind.

"Yeah, she was a...very difficult person," Emilia said quietly, her expression indicated many challenges had been thrown her way by Evelyn. "She had petty arguments with everyone. I've lost count how many times she argued with me."

"And me," Alice frowned. "Over the smallest of things too. She got upset two weeks ago because her daughter, Marjorie, fell down."

"Well, that's natural," Nick shrugged. "I have a daughter too. If she were to fall, I'd be a little upset too."

"I get it," Alice raised her hands. "It's not uncommon but Marjorie tripped over her own feet. There was only a scrape and I had the yell of a lifetime. Would you do that to your daughter's teacher?"

Nick lowered his head. Probably not. Kids were clumsy and they fell all the time.

"We don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but Evelyn makes it very hard not to," Emilia grabbed the Lysol bottle again. Alice hummed in agreement and started getting her coat from her cubby.

"Alright, stop," Sonny told them both. He sensed they were feeding off of each other's hatred for Evelyn and it wouldn't give them anything for the case. "How about we talk separately?"

Nick agreed. If they kept the two women together, all they would get were more stories of Evelyn's unkindness. He waited for Alice to gather her things then followed her out to have a conversation outside.

Emilia watched Alice disappear out the door. "She didn't do anything, you know? You need to leave us alone."

"We will when we have everything we need," promised Sonny. "But you should really just answer our questions."

"The last time I answered the question, it was an embarrassing one for me." She referenced her terrible date that, by now, she was sure the entire NYPD had a good laugh at.

"It shouldn't be because it wasn't your fault," Sonny said. "He should be embarrassed."

"Hm, please tell me you wouldn't do that to your partner."

"If I had one, I wouldn't," he promptly promised.

Emilia side-glanced him and, for the first time, smiled. It was a small one but a smile nonetheless. It was the opening Sonny needed.

"Can I ask you questions now?"

Emilia shrugged. "I suppose...but I do have to clean."

"Sounds fair," Sonny motioned her to keep cleaning. "You've made it pretty clear that Evelyn had many arguments—"

"Countless," Emilia corrected. She lysoled the next shelf and bent down to make sure she got the bottom as well.

"Is there anyone that stood out?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone who may have taken it personally. A known grudge."

"The parents? I'm not sure," Emilia straightened on her feet. She set the Lysol bottle on top of the shelf. "I've been witness to some of them but...I know these parents. I've been working here for almost two years and...I don't see any parent capable of murdering anyone."

"You usually don't see them so clearly," Sonny said. "But is there anyone that stood out lately? Parent or staff?"

Emilia thought for a moment. "Not...really, no. Well…" She shook her head. "Forget about it."

"No, no, you thought of something," Sonny pointed at her. "What is it?"

"I don't know if it's relevant."

"Let us decide that, please."

Emilia sighed and nodded. "Okay. I started working here two years ago and the reason I was hired is because the teacher before me had a physical fight with Evelyn. Now, I don't know if she's capable of doing anything homicidal but...I heard it was bad."

"Do you know the teacher's name?"

"Umm, Rachel...Rachel Quinn I believe. I don't know what led to the fight, though."

"This is really good, trust me. Is there anyone else you can think of?"

"Like I said, Evelyn had arguments with everyone," Emilia shook her head. "It's funny how different her daughter is. Marjorie? She's a total sweetheart."

"Children aren't their parents—they're their own person."

Emilia shrugged. "Yeah…" She seemed to deliberate whether or not to say something else.

Presuming it was something else about the case, Sonny prompted her to speak up. "Anything helps," he reminded her.

"It's not really...I was just...do you think it was someone from the school?" Emilia turned to face the classroom. "I have five year olds here. I can't imagine working with someone who willingly hurt one of the parents. I don't even want to consider them being around me and my students."

Sonny could feel her growing fear of the idea. He didn't want to make it worse by telling her it could be true. Because it was. They had no idea if they were looking for a staff member or a parent. "Simply be cautious."

"Easy for you to say," Emilia grabbed the Lysol bottle and headed for the cabinets over the sink. "You carry a gun. That's not to say that I would ever want to have one but...it does guarantee some type of safety, right?"

"That's not always true, you know," Sonny went after her. "But listen, I know the school's already taking precaution. You should be safe."

"Promise?" Emilia said on her way to her cubby, having no actual intention of making him promise something like that.

"Promise," Sonny had blurted before he could think about it. Once the word left his mouth, his eyes widened. Where the hell did that come from? Emilia took it, however, with a bemused smile. It helped calm his nerves.

"You usually go around making those promises? I thought that was a big no-no for detectives," she grabbed her purse from her cubby. "I have a cousin in the NYPD."

"Uuh, I don't...I didn't mean to." Sonny was being very honest. "Not that I wouldn't try to keep that promise but I-I don't...I can't control what...you know…?" Where the hell was his vocabulary going all of a sudden?

Emilia chuckled as she closed her cubby. "I don't think I got your name…"

Sonny was less inclined to give his name up after that moment. For a moment, he considered giving Nick's name instead but then the idea of having Emilia think Nick was him didn't settle with him either. He'd like for her to know him instead.

"Carisi," he finally said, only then realizing he'd stayed quiet for too long.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Emilia but I'm pretty sure you already knew that." Emilia motioned him to walk with her. "I just hope you realize now that I'm not involved with this at all."

"Yeah, got that," he followed her into the hallway. Nick and Alice were finishing up their talk.

"Please catch whoever did this, and fast if possible," Emilia turned to face him. "I really don't like the idea of coming to work where there's a possible murder/rapist."

"We'll do our best," Sonny said. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a white card for her. Emilia looked at the card, bewildered for a second until Sonny explained. "It has my number to reach me in case you remember something else or...if you get into trouble."

Emilia's eyebrows raised together. "Oh, um...thanks." She reached for the card and took it, not paying attention to the way her fingers lightly brushed with his.

"Emilia?" they heard Alice call and for some reason, it jolted both of them.

"Gotta go," Emilia said with an awkward smile. Fortunately, Sonny had the same one. Emilia moved around him to meet Alice.

"We're good, right?" Alice asked Nick before they could leave.

"Yes," he nodded and walked for Sonny.

"What's that?" Alice noted the white slip in Emilia's hand.

"Nothing, just a way to reach one of the detectives," shrugged Emilia. "Something normal."

"Mhm, so how come you're blushing?"

"Am not, it's normal."

"Right, and he's also looking at you."

"What!?" Emilia glanced over her shoulder and did indeed catch Sonny staring after her, though he quickly looked away once he realized he was caught. Emilia smiled to herself until Alice smirked. "It's nothing!"

"Then why are you smiling again?"

"I am not!"

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

A/N: I'll be honest I have no idea how this story is going to end. I foresee it as a short story (unlike my Barba x OC fic) but who knows? I just wanted some sweet (possibly angsty) Carisi moments too :))

[angelicmark]

STARS & DESTRUCTION (m)

pairing: eros!mark x bia!reader

genre: angst, smut, gods/goddesses, fluff

warnings: hand job over clothes, dirty talking. penetration. unprotected sex. riding lmao. he cums inside you btw.

eros is a god of sex, so there is explicit descriptions. bia is cruel in her own way and her thoughts are quite aggressive.

summary: so cold, so heartless; mark is unable to understand why he wants you as bad as he does. especially when you continue to torture him, letting him know just how much you hate him.

BIA: goddess of force, power, anger.

EROS: god of love, lust, sex.

you enjoyed this. you enjoyed the pain and the feeling you got seeing your opponent suffer in some way. it was exhilarating, knowing you had such power over the person in front of you who dared to cross you. it was such an amazing feeling.

your face was unreadable, “hello, angel.” your fingers danced across his skin, watching as he shivered in disgust. it made you snort, “you’re here, because?”

you waited patiently for his answer as he caught his breath, “i- i was sent to come get you, via orders from lucas.”

your brows furrow, making you scoff, “my brother, huh?”

the man in front of you only nodded his head, gulping. you just nodded, shoving him away from you and making your way to town. you could care less about anyone that wasn’t family in some way. you had no respect for anyone other than your brother at this point.

“you couldn’t have come yourself? you wanted me to scare the poor boy?” your eyes came across lucas, and he grinned in your direction.

lucas, aka kratos; god of strength. he sure was your brother alright.

“thought i was sending a present your way,” he shrugged his shoulders, making you chuckle a bit.

“what did you need?” you questioned, why in the hell he even sent the messenger.

lucas cleared his throat, “i need you.”

you raised a brow, “for once, you need your little sister?” you smirk, watching as he scoffed at your reply. lucas was always more kind hearted than you, so you were confused why he needed someone as cruel as you to do anything.

“you’re more heartless than me,” he pauses, putting papers away, “and a woman.” you were intrigued now, watching him carefully, “i want you to get mark.”

you almost choked on your spit, looking at him with huge eyes, “the fuck?” you glared at him. mark was eros, the god of love and lust. you were disgusted by the mere thought of even being near him. you had no interest in communicating with him.

“i need his union, Y/N,” he sighs, “this company isn’t going to go anywhere without him-”

you scoffed, “what? you need his good looks or something?”

“and kind heart,” he narrowed his eyes in your direction. you just smiled.

lucas was running a company for the gods and goddesses, trying to create a strong union of respect in case war was ever to break out. but it seemed lucas was struggling, because even though he was more gentle than you, he was still a god of strength, and he was still related to you.

you roll your eyes, “whatever.”

lucas makes a sound of victory as you walk out, “thank-”

“but i’m doing it my own way,” you smirk.

lucas’ blood runs cold.

as you stared at mark, you realized just how beautiful he truly was. he was almost ethereal, you were starting to wonder just how often he used that against people. but then he laughed, and you swore you just heard your favorite melody come right out his mouth.

you snort, of course. he was the god of love, someone you could never be in a million years.

you approach him, and he feels your strong energy. he makes eye contact, and you smirk. you could see the way he was looking at you; he was still the god of lust, after all, and you were still a female.

“mark,” you whisper as you reach him, and he looks at you with dark eyes, practically devouring you with his own two eyes. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention.

“yes, my love?” his voice was deep, but so soft. it was nothing you’ve heard before, and it almost made you sick to your stomach. you could feel anger bubbling up in your stomach, making your eyes a darker shade that could be mistaken as anything, especially in front of a god of lust. you see his lips twitch upwards.

you snarl in his direction, catching him off guard, “i’m not here to fuck you, mark.” your arms are crossed, and you could see the small tint of pink on his cheeks.

even if he was a god of such explicit things, he was so fucking shy. he had such energy of a boy sometimes, it would fool you that he was still a year older than you. you may be a minor goddess, but standing in front of him, you realized you could take him on any day. one look and you’re sure his dick would twitch.

“such a fucking baby boy, aren’t you?” you press a finger under his chin, making him look up at you. this was too damn easy. he lets out a soft sigh, close to a whine but no noise came out. it made you happy with his reactions.

he closes his eyes, “w- what did you want?” he steps out of your reach.

you didn’t like the thought of him stepping away from you, making you even more angry. you growled, “i didn’t say step away from me.” you tilted your head, “you just love pushing my buttons, don’t you?” you emphasize the word ‘love’, knowing damn well his position.

he adverted his gaze from you, “what do you want?” he mumbles.

you huff, letting it slide, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world to mess with him later, “i need you.” you repeat the words lucas had said to you, and you could see he was intrigued by the way his head whipped in your direction. you grinned.

“how so?” he was easing into the conversation.

you step closer, “if you don’t come with me, i’ll force you with me.” you voice was barely above a whisper as you and mark were face to face, his eyes unable to stop looking into your own dangerous eyes. “trust me when i say i have no problem with it.”

“is it lucas?” he questions, glancing down at your lips.

you lick your lips for him, “yeah.”

he squirms, wondering how you could be so tempting, even though you weren’t a goddess of temptation by any means. you were almost the opposite, chasing away every single person who even looked your way. it caught him by surprise by how badly he wanted you at this point.

as you stared at him, you wondered how many people he had been with his whole entire life. he was so elegant, so soft. it made you shiver in disgust by how gentle he was, because compared to you he was softer than velvet, and you were tougher than a rock.

you step back when you see him starting to lean forward, “you don’t seem to get my message,” you spit at him in disgust, “never in a million years would i ever want to be around someone as weak as you. i’m just simply here to bring you with me to lucas. i have no interest in you.”

he gulped, your words seemed to hurt. and you were so twisted, so hot and cold. he knew you enjoyed his pain, he knew just how cruel you were and just how much anger you held in your body. how could he be so fooled?

you were so raw, so unapologetic for your actions. sometimes he envied you and your ways, but he wondered if you ever even felt love. could you even feel an ounce of love? probably not, he thinks.

he just nods his head after a moment, and you smile at him in victory. you won this fight of power, and he knew just how much of an ego boost that was for you. but he could care less at this point. you were so intriguing, and he felt almost determined to know what went on in that mysterious mind of yours.

“good choice,” you grab his hand, leading him into your escort car.

as you both sit in the back, you could feel his eyes studying your every move. he was being very bold, and he knew he was. but he couldn’t help himself. you were something he so badly wanted to touch, but couldn’t. for once, mark was defenseless against a woman. he feared you, even.

the moment you reach lucas, his eyes turn wide as he sees mark standing right beside you. you knew lucas had his doubts, way too many of them in fact, but as he sees mark’s big bright eyes greeting him, he can only smile in delight.

“hello, mark. it’s a pleasure meeting you, finally after countless conversations on the phone,” lucas greets, holding his hand out with warmth.

mark shook his hand, wondering how in the hell he was even slightly related to you. “pleasure is all mine,” mark smiles back.

you scoff, not saying anything as you watch the two males converse. lucas can only talk minor details about where he stands right now, and mark nods his head politely.

“well,” mark clears his throat, glancing at you for a brief moment, “the least i can do is stick around.” mark smiles brightly, “considering your situation, i’ll accept.”

lucas celebrates, throwing his long arms around mark with a loud gasp of happiness. you could tell lucas was pleased as he mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ in your direction while hugging mark tightly. you just rolled your eyes, but you still had a smile on your face. yes, you were a goddess of anger, but seeing your goofy brother happy still brought you some kind of joy. you weren’t undead or completely inhumane.

“you won’t regret this, i promise.” lucas gleams as he pulls back.

mark chuckles, shaking his head softly, “can’t think i will.”

mark looks at you, eyes meeting yours. yeah, he definitely won’t regret this.

everywhere you went, mark just somehow seemed to be there. you were getting aggravated and annoyed on all kinds of different levels. the black haired boy looked at you with innocent doe eyes, and you were on the verge of screaming at him. he was having the time of his fucking life.

“i don’t know what the hell your problem is,” you rush up to mark, making the annoying boy nervous by your strong energy, “but i’m getting sick of it. everywhere i go, you’re there. it’s like you can sense wherever i am and you have to fucking follow me. jesus fuck, it’s annoying.” you sigh out, “you really need to find someone else to fuck, because i’m not going to.”

he coughs, choking on his spit, eyes wide. “w- what? holy shit, i never-”

you step close to him, your face not even a centimeter apart, “you don’t want to fuck me?”

you were so cruel. you knew he wanted to, so bad. you could practically smell his arousal a mile away. and, worst part is, he know that. he knows that you know how bad he wants you. it was embarrassing, that the god eros was craving someone so cruel, so intentionally cruel.

he only gulps, staring directly into your eyes. your eyes grew dark, and you loved the nervous look on his innocent face. he couldn’t be as innocent as he made himself out to be, there’s no way. he was the god of lust, sex, and love. there were so many more people before you, and apart of you felt sick at the idea of other people touching him that weren’t you. you were angry.

you scoffed, “you can get anyone you want. you’re a god of sex, for fuck sake. i’m nowhere near in your league.”

“what if i only wanted you?” he questioned, his head tilting as he moved even closer. you could feel his breath on your lips.

you raise a brow, “you sure love challenges, don’t you?”

he nods, eager for more of your responses, “for you? of course.” he was whispering his answers, wanting so badly to close the space between the two of you.

you back away, though, depriving him further of your touch. he only wished you would let him pleasure you, let him touch you just once. or have you touch him, how he so badly needed you, wanted you.

“you’re so easy,” you wave him off, walking away from him in a harsh manner. you were so powerful against him, he was intimidated, and yet he needed you more than anyone else. who else made him feel this way? no one. the answer was no one.

“Y/N,” he was breathless, reaching out to grab your arm.

you stopped in your tracks, feeling your whole entire body run cold at the mere touch. no one ever truly dared to touch you first, and you were starting to get pissed. you could feel your body boiling, your face heating up in anger. you yank your hand back, rushing towards him in anger. he backed against the wall, eyes wider than he’d ever had.

“you don’t fucking touch me.” you seethed, “i don’t want your filthy, dirty hands on my body, ever. you’re a disgusting excuse of a god, a fucking whore, a slut. you want my touch that fucking bad, huh?” your hand reaches down to touch his bulge in his pants, and he whimpers at the strong force.

you rub him, watching as he crumbles beneath you, “you’re so pathetic, rutting against my hand like some school boy getting touched for the first time. i thought you were the god of sex? where’s your big boy image now, baby?”

your hand squeezed tighter around him through his pants, and he yelped, his eyes fluttering close, “s-shit, fuck, Y/N..” he was out of breath, unable to keep in his noises. it all felt too much. this was the first time he ever truly felt like he was getting an out of body experience, already so close. “i- i’m gonna fucking cum, gonna cum, gonna.. cum.” he groans.

you smile, but it was a devilish smile, “already? you’re going to stain your jeans, angel. cumming all in them, begging for my touch. you gonna cum for me? me only, right?” you felt possessive of him, your hand quickening up its pace as your hand sneaks beneath his jeans and onto his boxers instead.

his breathing was uneven, his panting and moans louder than ever, “p- please, yes, only you. cum only for you.” his words barely made sense as they rolled off his sweet tongue.

“good boy,” you whisper in his ear, kissing it sweetly. you leaned back, watching as his brows furrow, his jaw tightening.

he could feel his release, coming so soon. “fuck,” he let’s out a long groan as your thumb rubs fast circles against his tip, watching as he crumbles into ecstasy. “fuck, fuck, fuck-”

he cums, his boxers not being able to hold all of it as some of it falls onto your hand. you hum, watching as he cums for you, making you feel so prideful at the sight of the older boy falling apart. he looks so spent, his hips softly rolling and riding out his high until he comes to a complete stop. his eyes are still closed, tears sweetly rolling down his cheeks.

he’s fucking spent.

you pull your hand away, looking at the cum covered fingers, “look, baby.” he opens his eyes slowly, still very hooded. “you made such a mess,” you chuckle, but quickly licking your fingers clean. he groans, feeling his knees buckle in his spot against the wall.

“don’t touch me ever again,” were your final words as you walked out, leaving him breathless, panting, and wanting more.

as days pass, mark’s eyes were still unable to stay off you. but, this time, you couldn’t blame him. you basically gave him the best hand job he was ever given, and now you’re telling him he can’t touch you? even you were starting to think you were cruel.

but you loved the desperate look in his eyes when he looked at you, practically begging you to let him have you. it made you so prideful, more than usual. and that was such a dangerous thing, in your eyes.

lucas has been keeping mark busy these past few days, torturing him even further as he was unable to constantly see you, and when he did see you it was very brief in a hallway. but his eyes would bore through your skin, making sure you knew he was there, making you feel his gaze.

“can you please quit the teasing already?” you hear a rough, hoarse voice. he sounded weak, desperate.

you turn around from where you were standing in your room, making you smile sweetly, “i’m not your problem solver now. i jacked you off, that should be enough for you. you’re lucky. don’t be so greedy.” you narrowed your eyes, enjoying the way he squirmed under your gaze.

he gulped, “what if i am greedy? what if i can’t get enough of you?”

you tick your tongue, shaking your head as you step close to him, “you’re such a needy boy, and yet you’re older than me. can you believe that?”

you were shorter than him, which made this whole situation more embarrassing for him. you tilted his head towards you, watching as his cheeks flush pink, his eyes turning glossy. you were so tempted to ruin him, watch him fall apart under your touch, and only yours.

“you’re mine, aren’t you?” you whisper, your lips just barely touching his.

he nods, fluttering his eyes close, “yes. all yours.”

just a few weeks ago, you have never imagined yourself in this position, standing so close to mark and almost kissing him on several different occasions. you despised him, but as the days passed by, you couldn’t help but grow somewhat protective over him. if mark wanted you, he had to sell his soul to you. he had to make sure he was to never look at anyone else but you for the rest of his life. he was yours. only yours to play with.

“good boy.”

you press your lips against his, and it’s way too soft for his liking. he wants you as close to him as possible, he wants to feel you. his hands stay by his side, although, unsure about touching you considering last time you told him to never touch you.

you noticed, pulling away from the slow kiss, “if you want to touch me, you can never touch another after me.” your words were so soft, but held so much power.

he shivers in the palm of your hand as you cup his cheek, “i promise, fuck, i promise.”

you lean back, watching as he looks at you with big doe eyes. he was such a sight to see, so pretty, you thought. you run your fingers through his hair, leaning back in to see the way his eyelashes flutter shut again. your lips are back on his again, but so much more rough. and he likes the feeling of having you so close.

your lips work against each other, moving so smoothly. he could feel his chest tightening more and more the longer the two of you kissed. he could feel his soul start leaving his body the more you tugged on his hair. finally gaining courage, he cautiously raises his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush against his.

your brain works on highwire, wondering just how many people he’s had like this before you. you growl in his mouth, anger and possession taking over your body. he pulls back for a breath, and your kisses trail to his jaw and neck, leaving love bites and making sure the world knew he was now claimed. he’s yours.

“such a pretty boy,” you whisper in his ear when he lets out a moan, enjoying the way your lips feel on him, “all for me.”

“only you,” he whispers back, the grip on your hips getting stronger.

you chuckle, leaning back to admire what you’d done. then your face falls, and he starts to worry. you could see the panic in his eyes as you move towards him, backing him up until he reaches the edge of your bed.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice already sounding fucked out.

“you’re mine,” you claim, pushing him down so he’s sitting on the bed. you crawl into his lap, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your ass. “no one else can have you. you were made for me, and me alone.”

you roll your hips against him, feeling his hard bulge against your clothed core. he whimpers, his hands getting tighter on you. you were truly going to be the ruin of him, he thought.

you lean up over his lap, making him eagerly try to place you back down on him, “please, don’t leave me like this, don’t-”

“i wasn’t planning on it baby,” you run your fingers through his hair again, seeing his glossy eyes staring up at you was such a powerful feeling. you were suddenly so soft with him, and he whined under you, allowing himself to fall under your power.

your hands go down to his pants, watching his reactions very closely. untying his sweatpants, you drag them down, seeing as he wasn’t wearing any underwear this time. you smirk, raising an eyebrow up at him. he looks at you with shy eyes, occasionally looking around the room as if that was more interesting than you at the moment.

“so dirty,” you hush, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “do you want me? want to fill me up with your dick and your cum? want to feel my tight walls wrapped around your dick?”

your words were so sinful, he could feel his dick twitching in the air. you chuckled again, looking down at his cock, “looks like he does.”

he nods, “please, please let me feel you. want to fuck you so bad, feel you on top of me, feel your hot heat..”

you couldn’t deny his words did something to you as you try to rub your legs together. he was so good for you, you couldn’t possibly say no now.

you get up from your spot before reaching your arms behind you and unzipping your dress smoothly. he licks his lips as he watches it fall from your body, seeing you completely naked already. you were so fucking beautiful, so soft to the touch.

“do you think you deserve it?” you tilt your head to the side in question, his eyes immediately silently begging you.

he quickly nods, “yes, please, i’ve been so good.”

you move back over his lap, your warm wet heat hovering over his dick, making him whine out a soft please again. his hands were on your hips again when you kiss him again, your tongue capturing his. you had him right where you want him, and you weren’t risking on wasting any second of this.

you rub your folds over his cock, and he lets out a low moan, unashamed of his noises. he was so noisy, a lot more than you thought. he felt so rigid and hot under you, his veins looking like they were about to pop any minute. you grinned that evil grin of yours, and he took it like a good boy. he would take whatever you gave to him.

“do you want me to ride you, baby?” you ask sweetly, adoring the way his eyes gleam under the soft light of the moon.

“please,” he nods, burying his face into your neck as you roll your hips again.

you’re silent, lifting your hips up and grabbing his cock to align him to your entrance. when the tip of his dick rubs against your walls, he whines again. you decided to end his torture, slamming your hips down against his forcefully.

“oh, fuck!” he yells out, his hands gripping your ass so tightly, you’re thinking it might leave marks. not that you mind. “so tight, you’re so tight, so warm, so wet. fuck..” he hums, biting down softly onto your shoulder.

he felt so good, filling you up so nicely. you let out a moan of your own, feeling him so close felt so good, and you felt so damn full. “so good, so full.” you let out, biting on his ear as you start to move your hips.

“fuck,” he curses, “please, keep moving, you feel so fucking good.”

and you do, raising your hips and falling back down with force. he felt like he was on cloud nine, feeling like he could do this for the rest of his life. you ride him, your walls clenching so tightly around his girth, he could easily feel himself cumming already.

“m- might cum, so close.. wanna cum in you,” he mumbles, his fingernails digging into your skin.

your own nails dig into his back as you pick up speed, “want your cum in me so bad, mark. want to feel you fill me up and watch as it drips out of my pussy. come on, baby, you can cum for me, right? you can fill me up to the brim, won’t you?”

he shudders under you, your words having such an effect on him he can feel his climax so soon, “fuck fuck fuck, gonna fucking cum, you’re gonna make me cum.”

you moan at his words, feeling your walls clench around him as well, feeling your own orgasm starting to ripple through your body, “fuck, mark. you’re gonna make me cum too, gonna make me cum all over your cock.”

that sends him tumbling over the edge, moans and groans escaping his lips very loudly as he doesn’t even try to cover them up. feeling him fill you up with his warm cum causes you to burst over, falling into his chest and breathing heavily as you whine out his name. he holds you against him, feeling your walls pulsating against his dick so deliciously as you ride out your highs.

once you’re both done, you sit there for a moment, your breathing settling down. you tug on his hair one last time before leaning back and giving him a soft kiss, praising him for how good he was.

still inside you, he looks up at you with puppy eyes, “am i really yours?”

you laugh a little, kissing his forehead, “all mine.”

you would never let him touch another person that wasn’t you. he was forever yours, and he had no problem being yours. just as much as he was yours, you were his. and you made sure everyone knew that.

he leans his forehead against yours as you finally pull him out of you, both of you gasping at the sensitivity. you lay down together, legs tangled, hearts twined together. mark changed your whole entire world, just by stepping into it.

“i love you,” he whispers.

you look at him, seeing his eyes close as he waits for a response. you smile a little, watching as his breathing starts to slow. never in a million years did you ever expect to say these next words to anyone, yet alone mark. never in a million years have you felt anything besides anger. but as you lay there with him, head on his chest and feeling his soft heartbeat. your mind floods, and your heart swells. because you have found your soul, your other half, your one and only.

“i love you, too, mark.”

and you truly meant it.

a/n: i hope the ending wasn’t too boring... lmao