#I already had to sort some of the kit so that I could finally carry it on my own

[jpasionr]

I'm slowly getting used to playing bomb rush cyberfunk and its probably one of the few things that got me through this first week for a painting class

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’ll Throw Away My Faith, Babe, Just to Keep You Safe

Part 1

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence; Blood and injury; That damn iron; Suggestive themes

Summary: “If love is what you need, a soldier I will be”

A/N: Finally, after a year. I hope it was worth the wait. I'm a little proud of it, so I hope you are too.

“Supermarkets are the worst.” You had just returned from grocery shopping, placing one bag at your feet in order to fish your keys from your pocket. Door unlocked, you went inside and placed the first bag on the countertop and returned for the next. Your fingers had just gripped the top of the bag when the old elevator dinged and two men stumbled out. 

“Still with me, dear brother?” The one with lighter hair asked in a thick Irish accent. He was all but dragging the second man against his side. Both were bleeding. You had only seen that amount of blood on a person in the movies. 

“Aye.” The man with the darker hair rasped without lifting his head. You barely heard it. 

“Hey, uh—should I call an ambulance?” You straightened, groceries all but forgotten in favor of possibly being of some assistance. 

“Kind of you, lass, but we’ll be just fine once we—” The light-haired one staggered when any aid the other offered in carrying his own weight suddenly vanished. “Murph? Murphy? Fuck!” Their trek to their own unit had come to an abrupt halt, the dark-haired one now limp as a ragdoll. 

“I’m calling an ambulance!” You had barely stepped into your door when he called after you, a frantic edge to his voice. 

“I beg you, please don’t.” He adjusted his grip on the other, still appearing as if the weight might take him down. 

“Are you, uh—are the two of you in some sort of trouble?” That was a ridiculous question.  There were bloody prints leading from the elevator, their clothes saturated, rivulets dripping onto the cheap linoleum flooring. “Just—here, come inside.” He studied you with narrowed blue eyes. You could tell a refusal sat on the tip of his tongue, but the other man coughed in a spray of crimson. 

“Damnit.” He cursed. 

You snatched up the other bag of groceries and jogged over to the countertop, depositing it roughly. You needed a blanket, towels, water, and your pitiful excuse for a first aid kit. “Blanket. Blanket, blanket, blanket.” The top of the hallway closet was difficult to reach for you, half the contents spilling out onto your head when you tugged on the quilt’s edge. 

“Let me put this on the couch. You can lay him there.” You rambled quickly in passing. The man was dragging the other with some measure of difficulty and had just crossed into the doorway as you spread out the blanket. Without really thinking, you sprinted over to drape the other arm across your shoulder and take some of the burden. 

“Thank you, lass. Heavier than he looks, my brother.”

The trek to the couch was more coordinated with your help and soon the stranger was lying prone, breaths shallow and skin pale. There was so much blood but it was alarmingly obvious that it was not all his. 

“I have a first aid kit but I’m not sure it’ll—”

“Have all we need in our own place. Start cleaning what you can see, I’ll fetch the iron and bandages.”

You blinked, your hand stilling just over the man’s shirt. “Iron? As in tablets or—?”

He shrugged, expression grim. “I’m Connor. That’s my brother Murphy.”

“I’m—” He was already gone. “I’m Y/N.” You sighed and started picking at the saturated clothing. Most of the injuries were shallow, superficial. The bullet wound to his left flank, however, was immediate cause for concern. It was not through and through.  “Okay, Murphy. It’d be nice to get some answers because my boring day just got really interesting, really fast and my head isn’t equipped for this much chaos.”

Using the scissors from the kit, you cut away his shirt and spread the two sides. A rosary hung from his neck, long enough to slide from his chest and over his arm. You didn’t remove it, that didn’t feel right. Handling it carefully, you let it hang over the couch arm. By the time Connor returned, you had wiped away most of the blood and were pressing a towel against the hole in his side. 

He placed an iron—that’s a fucking iron iron—on the coffee table with some gauze. As he drew away his hand, you noticed the blood seeping out from beneath the sleeve of his black coat, dripping from the tips of his fingers. 

“Are you hurt too?” 

“Aye, but it’ll keep. Murph first.” Connor hovered, blue eyes flitting back and forth between the saturated towel and his brother’s slack face. 

“You realize I have no idea what I’m doing, right?” You lifted the towel and winced at the thick crimson bubble that broke into a stream trickling down his side. 

“Between the two of us, we’ll have him right as rain, lass.” 

“Right.” You sighed heavily, pressing the towel against the wound once again. “I suppose the bullet needs to come out.”

“Aye.” He scrubbed his unsullied hand over his face. 

“And how exactly do we do that?” The corner of your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. How exactly did you end up in this position? Two strangers, bruised and bleeding, in your apartment. Sure, you weren’t exactly in the best neighborhood and you didn’t own a penthouse, but the place had proven to be safe enough. Mostly quiet. 

You had never seen the men before. You knew there were other tenants, but you had never met any of them. You were perfectly content in your little bubble of solitude. 

But then there you were, a man bleeding out on your couch, his brother using a pair of needle-nose pliers to dig into a gunshot wound—thank god you had managed to take it long enough to clean the tool with some rubbing alcohol. 

“Got it.” He announced triumphantly, holding up the bloody slug. Both were discarded onto your coffee table as if it were a surgical tray. The unconscious brother hadn’t moved an inch, his skin pale, clammy, and damp with perspiration. He didn’t look well at all. 

“Are you sure about an ambulance? He isn’t looking so hot.” You were headed toward the kitchen, hastily grabbing a dish towel and wetting it under the tap. 

“I’m sure, lass.” Connor replied. When you returned, he was plugging the cord of the iron into the socket closest to the couch. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” You slid onto the couch by Murphy’s hip folding the towel. “You’re not actually going to burn him, are you?” Dabbing the sweat from the other man’s forehead, you felt nauseous at seeing Connor approach from the corner of your eye. “Can’t we just stitch it?” 

“He’s bleedin’, love. It’s needin’ to be stopped.”

“Shit.” Choosing to stay seated where you were, you helped shift Murphy onto his right side but swiftly turned your head as the iron came down. The sizzling sound was horrible enough but the second the smell of burning flesh wafted into your nostrils, you gagged. How was Murphy remaining unconscious through it?

“It’s done.” 

“Good. Go me for keeping down my lunch.” You panted. “Let’s, uh—let’s get him all bandaged and then I can look at you.” Connor nodded, gingerly removing his coat. “Don’t expect me to use the iron.”

The apartment was cast in shadows, the moon beginning its shift. Connor had fallen asleep not long after you had, indeed, used the iron on his arm. Unfortunately, your lunch did not survive the second onslaught of burning flesh. 

You had finally been granted an opportunity to put away your groceries. Why you had also felt the need to clean up the blood in the hall and the elevator was beyond you, though the crimson trail leading right to your door might have had something to do with it. It was a miracle no one had been on the lift since the brothers. Well, not really. The building had few tenants. After that task, you had told yourself to keep your eyes on the men, but the sight and smell of blood on your skin proved to be very persuasive in the mental argument on whether or not to shower. 

Your hair was still damp by the time you sank into the chair opposite of where Connor slept. The brothers were exhausted, as were you, but at least you had no injuries. You’d love nothing more than to crawl into your bed, but showering was one thing. Sleeping was an entirely different matter. 

Maybe you should have called the cops. It was logical. These men were obviously into some bad stuff. Still, there was something about them, something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something good. To sense something like that when one of them had yet to speak to you—well, it was curious. 

And curiosity killed the cat. 

Lost in your thoughts, you must have allowed your eyes to close at some point. The next moment of awareness you could identify was met with a deep groan. Connor was still asleep in the same position you had last seen him. Murphy, however, was sitting up, arms draped across his knees with his head hanging. 

“Murphy?” You uttered, sliding to the edge of your chair. 

He was a little slow to react, expression dazed as he sought you out. He lingered on Connor for a moment, the little tension—you hadn’t even noticed—in his shoulders visibly dissipated. Once his gaze found you, you immediately noticed how the moonlight made the same blue eyes you had seen on Connor appear more silver. 

“Who are you?” He croaked, clearing his throat with a hand flying to his left side. 

“I’m Y/N. I, uh—your brother brought you here.” Feeling nervous without Connor awake to corroborate your story, you rubbed at the back of your neck. “You were really hurt and he didn’t want an ambulance.” 

“Turn us in then, will you?”

“If I was going to turn you in, I would have done it before the iron was plugged in.” You curled your lip at the memory of the stench. “I think I’m traumatized.” The man chuckled quietly, dropping his head again. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Aye.” He sounded exhausted. Being unconscious was likely not as restful as a decent night’s sleep. “Water would be nice, lass.” 

“Sure.” Pushing yourself out of the chair, you crossed in front of him on your way to the kitchen. His hand moved faster than you thought him capable of given his current state, wrapping around your wrist in a touch that could only be described as tender. You jerked to a halt and dropped your head to regard him, finding him looking right back at you. God, the man was handsome.

“Thank you.” He offered, his accent thick and sweet like honey. You barely suppressed a shiver. “Truly.”

“It’s no big deal.” It was very much a big deal. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, but you were surprised to find that when he let go, you missed the warmth of his touch, replaced by the tingle it left in its wake. Maybe you had been alone too long. That had to be it. With a soft upward tilt of your lips, you continued to the kitchen, the glass quickly filled to the brim and spilling over onto your hand whilst you found yourself staring at the dark-haired brother. No, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into, but you were quickly going to find out.

“I’m not saying it’s wrong, I’m just saying that not everyone wants to get wasted just because it’s Saint Patrick’s Day.” You smiled over the rim of your glass, opting for a soda instead of beer, much to the MacManus brothers’ dismay.

“You bite your tongue, lass.” Connor feigned offense, a hand splayed dramatically over his chest. Murphy was shaking his head beside his twin.

“Oh, stop clutching your pearls, Con.” You jested, throwing a foot out from the rest at the lower part of the stool to playfully nudge the toe of your boot against his shin.

“Everyone’s Irish on Saint Patty’s day, love.” With a nod toward Doc, another beer was slid straight into Murphy's hand. “It won’t hurt you to have a little fun.” When he stepped into your space to offer the drink, you had no control when your eyes flitted to his lips and back, orbs dancing back and forth as if comparing the two pools of brilliant blue that stared with a suffocating intensity. The corner of his mouth slid up into a smirk that had you tingling in all the right places.

Over the past few months, you had grown close to the brothers, more so with Murphy. He would separate himself from his twin to visit your apartment more than you visited theirs. Quiet conversations, moving closer to one another on the couch with each social call. It wasn’t long before you were perched with your legs folded beneath you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your head on his chest. It was just dialogue, catching one another up on the events of the day. 

He was open about their efforts to rid the city of those that caused harm to the innocent. While you didn’t understand how they could just walk around, unbothered and unrecognized, you found yourself comfortable with what they did. You helped treat their wounds and offered your apartment as a safe haven, should one of their targets send someone to act violently in their stead. The aggressors had no reason to suspect you. Aside from the bar, you were never seen with them. Murphy made sure of it.

“Just one drink, lass.” He insisted. You knew he would back off if you said the word, so you didn’t feel pressured, just persuaded. With a roll of your eyes, you lifted the glass to your mouth and made a show of taking the first sip. “Hurá!” He exclaimed, weaving his arms underneath yours to lift you off the stool. 

“Murphy!” Your beer sloshed in the glass, spilling over the rim and onto your jacket. “Aw, man!” You pouted, opting to stand when he attempted to place you back on the stool. You unzipped and pulled off the article with a huff, revealing your bright green shirt with gold lettering of Kiss Me, I’m Irish. 

“What’s this, love?” Murphy chuckled, his eyes so obviously on your chest. 

“It’s a shirt. More specifically, those are my boobs.” His eyes flitted up to your face, that smirk returning. The man had no shame. For Catholics, the brothers had some questionable morals. 

The drinking went on well after the doors had been locked and the open sign extinguished. You were still nursing your first beer—barely buzzed—the twins too drunk to notice. It was your first Saint Patrick’s Day with the small group, Doc the only one other than you that was resembling anything close to sober. 

When the dark-haired brother staggered toward you, throwing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you into his side, you decided they needed to be cut off. 

“Okay, boys, last call.”

Romeo was protesting loudly to the old man, but your focus was on the brothers. While you knew you needed to accompany them home, it would be the first time you would be with them on the streets. 

Before you could give it too much thought, Murphy was spinning you, hands on your shoulders at arm's length, eyes unfocused and a drunken flush to his cheeks. With a face too serious to be genuine, he ran a finger over the golden four leaf clover just below your breasts. 

“Tell me, love. Do you have any Irish in you?” His attempt at stoicism was bellied by his slurred syllables. 

“No, Murph. I don’t.” 

“Would you care for some?” A lopsided smile formed regardless of his obvious attempts to hold it at bay. You patted his arm with a shake of your head. 

“You’re wasted. Time to get you boys home.” There was a shimmer of disappointment in those blue eyes, so profound that you almost wished you could show your own dismay. Your feelings for Murphy were strong—unnamed but strong. It had been years since your last relationship, one so devastating that you weren’t sure what love was supposed to feel like anymore. Maybe you were simply drawn to his mystery, his ability to make you feel anything at all. 

“It’s early yet.” It was a weak argument, the pout he pinned you with proving his knowledge of it. 

You pointed toward the door and grabbed your jacket.  “Walk, MacManus.” The man grumbled beneath his breath but still staggered to where Connor impatiently protested by the door. 

“Get a room, little brother.” He slurred. 

“I came out first. Settled this, I thought.” Murphy was quick to correct. 

Rolling your eyes as the bickering continued, you steered both of them out the door, calling back a night, Doc over your shoulder. The night air was still chilly for March. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of beer strong from the spilled drink earlier. 

“What’s on your mind, love?” You felt the weight of Murphy’s arm across your shoulders before you even realized he had shifted closer, his stumbling pushing you off balance. 

“The hope of staying vertical while chaperoning a set of drunk twins.” Using your elbow, you pushed him aside, reaching for his black peacoat to keep him on his feet. Chuckling, you wound your arm around through his. “Let’s just focus on getting you two home and in bed.”

“Whoa there, lass.” Connor interjected, his arm falling around your shoulders. “We draw the line at falling into bed together with one woman.” 

“Oh my god!” You threw back your head with a drawn out exasperated noise. “You’re insufferable.” Bracketed between the brothers, you kept up the slow pace toward the apartment building. 

With Conner face-down and snoring into his pillow, you turned your attention toward Murphy, who was currently attempting to fight his way out of his coat. Your smile was fond, your capable hands grabbing his forearms. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You laughed, stilling his movements. His lopsided smile never wavered while you helped him. “Stop smiling, you idiot.”

“You’d rather I frown then?” The deliberate pout was something beyond adorable. With a snort, you dislodged his arms and held out the article of clothing. 

“Time for bed, Murph.” Rubbing his left eye with a fist, the Irishman finally appeared as if he would acquiesce. “Goodnight.” Your arms slid around his neck and you squeezed lightly. As you made to retreat, his own arm slid around your waist and held fast. “Murphy?”

“Stay.” He had angled his head, his lips against the shell of your ear. You could smell the Guiness and cigarettes on his breath, a surprising tonic that made him almost irresistible. 

Almost. 

“I need to go. And you need to sleep.” His other arm wrapped around the middle of your back, both holding loosely. You knew he’d release you if you willed it. 

“Stay.” He said again, nuzzling the side of your head. The heat of his body was rapidly melting your defenses. The last thing you wanted was to wake up to Connor’s jibing at Murphy’s expense—though it wouldn’t be the first time. The two were just such children sometimes. 

However, as his hands languidly explored your back, you felt that snuggling was not what was on his mind that night. That made it easy to unwrap yourself from his hold and step out of reach. Though you had told yourself long ago that you would take that leap with him without hesitation should he ever offer, he was drunk. It wasn’t even a consideration. 

“You don’t want me to stay, Murph. Not like this.” Needing one last touch, you patted his cheek and nearly melted when he leaned into your palm. 

“I do, lass.” He retorted, staggering when your hand pulled away. You chuckled. 

“If you still feel that way in the morning, you know where to find me.”

“Y/N.” He called as you opened the door, pausing to cast him a gentle smile, disappointment hiding just behind it. 

“Goodnight, Murphy.” Once in the hall, you pressed your back against the door and closed your eyes. If only the words could have left a sober tongue, you would have stayed. No, you would have invited him back to your own apartment where privacy wouldn’t have been a concern. 

You wondered how his lips would feel on yours as you pulled out your keys and unlocked your door. How would his hands feel on your skin? His mouth? How would he taste? You imagined the sounds he would make, the breaths and moans. 

Slamming your keys down onto the countertop, you shook your head. “Get a grip, Y/N! He’s your best friend and he’s drunk!” When a whisper of your name, breathless and blissed out echoed in your head, you muttered to yourself, “okay, I need a cold shower.”

The water was lukewarm at best, but did little to cool your skin, flushed with arousal. You shouldn’t have been thinking of Murphy as you lathered up your body, or when your hand ventured between your thighs, but you couldn’t help it. He was all you had ever wanted: kind, loyal, funny, and exquisitely handsome. Reaching the precipice within moments, it didn’t take long for the shame to descend upon you, the guilt of imagining your friend in such a manner. 

“Fuck.” You cursed your weakness, the fragility of your defenses when it came to the opposite sex. You had been burned so many times that it was only natural to assume that anything changing in your relationship with the man—including those depraved thoughts—would destroy what you had built with him.

Clean—at least physically—you crawled into bed and pulled your sheets up to your chin, covering your face with your hands. This had to stop. You were torturing yourself, it was bound to seep into reality eventually, ruining everything and ejecting him from your life. 

It wasn’t until there came a knock on your door that you jolted awake, only then realizing that you had fallen asleep. The morning light crept across the floor and laid warm against the sheets. You could stay there, warm and safe, and you could stay away from Murphy—at least until you could rid yourself of your yearning for him and what could never be. 

The knock came again. 

It was early, maybe 6am. The boys wouldn’t have even rolled over in their beds. So who was at your door?

“Hold your horses!” You barked, clambering out of bed and grabbing blindly for your robe. The front untied, you were in your camisole, sleep shorts, and bunny slippers, the soles loudly scuffing the floor as you reached for the doorknob. “Yeah?” You asked lazily, scratching at your disheveled mane with one eye closed. 

The man wasn’t small. He was big and burly, donned in a trench coat over his button-up and slacks, the shoulder rig holding his twin pistols visible just behind the double breasted buttons. His grin was wicked. 

“You’re not here to sell me Girl Scout cookies, are you?” You squeaked, immediately attempting to slam the door but he was faster with a boot over the threshold. “Mur—” You tried to yell before he tackled you with a hand over your mouth. 

“Boys!” He grunted, his meaty fingers nearly covering your nose as well. It was difficult to breathe. Three more men entered, gazing around your apartment. None of their weapons were drawn. There was no way they could know that the boys lived just down the hall. “Give it a good going over. We want them to know that we were here.” His thick accent was easily recognizable. Italian. 

Your eyes watered from how wide you held them, watching the goons raze your possessions as you were hauled to your feet, hand still silencing you.

“Are we gonna kill her, Luca? Send a message?” One of the men asked as he stepped on your jewelry box. You began to struggle, shouting behind the large palm until the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed roughly into your temple. 

“Not unless she doesn’t leave us a choice.” Then his sour breath was against your ear, the biting metal of the gun grinding against your skull. “You hear that, doll? You be a good girl and you’ll get to live. For now, at least.” He released you and uncovered your mouth, and you sank your teeth into your lip.

Yeah, fuck that. 

Stomping his foot, you threw back a fist and connected with his groin, bolting for the door when he doubled over with a shout. 

“Murphy! Murphy, Connor! Help! Mur—” Your path was blocked, a hand fisting into your hair to slam you against the unforgiving wall. 

“Don’t kill her!” Luca ordered, catching his breath with a hand still cupping his crotch. “Boss wants her alive. Bait for the Saints.” Once he recovered, the bastard grabbed your arm and sharply yanked you away from the other man. The back of his hand snapped your head to the side. You fell onto your hip, catching yourself on your hands with a misting spray of blood from your mouth. “Behave, bitch, or I’ll just have to tell the boss that you pulled a gun and I had to put a few holes in you.”

“Fuck you.” You spat. 

“Maybe. We’ll see how the night goes.” He smirked, slapping your throbbing cheek with a mocking pat before giving the room a once over. “That’s enough. Let’s get out of here before—”

The first shot came from the doorway, the sound muted by the long silencer on a handgun held just in view. The thump of a body hitting the floor from your right made you flinch. Murphy was still fully dressed, t-shirt and jeans rumpled from sleep, while Connor donned only his boxer shorts. Not exactly rescue attire, but you would laugh about it later. 

Hopefully. 

“Get down, lass!” Connor shouted as he stepped into the room. After an elbow to Luca’s gut, you dropped and curled in on yourself, arms wrapping around your head. 

You didn’t dare watch the scene, the gunfire being enough of a motivator to keep you pinned to the floor. Something heavy hit your thigh and drew out a cry of protest. That was going to leave a bruise but it was substantially better than a bullet wound. If some contusions and lacerations were the extent of your injuries, you’d be fortunate. 

Your belongings were shattering, wall plaster crumbling. There was shouting, wails of pain and rage. And you were cowering on the cold floor, your thoughts a myriad of fear, distress. The brothers could be dying and you were doing nothing. 

Three quick huffs through your mouth, you amped yourself up but just as you unfolded, the room went silent. Was it over? Where were the boys? Palms on the floor, you dared to raise your head just as a hand softly gripped your arm. You drew back a fist. Fight or flight had been activated and you’d be damned if you’d run. 

“Easy, love.” Murphy’s hand wrapped around your clenched one, gently urging you to lower it. “It’s over. You’re safe, but we need to leave.” Striking blue eyes gave you a once over. “Can you stand?” You nodded. “Up we get then.”

“Are you okay?” You inquired, dizzy with concern and a possible concussion. There was a cut on his cheek,—the graze of a bullet—blood trickling down his jaw. 

“Right as rain, lass.” His hand dropped yours in favor of clasping your chin, turning your head left and right. You still tasted the iron on your tongue, felt the sting of the hand that had struck you. 

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Connor shuffling behind him, Murphy narrowed his eyes. It was a moment before he seemed to accept your response and stepped around to your side. Hand pressed against the small of your back, he steered you towards the door. 

“Let’s go then.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi, what about a remus x reader, where they get lost in the forest after separating from their friends during a fight with death eaters and remus has to keep reader warm with his body heat.

Thanks for requesting lovely! This is sort of like my apocalypse au, except it's pre-relationship

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is limping something terrible. Each step looks more painful than the last, and yet he’s only quickened his pace since you’d first noticed it about an hour ago. 

You’ve been trying to think of what James and Sirius do when he gets like this. James would be kind but tenacious about it (“Everything alright, Moons? Hip bothering you? Why don’t we have a break? No, come on, we can’t have our best and brightest out of commission if something happens; they’ll kill us all if you’re distracted, Moony.”) whereas Sirius would probably just make something up (“Alright, the pebble in my shoe has worn me down. We’re stopping for the night.”), and you doubt either of those will work for you. 

You were really mostly friends with Sirius before this…this whole thing (it feels a touch dramatic to call it the end of the world, but it has certainly felt like the end of your world), but you’ve become necessarily closer with the other boys over the past few weeks. Needing to rely on one another for survival will do that to you. Still, you’re nowhere near penetrating the bond they have with each other. 

Without James or Sirius to help you, you decide to take your own, simpler approach. 

“Let’s stop.” 

Remus turns to look at you, bemusement warring with agitation on his face. 

“It’s going to be dark soon, and we won’t find them then,” you reason. “We should set up camp.” 

Some of the knee-jerk indignation in Remus’ expression cools, but he still seems frustrated when he says, “James has the tent.” 

You know that. “I know that,” you say, “but aren’t we better off trying to get some rest and starting again in the morning than running ourselves ragged looking for them all night?”

Remus sees the logic in it, you know he does, but his worry for your friends is fighting against his better judgment. You can understand that; you’ve been trying to squash a similar anxiety all day. You’d seen Sirius and James apparate away from the skirmish you’d gotten into with some death eaters just a second before you and Remus had apparated yourselves, so you know that they didn’t get captured or killed. Not there, at least. There’d been some miscommunication in where you were all apparating to, though, and you and Remus had found yourselves on a bluff with no clue where the other half of your band had ended up. 

You comfort yourself by thinking about how competent they are, that they’re too smart to die in the woods, and they’ve got all the supplies besides. James being the one to lug that heavy pack around has finally paid off; you’re sure they’re thinking about how you and Remus are managing without food or camping supplies, but you’d rather be worried about than worry. 

You let your pack slip from your shoulders and kneel to start going through it. Remus is stubborn, but he’s too nice to argue with you if you make it clear that you’ve already made the decision to stop. You’re right; he drops his own pack beside you a second later. You pretend not to hear his tiny exhale of relief as he lowers himself to the ground. 

You and Remus have been carrying the nearly useless, lighter stuff. Extra clothes, a tarp for when it rains, the line you all hang your clothes on if they get wet, a first aid kit. You dig to the bottom of your pack, hoping someone’s forgotten a bag of dried fruit or something down there, but no luck. 

“Maybe…” You look around you. “Maybe we use some of the clothes to pad the roots of that big tree, and then we could use the tarp to block the wind.”

Remus nods. “That’s a good idea,” he says, the vexation fading from his features along with the pain. “How about I work on the protection spells while you grab some brush for a fire?”

“Sounds good.” You give him a smile, setting a hand on his shoulder when he goes to stand up. “You can do it from there.” 

You don’t give him a chance to argue, moving into the woods to collect sticks and pieces of dried grass. When you return, the campsite is gone, and you force your breaths to even despite the feeling of wrongness as you push through the barrier Remus has put up. You find him setting up the tarp on the other side. He looks better already, you think contentedly, and you begin selecting the thickest clothes for your nest. 

The silence between you isn’t easy, exactly; it’s bogged down with fear for your friends and of the death eaters that had already tracked you down once before. Still, you like that Remus doesn’t feel the need to fill your silence with chatter. Before long the two of you are curled up atop your makeshift beds, breathing frigid puffs of air into the night. You’d given up on adding more brush to the fire awhile ago. Short of sleeping with your head two inches from the flames, there’s not much you can do to combat the biting cold. It’s all you can do to keep your teeth from chattering as you press your knees tightly to your chest, huddling under the extra jackets Remus had found to use as blankets. 

There’s no hope of sleeping when you’re trembling like this, but you pray Remus is better off. James always says he runs hot as a furnace, so you’re hoping his own body heat is keeping him warm beneath his layers. You’d hate to think of what the cold probably does to his stiff joints. 

“You awake?” Remus’ breath should be hot against your neck, but by the time it crosses the space between you it feels as frigid as everything else. 

You roll over to face him. “Y—yeah.” Your breaths are shudding, lips so cold you can hardly feel them moving. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” he promises, the gentleness back in his voice now that he’s had a chance to rest. “Cold, though, so I imagine you must be even colder.”

You try to shrug, but movement only makes the chills worse, your body quivering violently against your will. 

Remus makes a soft pitying sound. “You want to share our coats?” 

He means your makeshift blankets. “I do—don’t want—to make you colder.” 

“That’s not how bodyheat works, love,” he says, sounding almost like he could laugh. He shuffles toward you, dragging his share of the spare clothes with him. “Come on.” 

You move towards him obediently. Remus brings you under the big coat he’s using for his torso, and you almost sigh at the warmth in there. You let your legs uncurl, getting as close to him as you can. 

“Oh.” It’s a surprised sort of coo, Remus’ arm wrapping around you to draw you closer. “Sweetheart, you’re freezing. Here, roll over.” 

He helps you turn with a hand at your hip, drawing you up against him. He really is emanating heat, warmth seeping from his front into your back and spreading from his arm around your waist to your entire midsection. Remus reaches over you, adjusting one of the jackets over your face, and you breathe hot air into the space, warming yourself. Your shivers die down as he begins to stroke slow, soothing circles about your navel. 

“Better?” he asks, once you’re nearly motionless against him. You hum, and you feel the quiet chuckle that reverberates through his chest. 

“Yeah,” you say, each exhale fanning hot against your face. “Thanks, Remus.” 

“I know what you were doing earlier,” he says, embarrassment quieting his voice. “I can look out for you too, you know.” 

You’re thinking of responding, but Remus’ body is so warm, and his hand on your stomach is so comforting, and you don’t get a chance.

[cantstoptheimagines]

Attachments (Jamie Tartt | Ted Lasso)

Summary — When it came to having a one-night stand with Jamie, you expected to be nothing more than an additional notch on his belt. Unbeknownst to you, he had other plans. 

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Walnut Mist Jamie; coworkers to lovers; a touch of idiots in love (mostly on the Reader’s part); friendly teasing from the Diamond Dogs; references to sex, but no actual smut.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,038. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

You weren’t entirely sure what to do.

The way Jamie’s hand slowly traveled over your lower back sent butterflies throughout your stomach. You had woken up to find yourself wrapped in his soft linen sheets, limbs tangled up in his blanket with your face squished against a pillow.

Lying on your stomach, you admired him with a tired gaze. He was on his back next to you, eyes closed and blissfully unaware that you were no longer asleep. One hand rested on his stomach while the other continued creating patterns against your bare skin.

The gentle feeling nearly lulled you back to sleep. Jamie’s scent was overwhelming your thoughts. His bedding smelled of his favorite cologne. If it hadn’t been for his alarm, you would’ve felt as though you were drifting into a second heaven. 

You quickly closed your eyes, not ready for the conversation Jamie might want to have about the previous night. Next to you, he turned off his alarm and let out a deep groan. You could hear every movement he made, thinking you were still dreaming peacefully without a care in the world.

He shifted closer until you could feel his skin against yours. His warmth surrounded you in an instant. He hovered over you with an arm on either side, balancing on his elbows. His chest was almost flush against your back. It took everything within you to not let out a surprised squeal. 

His lips gently grazed your forehead, then your temple, then your cheek in a series of sweet kisses. He nosed at your skin before taking in the scent of your shampoo. You could feel him smile against your cheek before another kiss was layered there.

His affections traveled to your shoulders. He pushed himself closer. You tried not to smile at the feeling of him. His lips left a warm trail of open-mouthed kisses from your left shoulder to the right. 

Finally, after one last kiss landed against your back, Jamie shifted away from you. The blankets rustled and, without him, you suddenly felt cold.

Opening your eyes once again, you admired the way the muscles in his back flexed with every tired stretch as he made his way to the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of water falling from the showerhead echoed through the open door. 

With the knowledge that Jamie wouldn’t be back for at least a few minutes, you reluctantly shuffled out his bed. Within moments, your clothes were on and you were disappearing without so much as a goodbye. 

You were busy sorting through some papers for Ted when Jamie slipped into your office. In an instant, you regretted choosing the workspace that was connected to that of the main coaches’, mostly due to the glass windows that allowed them to see everything. 

As Jamie closed the door behind him, you could see several of your colleagues looking at one another curiously. It was the worst time for them to be having one of their Diamond Dog meetings. Not only would you be questioned by Ted and Beard, but potentially by Roy, Trent, and Higgins as well.

“Hey.”

Your eyes fluttered from your nosy coworkers to Jamie. He offered a bright smile, pushing back his hair with a black sports headband. He had already changed into his kit for practice. You leaned back against the front of your desk, waiting for him to carry the conversation.

“Missed you this morning,” he said, “wanted to tell ya goodbye. I was gonna make breakfast too, but you’d already gone, so...”

His voice trailed off, unsure of what else he should say. Your suddenly quiet demeanor was throwing him off. He thought about everything he could’ve done to make you upset, but came up empty-handed. 

“I had to go home and get ready for work,” you replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh,” he nodded understandingly. “Well then, how about tonight? I’ll take ya out for dinner to make it up, alright?” 

You blinked in surprise, “Jamie, you don’t have to do that. I mean, what we did last night was just a one-time thing.” 

“It was?” 

Within seconds, Jamie looked like a puppy who had just gotten treats taken away. His eyes dimmed and his smile fell, “I see.” 

“Wasn’t it?” 

Jamie shrugged. Your office had gone silent, save for the sounds of his boots shuffling awkwardly against the carpet. Through the glass, you could see Ted’s eyes going between the two of you. 

“Don’t know,” muttered Jamie, finally breaking the long silence. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while. I kinda stopped all that one-night stand stuff, I guess.”

“Really?” you breathed, taken aback by his admission. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hands fiddling with the hem of his jersey. “Look, I really like ya, but if this isn’t something—” 

Panic built up within your chest. You hadn’t expected his desire to see you outside of his bedroom. Before he could break things off, you cut him off, “Pick me up tonight. We can go to Ola��s.” 

His expression returned to its brighter self, “You’re serious?” 

Heat rose beneath your skin when he grinned after receiving a nod in response. Quick as ever, Jamie moved closer. His proximity almost made you forget about the watchful eyes of the Diamond Dogs.

Once he was close enough, Jamie placed his hands on your cheeks. You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned in to gently kiss your forehead. After giving you a tight hug as well, Jamie left your office with a skip in his step, leaving the door open as he returned to the locker room. 

“So...”

You met the stares and poorly hidden grins of your colleagues, aside from Roy, of course. Ted, as usual, was the one who had spoken up first. He bounced excitedly in his seat.

With a teasing tone, Ted completed his thought, “You and Jamie, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in an effort to conceal a smile. Each of them began pursing their lips, dramatically kissing the air. This time, much to your surprise, Roy joined in. You scoffed at their antics, wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into by agreeing to a date with Richmond’s star striker.

[lifeontoast]

Fairytale of Seattle

Platonic!Alice and Rosalie x reader

SUMMARY: Day 2! A girly shopping trip with Alice and Rosalie - what could go wrong?

Trigger warnings: none, I don’t think.

…

Today was the day. Alice had somehow convinced you and Rosalie to come shopping with her. After much begging and pleading, you had no choice but to give in. Much as you had complained about it, a tiny part of you had been looking forward to it.

Setting off early in the morning, the three of you made your way to Seattle, as Alice said it had ‘the BEST shops!’. You had to take her word for it on that one. You knew next to nothing about all that sort of thing, and Rosalie had to agree. Shopping was very much Alice’s forte, not that she hadn’t tried to change that with you two. The car ride had been very uneventful, but you had requested Christmas songs on the way, and before you knew where you were, you were all yelling the words at the tops of your voices. Even Rosalie had been persuaded to join in.

Several rounds of Step into Christmas and one particularly heartfelt rendition of ABBA’s Happy New Year later, you reached the city, before finally swinging into a parking spot just as you were belting out the final chorus of Christmas Lights. The festivities didn’t stop there; you all but danced down the street, arm in joyful arm. Every shop was totally decked out with every kind of decoration you could possibly imagine. Bells jingling, fake candles flickering, fake snow glittering; it was a magical sight to see. There was real snow on the pavement and on the roads, turning to slush as you walked through it. Thank goodness today wasn’t a sunny day, or else you’d all be sparkling like the snow.

The first shop you wandered into was, of course, a clothes shop. You knew that there’d be no escaping it, with Alice in charge of the trip. You dutifully tried on all the clothes she practically threw at you, and even found a few pieces that you actually liked. Say what you like about Alice, but she has damn good taste. She said that you’d need outfits for several occasions, including Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and New Year’s Eve. and that was just for starters. The pair of you decided to humour her and just go along with what she was telling you. Rosalie looked absolutely stunning in a short, sparkly red dress that made her legs look ten miles long and set off her pearly skin perfectly. Alice herself was happily parading around in a white number, that she said was ‘perfect for New Year’s Eve!’

Next, you found yourself in a bookstore, trying to find presents for the rest of the Cullens. Shopping with Alice was like walking in a tornado; you never knew where you’d end up next. You decided on a book on the history of Chicago for Edward, and some medical tome for Carlisle, not that there wasn’t anything about medicine that he didn’t already know. Esme liked her hobbies, so you chose a book on flower-pressing for her. Smiling, you pretended not to look as Alice picked up the book you’d wanted for ages. You paid for all your books, and you all but staggered out of the shop carrying them all in tote bags full to bursting, making you really wish you’d got them last.

By this time, it was around noon. The next shop you hit was a homeware store, to pick up some new decorations for the Christmas tree and a gingerbread house kit. Even though you couldn’t actually eat it, they were so fun to make. Carlisle could always bring it as a treat for the other workers at the hospital. Sighing, you thought about the long-ago times when you could’ve eaten it. But now was not the time for reflection. You finished quickly there, sporting tinsel feather boas for some extra festive pizzazz. Stopping at LUSH, you bought yourself a bath bomb, along with some other goodies for the girls. More shops, more gifts. It was never-ending in the best way possible.

By 6 o’clock, you had well and truly shopped until you dropped. The car ride back was another karaoke bonanza, featuring Rosalie’s incredible version of All I Want for Christmas is You. You had found that Rosalie had taken a lot of thawing, but once you knew her, she really was a lovely person to be around. Same with Alice, but she was as bubbly as a bath. She had already declared you firm friends on the first day you met. It was times like Christmas when you were really grateful for the Cullens and the warm welcome they had extended to you; having nobody to spend Christmas with was miserable.

Back at the house, the fun continued with a screening of Elf, everyone in the matching pyjamas Alice had somehow managed to sneak into the shopping basket at one point, totally unbeknownst to you. The faces Edward made when he was presented with them were absolutely priceless. It had been a fun day. Maybe you’d let Alice take you shopping again soon. Not too soon, though!

…

Hope you enjoyed :)

[catalogercas]

Whumptober 2023 Day 2 Prompt:

Not Enough Rain to Wash the Sins Out of this House

"I'll call out your name, but you won't call back."

Thermometer | Delirium | "They don't care about you."

Jamie winces against the tangled memory from the middle of the night, where his dad and Roy were both real and both there.

Keeley and Roy's whispers are a low buzz in the background of their bedroom as Jamie pinches his brow against the throbbing in his temple. His head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, too heavy to lift from his pillow, and he can't keep his eyes open so he just listens to Roy rehash what he'd sort of hoped was a particularly vivid bad dream.

Because he hates how he has to carry this with him. Can't escape it. No matter how much he wants to.

Stupid trauma.

"The fucking muppet was trying to get ready for training at 2 in the morning," Roy says. "He was spiking a fever and fucking out of it."

"So why do you look like you want to commit murder then?" Keeley asks. "You know you can't murder a fever, yeah?"

"He...," Roy grunts then continues, "I haven't seen that petrified fucking look in his eyes since fucking Wembley. He was completely delirious, Keeley, fucking apologizing for taking too long to get ready and for almost face planting into his dresser. Took me ten minutes to get him to calm down enough to realize that fucking piece of shit wasn't here before I could get him to down some Paractemol."

"Oh," Keeley says with a sharp gasp. "That fucking bastard, messing with our boyfriend when he's not even here!"

And Keeley's right.

That's what he hates the most. That his dad doesn't even have to show up to make things worse. He's already done enough for a lifetime.

Jamie winces against the tangled memory from the middle of the night, where his dad and Roy were both real and both there.

He'd startled awake to the the open threat of his dad standing in front of him with an empty, broken beer bottle in hand, waving it towards his rear as he told him to hurry up and get his kit on, and Jamie was trying, he was, trying to so he could maybe avoid the sharp cut of jagged glass against his skin. But his limbs were heavy, and he just couldn't get them to cooperate.

Then there was Roy's voice cutting through it repeating that it was okay, that it was just him, and that he was safe while Jamie tried to make him understand that he had to get ready, couldn't disappoint his old man more than he already had, could he, until he'd finally slumped against Roy in complete exhaustion, sobbing until Roy gently led him back to bed and gave him medicine before pulling him in close and wrapping his arms so tight around him he felt like he couldn't get loose. Which he'd really needed. It grounded him. Made him feel safe. Like nothing but being wrapped in Roy Kent's arms could.

The weight of Roy's arms and Keeley's soft snores from the other side of the bed, where she'd somehow slept like the dead through his entire breakdown, had lulled him back to sleep.

"We're sure I can't go up to Manchester and have at the bastard?" Roy asks.

"You're no good to me and Jamie, or Phoebe, if you're in prison, Roy," Keeley says, like she always does.

"Well if it weren't for that, it'd be fucking worth it," Roy mutters, like he always does.

"Mmm," Jamie hums. He has mixed feelings about it. Always has, probably always will, but he feels terrible enough as it is and doesn't want them to keep going on about his dad.

Keeley reaches over for him, "Didn't know you were awake, love. How do you feel?"

"Like shit," Jamie says. "Can't even get me eyes open."

"Oh you poor thing," Keeley says as she rubs at his back. "Anything we can do?"

"Stay with me? And, er, don't talk about murdering me dad right now, even if he deserves it? Still me dad. 'S complicated," Jamie slurs drowsily.

"Of course," Keeley says, squeezing his shoulders.

"Right, then," Roy says, "I'm getting the thermometer. It's got to be lower now than it was last night, but, you twat, I almost took you to the E.R."

"Not the twat here," Jamie says, "fever's the twat."

[twignotstick]

TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 11: What Took You So Long? 🌃

<- Chapter 10: To Be Reborn 🌸

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): first-aid, talking about bodily functions (purely comedy), threats of violence

Words: 4,470 🪦

Summary: Say hi to your new roommates! (And to your new future!)

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

Admittedly, the fact that it was so easy to sneak into her apartment building with five mutants was a little concerning to April. It was far too simple to move in ways that evaded the security cameras. Transporting Leonardo was the most difficult part, and at this point, he had decided to refuse all help and try to walk on his own. Donatello and Splinter were helping him anyway, since CJ had left to go to his own place.

April led the way and unlocked the door to her apartment, whispering to her guests to keep quiet.

“Finally, you’re home! Where did you go? I was getting worried about y-” Irma turned around from beside the kitchen countertop, freezing at the sight of the mutants looming behind April in the doorway. “Wh… what?”

April bit her tongue, wringing her hands in front of her. “So, uh, it’s sort of a long story.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Raphael huffed over her shoulder. Michelangelo, who was still being carried in his big brother’s arms, was very close to falling into slumber. Yet, he still tried to look at whoever Raphael was talking to, as if he could use any ounce of power to say hello as well.

Irma’s face became even more awestruck. “You know, just- just come in. Explain after. I’ll get my stuff.” She blinked rapidly and shook her hands out, walking over to her bed to grab her medical kit. Halfway across the room, she turned around and pointed at April accusingly, saying, “And you will explain everything.”

April was relieved, despite the not-so-subtle threat. “Go lay down on the couch,” she directed, pointing at the sofa near the center of the room.

Leonardo was led over, and Raphael holding Michelangelo followed behind. Raphael sat down in the corner of the sofa first, and the mutants quickly realized a problem; they would not all fit on the seat.

“You guys sit down,” Leonardo said timidly. “I can lay down in front here. On this, uhm, nice rug. That I hopefully won’t ruin with blood.”

“We can wash it if you do, it’ll be okay.” April took her jacket off and hung it by the door, dropping her bat there too, taking a moment to breathe. There was still a steady buzz in April’s ears and a fuzzy feeling in her fingers, but she couldn’t quite identify what may be causing the symptoms.

Donatello and Splinter sat down, with Splinter taking the seat in the opposite corner from Raphael and Donatello sitting in the middle of the sofa, between his brothers and his father. Leonardo laid down on the rug in front of the sofa, tumbling like a house of cards. His shell was still bleeding, but there were parts that seemed to have healed since they had found him. Which was… definitely peculiar. Still, it was scarring. Leonardo’s carapace was not going to be pretty after this.

Irma came back with her medical supplies, hissing through her teeth at the sight of Leonardo’s injuries. “How you doing, Old Navy?”

“Uhm, it's L-Leonardo now,” Leonardo mumbled from the floor.

“Okay. Leonardo,” Irma repeated faintly, puffing up her chest minutely. “Fancy names now.” She kneeled at Leonardo’s side, opening up her bag. “April,” she addressed with a sideways glance, “go get some ibuprofen from the cabinet. Hopefully you can take an actual adult dose, since you’re… uh… sort of more human now? I get that right?”

“Yes,” Leonardo smiled just a little, the corner of his beak turning up. “We’re more human now.”

“Coolio. Very cool.” Irma looked across the mutants on the couch as well, gauging what they may have been through. “I’ll get April to tell me what happened, you guys can relax.”

Michelangelo was already well on his way to doing just that. His head was lolling where it sat against Raphael’s plastron, and his breathing was soft and even. Raphael was following close behind, seemingly comforted by the presence of his family in a more pleasant space than the van. Donatello was still fussing over the injuries on his little brother’s limbs and neck, even after they had been bandaged in the van. Splinter put a hand on Donatello’s shoulder, looking into his son’s eyes when he was able to pull Donatello’s attention his way. “Rest now, my s-son. Miss Irma will tend to all of our injuries. She is very well informed.”

Donatello nodded reluctantly, curling his limbs around himself and fiddling with the end of his father’s tail in his hands. He looked tired despite his earlier excitement about their new mutation. Or maybe it was due to that excitement. It was difficult to tell. Either way, the boy was tired. Splinter rubbed his son's shoulder with his thumb as the turtle started to drift into slumber as well.

Irma took to addressing the cuts and burns on Leonardo's back. She put gloves over her hands (she would not be taking any chances with the potential diseases these mutants might carry) and started cleaning the open wounds. She sent April to grab some ice packs from the fridge and put them up against Leonardo’s taser burns, and April made sure that the burns Michelangelo had been struck with were taken care of as well. Luckily as a medical student, Irma kept herself stocked on the sort of supplies necessary for such a process.

With the help of some bigger, heavier duty bandages, Leonardo’s shell stopped its bleeding. He hadn’t struggled much, but when he had, Splinter had reached out to comfort him. By the end Leonardo was nearly giving in to slumber as well.

Irma sighed, pulling her gloves off. She wanted to make sure the other turtles didn’t have bad injuries, but they weren’t visibly bleeding and they were all asleep. They clearly needed the rest. So, despite the fear of invisible internal injuries kept itching at the back of her mind, she sought the rest of the context first. She turned to April, who had joined her on the floor. “So, do I get the story now?”

April’s breath caught in her chest, as if she had been lost in her head before being addressed. “Oh yeah, sure. So, remember Doctor Stockman? How I said I would talk to him?”

“Yeah?”

“So, turns out he actually helped make these guys. But- but it gets weirder. He made them with this other dude, named Barton Axum.”

“He made them? And wait, ‘Barton Axum’?” Irma laughed quietly. “What kinda name is that?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get to meet him. But basically, when I interviewed Stockman, he got all sus of me and why I wanted to know about mutants and stuff, so he sent these drone-dog-things to follow me-”

“He tried to stalk you?” Irma whispered worriedly.

“Well, sort of?” April paused, thinking though the situation. “Yeah, no, yeah, that totally counts as stalking. So, he sent these things to stalk me, and he found out the mutants were alive, even though he thought they died years ago. But somehow, Axum also had access to his drone things, so he found out about it too, and he wanted to ‘finish their project’ and turn them into supermutant soldiers.”

Irma looked back up at the wounded mutants in front of her. “And he… succeeded?”

“Well, he finished the project. They’re what he wanted them to be, as far as we’re concerned. But he didn’t get to keep them as supersoldiers!” April shot Irma finger guns, acting much too cheery for the situation. “There were sort of batons, and tasers, and I think I heard like maybe one gunshot somewhere, but no one got shot.”

“Did you get hurt?” Irma asked genuinely.

April found herself struggling to respond. “I mean… yeah. I sort of got hit in the head with a baton-” April lifted a hand to the side of her head where she had been hit, finding a large bump. The shock of the sudden pain caused tears to start welling in her eyes and helped her mind start to reflect on the insane events of the day- no, the afternoon. The adrenaline pumping through her veins had led to her ignoring the pulsing pain in her skull. It took until now to realize that, hey, that really freaking hurt.

“Put an ice pack on it. It should help with the swelling.” Irma gestured to the ice pack April had offered to Michelangelo before. “If it’s warm, you can grab some ice and put it in a plastic bag instead. Just make sure you put a paper towel between the bag and your skin, since it's safer that way.”

Grabbing the ice pack, which was still pretty cold, and putting it up to her head, April let out a heavy sigh. “Thanks so much, Irm. I couldn’t think of where else to bring them, or I would have-”

“Don’t worry about it, Roja.” Irma put a hand on April’s arm. “They’re gonna need a lot of help after this, and I’m happy to be part of it.”

April showed a small smile, closing her eyes and nodding. She sat in the silence for a moment, just listening to the mutants breathing, then added, “I don’t think they know what a bathroom is.”

“Oh, most definitely not. Our upholstery is probably past saving. I bet you twenty dollars they don’t know how to use a toilet.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

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

April lost twenty dollars.

The first one to rise the next morning was Splinter, and April had decided to raise the question. She was able to explain the process to Splinter, so he could tell his sons. The situation was easy to sort out. Irma had left earlier to get more groceries, and see if she could figure out whatever other things the mutants may need.

Splinter had since settled back onto the sofa, still surrounded by his sleeping sons. April had offered him a book to read, but the rat had refused, saying he would prefer to go back to sleep. She decided to turn the TV to cartoons at a low volume just so the apartment wouldn’t be silent while she worked on breakfast. French toast seemed like an okay option.

Not long after she had started making breakfast, April heard the sound of another mutant waking up. She turned away from the counter to see Michelangelo rubbing his eyes and sitting up a little more straight.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” April held up the frying pan she was about to use. “I was just starting breakfast.”

Michelangelo looked around the room. He seemed a little lost. “Morning…”

April tilted her head. “Are you feeling any better? Do you… do you remember everything?”

“I think so?” The turtle rubbed his neck with a hand. “We’re at your home now, right? After, uh, the bad guy made us humans?”

“Yep, you’re in mine and Irma’s apartment. And I wouldn’t call you guys humans, Michelangelo. Maybe more human-like, but you’re definitely still a turtle.” April started beating the eggs in a shallow bowl.

“Oh, okay!” Michelangelo leaned forward, as if to hop off of the couch and walk closer, but stopped at the obstruction of his big brother still on the floor. “Irma’s the name of the tall lady that helped fix my leg, right?”

April nodded in confirmation, spying Michelangelo’s predicament. “If you don’t want to risk waking him up, you can climb over the back of the couch.”

Michelangelo’s eyes widened. “I can?”

“I mean… yeah. I’m not going to stop you.” April added all of the other necessary ingredients to her bowl. “You’re in a bit of an inopportune spot. Oh, and if you need to pee, you’ve gotta wake Splinter up first. He’ll show you how.”

“Okay.” Michelangelo shuffled out of Raphael’s lap, then tumbled over the back of the couch and onto the floor with a thud. April looked up nervously, waiting for him to rise back up. He eventually did, stabilizing himself with his palms held out. “I did it!” April kept her eyes trained on him as he toddled over on unsteady feet, mixing as she did so.

“Good to see you're feeling good enough to walk around. So, uh, completely unrelated question, don't have to answer if you don't want to,” she gestured in the air with the fork she was using, “if you had to put a number on how old you are, what would that number be? Because I sort of want to know what I'm getting into, if I’m going to have you guys staying in my apartment for an undetermined amount of time.”

“Scav says I'm 13 years old. So, uhm, that.” Michelangelo sniffed the air, looking at what April was doing with awe. “What are those smells?”

Oh. Well, that explains some things. “It's french toast! Bread, eggs, cinnamon, milk, a little vanilla. It's really good, and you can add syrup on it if you want too.” April got to dunking the first slices of bread, and tossed them onto the pan.

“Ooo. Cool!” Michelangelo came up to the countertop, putting his hands on the edge of the counter and watching intently. “What's a syrup? And a cinnamon? And vanilla?”

April flipped the toast in the pan. “Uh, they're things you add to food to make it taste better?”

“Sweet!” Michelangelo's fingers drummed on the countertop. “I like when food tastes good.”

April laughed softly, somewhat in pity of Michelangelo's ignorance. “Don't we all.”

“I do.” Michelangelo grabbed one of the nearby barstools, sitting down as April continued her work. “When the food tastes bad, that usually means it comes back up or makes you sick later.”

Clenching her teeth, April looked at Michelangelo sadly. “Well, hopefully none of the food here will taste bad.” She grabbed two slices of toast that had finished cooking and put them in front of Michelangelo. “You can try sprinkling some cinnamon on, and I can go grab the syrup from the fridge too.”

Michelangelo tucked into the bread quickly. With his constant smile, it was hard to tell if he was enjoying it or not, but he didn’t stop eating, so one would assume he was. He experimented with the cinnamon as April suggested (after April’s short explanation of how to use the shaker), and soon he sprinkled cinnamon over the rest of his toast.

Leonardo began to stir by the couch. He blinked around at the room, then started pushing himself up on his forearms. A small wince came when he felt the injuries on his back again, but he continued to get to his feet and look over at Michelangelo and April in the kitchen. He hunched a bit to keep his head away from the ceiling.

“We’ve got food over here,” April said sweetly when he looked their way.

“Oh,” Leonardo nervously walked over, “okay. Morning, Scout.”

“It’s Michelangelo,” Michelangelo said with sweet insistence. He finished the last bite of his toast, looking over at his brother gleefully. “I’m gonna go ask Father how to pee!” He briskly ran over to wake up his father on the sofa.

Leonardo shot him a curious glance, then looked back at April, equally as confused.

“Human bathrooms are different. I already showed Splinter how to use it this morning.”

“Okay.” Leonardo walked up to the counter, taking the plate that April offered him and biting a small bit off of the toast. “Thank you. Again. For letting us stay here. Even when nothing makes sense and we can talk now, for some reason.” He tapped on the edge of his plate for a second. “It’s nice to actually get to talk to you, if that means anything.”

“It means a lot.” April happily got toast on plates for the two remaining brothers. “You don’t mind your new names, right? Do you want me to keep calling you… Protector?”

“No! No, Leonardo is fine.” He looked at the cinnamon shaker inquisitively, and April silently demonstrated how to use it. “I think I’m just a little overwhelmed by what’s happened. And y’know, everything sort of hurts. And I don’t like being in a new place, I guess.”

“You can take more ibuprofen, if you want. You seemed to take the first dose just fine.” April grabbed the bottle and took out two pills, offering them for the turtle to take. “Do you mind if I call you Leo instead?”

Leonardo swallowed the pills, then paused. “I thought my name was Leonardo?”

“Well, it is. Leo is just a nickname.” At Leonardo’s blank stare, April decided to elaborate. “Like, a short version of your name. Because your name starts with Leo? Like, we could call Raphael Raph, and Donatello Donnie, and Michelangelo could be Mikey. Just so you don’t have to say your full name every time.”

“Oh.” Leo took a bite of his food, smiling at the taste. “I don’t mind that.”

“Great.” April couldn’t fight the grin on her face. She walked around the counter. “I’ll wake up your brothers so they can eat, too. Then we can tell them about their nice new nicknames.”

“I’m sure they’ll like them as much as I do.”

April made her way to the sofa, gently shaking Raph’s shoulder to wake him. The turtle jolted, grabbing his brother’s shell beside him and pulling Donnie closer. In doing so, he woke Donnie as well. A low growl rumbled from Raph’s throat for a second, before he registered where he was again. He breathed heavily, calming himself down.

“Are you… okay?” April whispered hesitantly.

“I'm… I’m fine. Just got confused.” Raph still kept a tight hold on Donnie.

Donatello, meanwhile, took to rubbing his eyes. “Cool that you’re confused,” he mumbled blearily, “I’m hungry.”

“We’ve got food!” April stood up straight, moving her arms robotically to chase off the awkwardness of the interaction. “French toast, and anything you want on it!”

Donnie wrestled his way free of Raph’s arms, hopping up and walking over to the breakfast spread. “I don’t know what that is, but that is fantastic.”

Leo looked up from the bite he was taking. “It’s really good. I think you’ll like it.”

Donnie grimaced at the toast. “It smells like it’s covered in carnivorous proteins.”

April glanced over at him, trying to hold back laughter. “I mean it's… it's covered in egg. I don’t know if that qualifies as-”

“I can’t eat this.” Donnie sat down at the counter regardless. “It’ll irritate my digestive system. I eat an herbivorous diet-”

“How do you know all these human words?” Raph asked, still growling quietly.

“Because, unlike you, I actually took the time to listen to different humans in their natural environment.”

“That’s not our fault,” Leo said. “We both didn’t go out in the human world so we could take care of the family. It’s not like… I don’t know…”

“Well, yes, but you didn't do anything to try to enjoy what the human world has to offer.” Donnie suspiciously examined his toast, turning it to see all angles. “Regardless, staying in a human home will be a perfect opportunity for you two to be exposed to some human culture.”

Raphael stood up, popping his neck as he rose from his seat. “And who said we wanted to be exposed to human culture? And why’d you say it like that? Sounds like we’re gonna get some disease.”

“It will help us understand our new human compatriots more.” Donnie reluctantly took a small bite from his toast, finding it actually didn’t taste bad. He turned around to April, who was now coming over toward the counter again with Raph. “Like you, April. What sort of stories do you have to share from your human culture? Perhaps that outing that you were scheduled to have with your crush? How did that go?”

Oh crap.

She had totally bailed on Cassie.

And just when it was starting to feel like something was happening, you had to ruin it by being a total weirdo. AGAIN.

April was just about to start lamenting the loss of the love of her life, but she zoned back in to the real world to see Raph giving Donnie a noogie and snatching one of the slices of toast from the younger turtle’s plate. Leo almost started to intervene, but decided that it would be fine to allow a little bit of roughhousing. The nervousness and sadness evaporated from April’s chest.

Maybe bailing was worth it this time. It was the first time, when she'd bailed on CJ all those months ago.

Michelangelo popped out of the bathroom, with Splinter poking his head around the doorframe behind him. “Guys, you’ve gotta check this out! You pee and it just goes away!”

With childish curiosity, the boys finished shoving food in their faces and rushed to investigate Mikey's incredible new discovery.

At this point, it can’t get any weirder.

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

A man sat in a chair. He didn't come to sit in this chair on any occasion; he only came to sit in this chair when he needed to make a statement. When he needed to drill a thought into someone's head. At this moment, that was just what he needed to do.

The chamber the chair was seated in was large, yet it felt suffocating. Curtains covered the walls, which if exposed would show painted brick. With the curtains, the room was much darker and difficult to perceive. Almost as if the edges of the room were infinite, but hidden behind the curtains like a trade secret. The side walls were mostly glass, and with the absence of any other light source in the room, the light of the moon’s reflection was the only thing illuminating the room. Even so, with the angle of the moon, most of the room was still cloaked in darkness. Small potted plants sat by the windows, contrasting with the feeling of death and doom the rest of the room may bring. Of course, every one of these design details were intentional; the man sitting in the chair did nothing without intention. He hated those who did so.

His face was hidden by the shadow, cloaking his identity from the two men who stood before him. The darkness left much to the imagination, but the point of his nose and the edge of his shoulder caught the moonlight. One of his two visitors was new, and visibly more nervous than the other.

Rightfully so.

“You lost them… again?”

“Sir, we're going to get them back. It really should be easy, especially with Baxter's-”

“Silence.”

The weaker man shriveled, shutting himself up.

“I've gained nothing from your cyclical trials. You have presented me with nothing.”

“...sir, if you just let me-”

“I will not let you do anything else. You have wasted too much of my time. To let you continue this madness would be the dumbest decision I've ever made.”

Axum pursed his lips, clenching his fists.

“The witness who spoke with me explained how the rat fought. That alone should take your head from your shoulders.” The man's eyes slid over to his other visitor. “And you? You helped them escape?”

At being addressed, the newcomer jolted alert. He seemed to be attempting to put on a false air of formality; as if he knew which kind of formalities to use with this figure.

“W-well- Well not exactly, sir. I didn't- I swear, if I would have known that-”

The man stood from his chair, and in three long strides, he came to be near only four feet from his fragile visitors. He kept in mind the angle of the light, ensuring that his face would remain hidden. The sword in the sheath at his waist came free in a fluid motion, landing with the point of the blade held to the fresh meat's neck.

“Stop your piddly blabbering. Did you help them escape or not?”

“...yes, sir.”

With long hesitation, the only sound being the shaky breaths of the visitors and a thick swallow right by the blade, the man sheathed his weapon once more.

“Axum. I will not look upon your face again until I see those mutants first. I will not listen to your voice. When you do recapture them, you will report to one of my soldiers, and they will report to me. Before any of your meritless trials or experiments.”

Axum nodded.

“And you.”

A small bit of light caught on the edge of the man's cheekbone and jaw, highlighting his angled features.

“You will continue the study of this mutagen and you will accelerate the process of mutation.”

Baxter stared into the blank face, hesitating to agree.

The man waited.

“...w-with all due respect, sir, and I don't mean to speak out of line-”

“You already have.”

“Continue.”

“...i-if you have the resources to study the mutagen, and to replicate the mutation process- then why not just… make… more mutants?”

The man moved his head from cocked to the side to straight up, and slowly strolled back to his chair, standing in front of it.

“I mean, what's the point of searching after these mutants if they're just wasting your time?!” His nervousness was showing through in his speech. “It would be much more time effective to simply-”

“You know nothing of my mission. You know nothing of what I have lived through. The burdens that I have chosen to carry.”

The man angled his face a final time, showing himself in the light. He wore a montsuki kimono, pitch black with red accents alongside white. His face was aged and regal, and his years of life could be seen in the reflections of his eyes. His black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail at the back of his head, elevated and elongated with red ribbon.

“I have fought in wars; seen my allies and enemies die before me. I know so much more about the cycle of life and death than you; a simple man who can hardly teach a college lecture.”

Despite having the face and body of a warrior, there wasn't a visible scar on his person.

The Shredder gingerly sat back down, relaxing his neck backward so he could rest on the back of his seat. His expression remained empty, yet his words gained a heavy weight. The weight of hundreds of years of history. The weight of thousands of stories, lost to the winds of time. The weight of an undertaking that had existed long before any of the people in the room.

The weight of just one choice.

“If there is any chance that precious prototype of yours wishes to carry on the memory of the man I had to slay to retrieve it…”

“Then its head will roll.”

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Arc 1 is over! Arc 2 will come, but I'm going to take a break to develop the timeline more clearly. There's plenty of plot points and characters I can't wait to introduce, but I need to work out how they all come together. More villains to come, more mutants, and more fun times for our favorite mutant family! :D

[mythical-illustrator]

My friend! You know I adore Helena and Fox so can I asked for 2, 7, 20, and 35 from the relationship ask?

I love those two, I was gonna say you have no idea but I think you do and thats why you sent me the ask ;)

so

2: First date.

It takes Fox and Helena way to long to go on a real date but predating might as well have been dates - it invlolved a lot of coffee lol. But when they clear the air and all the secrets are out in the open, they FINALLY go on a proper date.

The other guards have rearanged their schedule to heck and back so they could make sure the marshal commander got his dang date, Helena as made sure all her of her work was done and did a light patrol before hand.

There is a nice resturant that Fox found, and was able to get a table out- He asked Helena's aunt for advice and she helped him a lot becuase Clones aren't always welcomed everywhere. They sit down, order. Fox is wearing his nice dress uniform, Helena is wearing a proper shirt, clean pants. No oil stains.

Their food comes- Armered bank car robbery goes right by. They stare at each other, their food then the window and gapping people before Fox's com goes off. Its a very appologetic Thorn. The two of them sigh and spring to action, Thorn is pulling up with Fox's kit and Helnea changes in alley way.

There date ends with them crawlling up to a high building and sharing caf, bruised and a little beat up and just watching the sunset together.

7: What do they aruge about.

Helenas role as Spider-Woman.

Before they started dating Helena wasn't that well known to the upper levels and was a urabn legand in the lowers. The security police force "Knew" about her and warned the clones but the Senete doesn't know about her, the Jedi doesn't know about her and the rich people of upper coursant don't know about her.

Fox worries as she helps more and mroe people that she'll attracht the wrong attention and he'll be ordered to investiage her or worse, arrest her.

He doesn't want to have to choose between her and his brothers. Being A marshal commander, obeying orders, its what keeps his brothers safe.

He won't ever ask her to stop, its a part of her like being a solider is a part of him. But he does try to help her as much as possible, give her as many tools as he can so she never gets caught by the wrong sort of attetnion.

His greatest fear is being ordered to arrest her by the Channcler. Thats not an order he can ingore, bot because he choose to, but he wouldn't remember it till he was already acting upon it.

20: Whare are they like sharing a bed?

So fox is a star fish when he has the space to spread out. the safer he feels, the deeper his sleep is, I'm talking head back, open mouth doorl.

Helena is a limpet octipus. She will cling, to pillows or another warm body if they're near.

It took Fox a minute to get use her clingy ways, especally with Super stregth. But evenntally, they get use to each other and end up almost all tangled up with Helena treating herself like his own personal backpack. She says he runs warm and she can turn all her senses off when shes around him.

It takes Fox longer, and he use to just stay away and listen to her breth, but eventually he breathing lulled him to sleep and he could geta full nights rest with her around.

35: What Moment did they realize they were in love.

Unfourtinily for Fox, Helena realized she was in Love with him in the middle of being Spider-Woman. She had been working with him for a bit now, in and out of the suite. She thought him serious but carrying and new he loved his brothers more than anything. He had a surprinsingly dry sense of humor and had made her laugh more than once.

But when fighting crime, he took that job very seriously. And he was a skill fighter. They were chasing after some bounty Hunter and she went to go swing by and help him when She watched Fox hand the controls of his speeder to THorn, throw himself off into imcoming traffic and then land on their escaping prisoner. She watch him deck, daze, then taze the hunter before restling control of the speeder away from him and bring it saftely to a stop.

She almost swung into a building.

For Fox its watching her feed his brothers. She brings up coffee sure but he looked up one day and realized not only did she bring him caf, she brought all of the Command squad caf too, taylored to their own prefrences and home cooked goods, laughing and joking with each of them and knowning their names and personilties. She makes a joke with Hound, hands grizzler a treat and then turns and holds out a cup of caf to him and he realizes hes in love with this nat-born woman.

Only Thorn is a whistnessed to the pol-axed face of realization on his vod's face

he's defintly not going to let his vod run away from his feelings.

Thank you for the ask friend, I loved asking these you have no idea. Thank you for indulging my strange crossover.

Tag list:

@anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @dangraccoon @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @523rdrebel @dickarchivist

[wolfheartofshadowclan]

Spottedleaf's Love: Chapter 1

Hey everyone! What if there was a different story for Spottedleaf if she hadn't died? Would she have become a warrior to be with Fireheart? Or stuck to the medicine cat code like she was supposed to? Or maybe...

Find out what I think in the first of five chapters of my fanfic: Spottedleaf's Love. I hope you enjoy! - Wolfheart

Chapter 1

Spottedleaf shifted uncomfortably in her nest, unable to get to sleep. She’d already sorted through her bedding twice to check for stones and found none, yet she’d been tossing and turning restlessly for hours, and despite the heaviness of her eyelids couldn’t seem to be able to slip into the warm haze of sleep. Finally, she gave up and rose from her nest, giving her pelt a light shake to remove the clinging scraps of moss from it before stretching and wandering over to her herb stocks.

            It was a full moon, and the majority of ThunderClan were gathered at Fourtrees to take part of the Gathering. Bluestar had decided Spottedleaf wouldn’t be attending that night, and Spottedleaf hadn’t minded at the time, unaware that her night would be sleepless, and now she almost wished she were there so she’d at least have something to do.

            She pulled out her herbs from the cracks in the stone where she stored them and began to arrange them into careful piles outside, the shining light of the moon at its brightest illuminating the quiet medicine clearing and helping her paws as she worked. She began to remove all the herbs that were too old and made a mental list of what she needed more of. I have to find some more goldenrod… plenty of comfrey – I only gathered it last week… these marigold leaves look like they’ve been sitting here for the last two leaf-bares! Wrinkling her nose, she put the dusty marigolds aside, the frail leaves almost crumbling apart in her jaws, and decided to dispose of them the next day before carrying on.

            Soon it was almost midnight, and Spottedleaf had just finished sorting through her herbs. Perhaps I’ll have another go at sleep, she thought. After all, sleep is always the best medicine, and no cat can deny that. She padded over to her nest and settled down, tucking her paws beneath her chest and closing her eyes. Just as she was sliding into sleep, a noise roused her. Out in the clearing she heard what sounded like the light patter of paw steps, so quiet that at first she wondered if she had imagined them. She listened to them for a moment as they seemed to cross the clearing, debating whether she should go and investigate, but reluctant to leave her nest now that she finally had a chance at sleep. Eventually, her curiosity won, and she crept out of her den, wondering who was tiptoeing around the camp in the middle of the night.

            At first, she saw nothing but an empty camp, the remaining cats all asleep, but after a few moments she saw, with horror, what she could have never expected. Clawface, a ShadowClan tom, was coming out of the nursery, Frostfur’s four tiny kits swinging from his jaws desperately wailing for help, their tiny mews hardly loud enough for any cat further than she was to hear. Spottedleaf’s eyes widened with horror as the menacing brown tom stalked towards the camp exit. No! she thought desperately. I can’t let him harm them. They’re only kits!

Without thinking, she bounded over to the thorn tunnel as fast as her paws could take her, her heart racing with terror, and skidded to a halt in front of it, swinging around to face Clawface. “Leave them alone, you mange-ridden fox-heart!” she spat, trying not to let her voice tremble as she spoke. “I don’t know where you think you’re taking them!”

            Clawface reached her, curling his lip but looking only mildly surprised to see her. “Spottedleaf, isn’t it?” he growled. “I knew someone would–”

“Brightkit, you’re squishing me!” Cinderkit hissed, interrupting the tom. Brightkit stared at her, taken back. “It’s not my fault!” she protested. “It’s this big, mean–”

“Ugly!” Cinderkit added passionately. “His face is all yuck yuck!” “Right,” Brightkit agreed. “It’s this big, mean, ugly cat’s fault. Let us go!”

Clawface ignored the kits, his eyes lighting up with spiteful delight as a plan formed in his mind, making Spottedleaf feel sick. “Now, let’s keep this nice and easy, shall we?” he purred. Suddenly, he dropped Brightkit alone from his grasp, and she landed on the ground where he pinned her before she could get up. He slowly slid out his claws, spreading them like a dome over the helpless kit’s small, delicate body.

“Now, the choice is all yours,” he snarled murderously, a heartless gleam in his cold eyes. “It’s either your life… or hers.”

Spottedleaf gasped, stepping forward to help Brightkit, but Clawface pressed his paw harder against her, causing Brightkit to whimper. Slowly, she moved backwards, hoping Clawface would release his grip slightly, but the tom left his paw where it was.

“You’re a monster,” she hissed, “and so is any cat who would ever even dream of hurting kits! Only a ShadowClan coward would sneak into our camp during the middle of the night to steal our next generation of warriors without a fight. You can kill me, Clawface, but do not harm these kits.” From beneath Clawface’s paw, Brightkit’s eyes shone with awe, reflecting the moonlight. “Wow,” she breathed.

Clawface was still for a moment, and Spottedleaf searched his gaze, surprised to find a shard of uncertainty there, so she went on. “And what are you, exactly? Brokenstar’s minion? The sidekick that’s never mentioned?” She took a step forward, and she saw Clawface flinch away for a moment, then fluff out his fur, becoming double his usual size, but Spottedleaf wouldn’t back away now. “Sidekick?” he spat. “What nonsense are you talking about now? I’m a loyal ShadowClan warrior doing what my leader asked me to do, and you are nothing but an easily removed obstacle.”

“Is. That. So?” Spottedleaf hissed, letting all the ice she felt towards this cat slide into her voice. I may be a medicine cat, but when it comes to kits, I’ll teach this thistle-brain a lesson he won’t be forgetting in a hurry! She unsheathed her claws, then realised with shock that Clawface had sheathed his own and was putting down the kits, letting Brightkit free from his grip. “Spottedleaf!” Thornkit mewled, hurling himself at her the moment he touched the ground. He nuzzled his way under her belly to hide, and immediately the rest of his littermates joined him, almost making Spottedleaf feel like she was being lifted off the ground.

She stared at Clawface in astonishment. “Uh… th-thank you?” she stammered, sheathing her claws again but wondering what was happening. Had she hit her head or fallen unconscious? Was she dreaming? Clawface stared hard at her. “This time, Spottedleaf,” he growled. “But only this time.” He looked away. “I won’t be weak again.”

Suddenly, a bright ginger ball of fur burst into the clearing and spotted Clawface. “Intruder!” Firepaw yowled, loud enough to scare away all the prey in the forest. He leapt at Clawface, but the skilled fighter dodged aside. Firepaw hissed and lunged again. “Run back to ShadowClan, you flea-pelt!” Spottedleaf yowled at the brown tom. Clawface turned and looked at her one last time, glared at Firepaw, then left, sprinting out of the thorn tunnel. Spottedleaf stood there, frozen by shock. I need a sprig of thyme; luckily, we have plenty of that.

She looked at Firepaw and couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed that the apprentice had turned up, but Firepaw purred as he met her gaze. “Saved you, didn’t I?” he meowed, sounding proud. But in her heart, Spottedleaf knew what had really happened. Not why, but she vowed that she would find out.

[skyfcx]

     Ah, finally. There was some pep in his step! The little kit entered with a smile gracing his lips, namesakes rejuvenated from their bonafide slump. His conniving plot to con Amy out of an extra popsicle had sourced light laughter so simply. It fell forth carelessly upon entry, a body making its way toward the hedgehog's couch.

     Despite it all, he was still glad he spoke on the nagging matter. Sometimes it was important to remind one's self that the end of the world very rarely was as such. He knew his friends loved him, they would defy the movements and machinations of gods for each other, so it only made sense that such honest mistakes would be mended in time. Sometimes, he just had to breathe and let himself know it would all be okay.

     After all, were there problems that Amy-made popsicles couldn't fix? She calls and the fox kit responds, "Ooh! Hmm... let's shake it up a bit! Let's try a banana nut, can't say I've ever had that in popsicle form." In the meantime, the second bit of business would be addressed. When it came time for information swapping, she wanted to know about his personally-made Artificial Chaos Emeralds?

     Well then say no more! The kit was nothing if not prepared. There was a glow of power as his Artificial Emerald was retrieved, hands palming it moving forward. "Sounds like a plan! I've got questions about the use ordinary materials seem to carry in magic. It's, like, a totally foreign language to me. I mean, I could tell you the exact purpose and use case of triolic quantum drive plates, but what exactly makes up a... magic spell...? Or... something of the sort."

     —Hesitancy melds into his tone while a glove busies itself with rubbernecking the back of his skull. Yeah... could you tell he wasn't speaking from a place of familiarity when it came to this magic stuff? Truly, he means no exaggeration: it felt like a brand-new way of speaking.

     But he meant no disrespect, a face was already turning apologetic as his words fumble and lose their confidence.

     "Eugh... m-maybe you just do a basic rundown of what magic is before I start asking specifics. Clearly a crash course is in order. And I'll happily yammer on about my fake Chaos Emeralds in return. The differences between the Fake and Artificial emeralds are minor, but I'd say the intent between their creations are totally unique. The panel will take questions gladly, as well."

Oooooohhhhhh you're killing her. You're killing her with those eyes, Tails. At least he seems to have calmed down-- realized this whole thing is not worth agonizing over. Not with her. But just seeing him - seeing any of her friends - act like that, all because they thought she would be mad at them? She would consider it hilarious if it wasn't also heartbreaking.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Made even worse by the fact that she's been on the same boat as he is; overthinking her words and her actions while questioning the true meaning of someone else's too much to the point of anxiety. At least her tarot cards helped in that aspect by imparting her some insight-- but it's not, never was, and never would be a 100% certified method; it's just not how it works. "But at least I'm glad you came around to tell me instead of...you know, stewing over it all on your own. I hate to think this could've kept you up at night any longer..."

Alright, enough! Problem solved. Case closed. No more time for awkward apologies! Amy trails after Tails once he passes through her threshold and then heads straight for her freezer. Unfortunately he caught her still in the middle of cleaning up after cooking (wait, is making popsicles considered cooking or baking or...?), but at least about half of the mess has been dealt with.

"Alright, alright! Flattery won't get you anywhere-- except maybe get you a second popsicle, if that was your dastardly plan all along."

She's kidding, obviously-- you would've gotten that second popsicle anyways regardless of context. He doesn't have to force the issue anymore; they can accept that they have different interests and that those interests influence how they view they world, and as long as no one gets hurt with that fact they can make piece with it. That being said, if Tails genuinely wants to know more about magic...

"How about this: I tell you what you wanna know about magic, and you tell me a couple of things about, hmm...oh! The fake Emeralds! I never really understood how those work." Oh good, the first batch he put to freeze seemed to have hardened just in time! "Now, the REAL question is...are you gonna go for mint chocolate? Cuz I also have cherry and banana nut if you wanna switch it up, though!"

[thepenultimateword]

Scrap part 2

Part One

CW: Signs of abuse and trauma

Villain probably didn’t need to carry Henchman inside: it wasn’t as if they were injured, and with their employees covering every inch of this base, it wasn’t exactly the smartest thing to do. Too many eyes with too many intentions. But the little thing was still frozen and trembling in their seat when Villain opened the car door. They didn’t look like they were going to move an inch, so scooped into Villain’s arms again it was.

Several of their henchmen stared after them as they passed, but they ducked Henchman’s face into their shoulder until they reached the only guaranteed safe place they could think of: their own living quarters.

They worked so much, it had been necessary to make a home for themself on and off base. It wasn’t exactly a supervillain’s dream, but it was comfortable. A bed, a fridge, some warm string lights on the walls. What more did you need?

As Villain set Henchman’s little body on the edge of their bed, they expected them to make a run for it. Or at least scramble out of Villain’s reach. That would have been the natural reaction. Their stock still posture was more disturbing than any sort of melt down.

"Come here."

It was only half a test; when the henchman edged a fraction closer, Villain snatched them gruffly by the arm, shoving the clinging sleeve up their arm.

Ugly, raw rub-burns banded their wrist in vivid red. Villain didn't know how the sight could shock them when they'd already expected it, but for several seconds they were frozen--but for the light drag of their thumb over the ring.

"What is this?"

Henchman ducked their chin into their collarbone and fixed their eyes firmly on the rolled sleeve in the crook of their elbow.

"Hey," Villain repeated gruffer. "Where did this come from?"

Of course, Villain already knew; it wasn't like anyone would dare lay a hand on Supervillain's property...except apparently them.

The henchman swallowed. "Sometimes...when Supervillain hits me, I try to duck...or...or run... The ropes keep me still."

Villain stared.

They could be sick on such a statement, especially with the henchman stated it, as if they were the one in the wrong for trying to escape harm, as if they expected Villain to be in accordance with Supervillain's horrid methods.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom," they said finally. "I'm going to go get it. Stay where you are."

They probably didn't need to give that last order; when they returned, the henchman looked like they hadn't even allowed themselves to shift their weight on the mattress, let alone leave the room.

"Relax," Villain said, sitting on the bed beside them. They popped open the kit's plastic lid and pulled out a little tube of ointment. "I'm not going to hurt you if you disobey."

Now it was little scrap's turn to stare.

"What?" Villain said, rubbing a dollop of soothing ointment into the wounds and watching their charge flinch and melt within seconds.

"Other sleeve."

The henchman robotically gripped their sleeve cuff, stiffly pulling it up to their bicep where it squeezed the limb purple. Their eyes bored sharply into the side of Villain's face as they began treating the second, identical rub-burn.

"I...I don't understand," the henchman said, barely above a whisper. "Did Supervillain--"

"Supervillain doesn't know you're here."

The henchman's eyes grew wide as silver dollars. "Y-y-you shouldn't have done that!"

"And left you shivering in that closet?"

"Yes!"

Villain stopped rubbing the ointment for a moment. "You mean you wanted to be with Supervillain? You like this sort of treatment."

"I-t's not about want," Henchman sputtered. "It's about... It's that... I'm not my own to give."

"That's exactly the sort of thing that lifts any doubts about stealing you."

"But Supervillain--"

Villain lifted a finger to their lips. "Let me worry about that. In the meantime...think of this room as yours."

Henchman gaped then blushed then shrank small.

What was their-- Oh!

"I'll be staying in my apartment across town," Villain clarified, "so you won't have to worry about seeing me. Though I may stop in every day to check in on you."

Henchman nodded, a mixture of relief and anxiety warping their expression.

"Maybe once you're feeling better, and when we're sure Supervillain isn't looking for you here, we can see about getting you a job. A nice one, no visions required."

Henchman's lip trembled. "W-why?"

That was the question. Villain wasn't even sure they knew themself. They were putting everything on the line for one little scrap of a person, their job, their reputation, their life. And yet, they didn't question that they'd made the right decision. They couldn't leave the poor thing with that monster. They might have been a villain, but even they had their standards of morality.

"Because I take what I want," Villain said, making it simple.

"And...you wanted me?" It came out as more of a squeak than actual speech, and the pink rising in their cheeks burned all the brighter against their parchment pale skin.

Where were they even getting these ideas? Or was the blush just more anxiety?

Oh well, Henchman wasn't exactly wrong, even if the reason they were picturing was different from the truth. Even if the answer confused Villain as much as it did them.

Villain shrugged.

"Sure. I suppose I did."

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner

[feeder86]

Making Monsters: Part 2: Unleash the Beast

The timing of Tommy’s injury couldn’t have been better for Jimmy. Carrie’s course had taken her away on a work placement for the rest of the semester, and poor old Tommy had been left to fend for himself. As the captain of the football team, there were plenty of people who would have been more than willing to assist. However, it was Jimmy who had taken it upon himself to take the reins and do whatever he could. 

It was such a turn on going shopping for Tommy, who would present him with a list almost every day. Jimmy had such a thrill, beefing up the shopping bags with little treats he had paid for himself: a couple of packs of doughnuts, extra cookies, milkshakes and sodas. He added anything and everything he could to up the calories and carbs for Tommy who, for the first time in his life, was being forced to become more sedentary for the sake of his injury. 

It was through these constant trips that Jimmy finally started to get some sort of understanding of just how much Tommy ate each day. The guy was a walking trash can, a sinkhole; a pig. There was nothing else that could be said about the vast quantities he consumed, without care or concern for getting back in shape after the injury was healed.

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Tommy chuckled as he unpacked more sweet treats from his bags of shopping. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Jimmy smiled flirtatiously back.

“You’re trying to fatten me up so I look better in my football kit when I can play again,” he smirked back. “You want me to turn into one of those freakishly fat guys you love to date and parade around here.”

Jimmy shrugged and smirked as well. “There’s nothing wrong with me having a little of my own fun while you’re out of action,” he asserted; still allowing that flirtation to glide smoothly through his voice.

Tommy opened the pack of doughnuts and sank half of one into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure, swallowing quickly and then forced the second half in; preloading the next one in his enormous hand. He nodded at Jimmy, replying with a mouthful of the tasty treat; “It’s your money,” he shrugged apathetically. “Who am I to tell you what to do with it?”

“Dude? What the fuck?” Paul grumbled as he entered Tommy’s room a couple of weeks later. The guy looked around at the mess: the empty packaging, the bottles of beer and untidiness. Tommy himself looked unkempt and unwashed. He’d been at the beer a little while before Jimmy and Paul came over and his stomach already seemed a little bloated from the gas. At least, Jimmy assumed it was a bloat.

“It’s fucking gross in here, dude,” Paul shot, without a single sign of good humour or joviality. Tommy let off a deep, throaty burp that was almost deafening, and unbelievably long. The sound and meaning behind it, gave Jimmy an instant erection, and he laughed encouragingly. 

Paul, on the other hand, seemed genuinely disgusted. “You’ve got to get a fucking grip, man!” he mumbled. “Take a damn shower!”

Tommy shrugged it off and they began playing, but Paul’s comments and criticisms were coming in thick and fast throughout the evening. Tommy seemed beaten down by the end of it, his mood flat and defensive as the evening drew to a close; arguing with Paul and debating the supposed need for him to do a little light exercise while his injury was healing. 

“Don’t get pissy with me, just because you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” Tommy finally snapped when nothing else seemed to work.

Jimmy nodded. For the first time, he wished he could just shut Paul up. Tommy was having a little fun embracing a new, temporary lifestyle. What was so wrong about that?

On the other hand, Paul was hurt and not particularly in the best frame of mind to be socialising. It happened every time. He fell hard for girls, and when they disappointed him, he found it hard to pick himself back up again. 

However, Tommy was never going to embrace that secret side of himself with guys like Paul berating him the moment he stepped out of line. Jimmy thought hard on the matter all night, wondering what there was to do about this. He could hardly stop Paul from having his opinion on the matter, any more than he could sort out the guy’s love life for him. 

But, maybe, he thought, feeling more excited as the idea built up momentum in his mind. Maybe there was something he could do after all…

Edith was a beautiful girl, everyone knew that. Plus, she was now on the market for a ‘normal’ guy; someone away from her kinks and not her usual type. It was the most devious and cunning Jimmy had ever been, setting up situations for them to bump into each other and meet. He praised and upsold Edith or Paul in turn. But, best of all, it had worked like a charm. Before long, the ‘new girl’ Paul had taken an interest in, had suddenly become his girlfriend. 

“Paul’s not coming tonight,” Jimmy smiled, passing Tommy a beer and a pack of potato chips. “He’s out with Edith.”

Tommy chuckled, in the way all guys do when one of their buddies gets a new girlfriend. “So I spent twenty minutes cleaning up my room for nothing?” he joked, pulling more of his snacks out from his closet and scattering them on the floor for later. “At least I don’t need to pretend to be civilised in front of you,” he scoffed.

Jimmy gave a conspiratorial grin back. “No, but Carrie will be back in a couple of weeks. So, this whole slob thing you’ve got going on…” he pointed teasingly at Tommy, “...you may need to rethink it.”

“Oh, she’s already got an idea of what’s been going on whilst she’s been away,” Tommy laughed, dishing out the cards. “We video call a couple of nights a week. She thinks my face has gone fatter!”

Jimmy chuckled to himself, knowing that he was more than a little responsible for the extra puffiness to Tommy’s cheeks. It was subtle, but Carrie was certainly right; something was altered about Tommy’s face. “How do you think training is going to be when you have to go back to that?”

Tommy huffed. “I don’t know, man. I’ve hardly moved at all since the injury. It’ll probably take me some time to get back into it. No doubt Paul will have something to say about that…” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t worry so much about Paul,” Jimmy grinned. He was so proud of himself, setting the guy up with Edith. It took all of his effort not to boast about what a cunning bit of manipulative play he had achieved. Edith claimed that she was retired from being a feeder, but Jimmy knew better than that. The girl’s kinks were so deep and powerful; so ingrained and implicit, there was no way she would be able to restrain herself from working some of her magic on Paul. That was, after all, the genius of his plan.

“Why not?” Tommy questioned, sensing from Jimmy’s tone that there was more to the story. “You heard him, getting on his high horse about me not exercising.”

“Oh, nothing,” Jimmy replied coyly. “It’s just, you know, guys always gain a few pounds when they start a new relationship. Plus, according to Daryl, he’s already missed two training sessions this week. I wouldn’t bet on him being quite so sprightly by the time you’re both back on the pitch…”

Jimmy had to admit that, when he was right about something, he was really right. By the time Tommy’s injury was just about healed, the effects of dating a feeder for over a month were truly taking their toll on poor Paul. He seemed thicker somehow, like his face and stomach had been pumped with a little air, and his clothes seemed less complimentary than they had before. Not that Jimmy saw him all that often these days. The boy was besotted with his new girl, slowly drifting away from the dorm antics and more often found over in Edith’s building.

“You must be pleased with yourself,” Jimmy smirked as he popped in to see Edith. “I just passed Paul on the stairs…”

Edith looked away and pretended not to know about anything Jimmy was referring to, even trying to change the conversation. But as Jimmy pressed, she finally relented. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to cook for my new boyfriend,” she explained, with only a mild hint of irritation in her voice.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re doing it? You’re feeding him those super fattening meals you used to make for Drake?” Jimmy laughed. “No wonder the poor boy is looking so bloated!”

Edith bit her bottom lip in the same manner that she always did when aroused. “You really think he’s looking bloated?” she asked excitedly.

“He seems pretty smitten by you,” Jimmy continued. “I doubt he’s even noticed how out of shape you’re making him.”

“I didn’t intend to do this,” Edith shot back in her defence. “It’s just, when he eats, I get so horny. And when I get horny, he gets horny. It’s created this strange cycle that I don’t think either of us completely understand.”

“Well, whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it,” Jimmy encouraged, wickedly. “It’s about time some of the guys on that football team gained a few pounds.” He thought about Tommy and how much more relaxed he had become about his weight and eating habits. “And…” he continued, unable to help the grin coming to his face “...I’m hoping that one little porker might lead to another…”

Tommy had returned to football training full of determination, despite the surprisingly distended arch of his muscular middle. The boy had clearly been enjoying himself over the period. But, there he was now, dressed in his workout gear and ready to shed the pounds that he had gained since that fateful night in training last November; indulging himself as he had done. On a man as large as Tommy it was hard to tell what the damage could have been: thirty pounds, forty? Would the slight muscle loss counteract it? Would there be any difference on the scale at all?

“My, my, my! How the mighty have fallen!” Jimmy teased, seeing Tommy wincing a little as he trotted into the kitchen, holding his hip. “You’re like an old man!”

Tommy seemed incapable of answering until he’d sat himself down in the chair. Only then did his sparky wit return. “Shut up!” he chuckled. “Why don’t you come along to football training and then we’ll see how you cope? I’ve not been for nearly three months, remember.”

Unable to help himself, Jimmy reached in and poked Tommy’s stomach, squishing his finger into the surprisingly soft middle. “And you’d never guess either!” he teased sarcastically.

“Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll soon have this off,” Tommy stated with absolute certainty. “At least I’m better than Paul. He didn’t even show up last night. That girlfriend of his has got him wrapped around her little finger.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement. Edith was definitely having some fun with the boy. “Well, I don’t think you would be so desperate to get back in shape if you didn’t have Carrie nagging you.”

“She’s definitely made her feelings very clear,” Tommy mumbled, rubbing his meatier stomach.

“Exactly!” Jimmy nodded. “Imagine having someone who liked you having a little more padding on that butt of yours.”

Tommy jumped in confusion, not even taking in Jimmy’s subtle hint that Edith might have her own feeder tendencies. “My butt’s just the same!” he protested; too lazy to get up and feel it himself, despite an obvious inclination to do so.

Jimmy smiled and shook his head. “I’ve been feeding you doughnuts every day for months. Trust me, your butt is definitely feeling the effects…”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Tommy smiled, shaking his head and chuckling.

“Of course I am,” Jimmy nodded, getting Tommy’s huge breakfast bowl from the cupboard and placing it down on the table in front of the sore athlete. He smiled, then tipped the huge box of sugary cereal inside, filling it with as much as he could. Tommy should have laughed, told him to stop, or pulled the bowl away; but he didn’t. Instead, he stared with interest directly into Jimmy’s eyes, quietly enjoying every second of it.

By the middle of Spring, Tommy was the campus hero. Despite Paul’s gradual abandonment of the squad, Tommy had single-handedly seen to it that the college football team had performed the most remarkable of turnarounds. From the bottom of the pack, the team were now comfortably sitting within the top quarter of the league, having not lost a game in three months. “Coach says, whatever I’m doing, I’ve just got to keep doing it!” Tommy grinned, getting himself a large tub of ice cream out of the freezer. 

You could really see it these days, that extra weight. The way Tommy’s cheeks puffed up, and the softening of his strong jawline. His body was built for football now. Even with a shirt on, it was obvious that the abs were long gone; replaced with a meaty stomach that gave him the appearance of a man a good few years older than he was. ‘Dadbod’ was the term his girlfriend used to describe it; for while his arms and shoulders advertised how strong and warrior-like Tommy was, his bloated, slightly arching middle spoke of a man with a considerable appetite.

But Tommy’s coach had learned, along with the rest of the team, that his star didn’t need to be built for speed. He just needed to be able to flatten the competition. Being big, strong and, most importantly, intimidating, was where Tommy’s true talents lay. That was why Carrie bit her tongue as Tommy dug his massive spoon into the ice cream. Jimmy could see it, that urge to stop him, to argue and complain at how easily her boyfriend was sliding into these bad habits. However, Tommy was also the best known guy on campus now; the guy that other guys looked up to, with an effortless masculinity that girls secretly loved. Being with Tommy gave Carrie what she desperately craved: to be seen as relevant in this strange student world. On a campus that was obsessed with the college football team, Tommy was Carrie’s gateway to being at the centre of their shared, dysfunctional universe.

As for Jimmy, he couldn’t have been more pleased, or turned on, by the unfolding transformation of one of his best friends. Tommy was such a sexy guy, but to see him packing on so much extra mass through his overeating… it sent Jimmy into overdrive whenever he was around him.

“Well, I never thought I would see the day that Paul would give up football. But, somehow, you managed it,” Jimmy chuckled as he had Edith alone with him for the first time in months.

Edith smiled sweetly at just the mention of Paul’s name. “We just don’t want to be parted from each other,” she stated with a sickening sweetness in her voice.

“Have you told him you’re making him fatter yet?” Jimmy asked, teasingly.

Edith frowned at Jimmy’s bluntness. “I’m not making him fatter,” she countered.

Jimmy laughed at that. “Well, you’re sure as hell doing something to the poor boy!” he pressed on. “I’ve never seen a pot belly develop so quickly!”

Despite herself, Edith gave a little smile. “I just like looking after him, that’s all. He loves how attentive I am. He says so himself! He tells everyone how perfect I am for him!”

“Does that mean you’re heading back with him to meet his folks this summer?” Jimmy asked her.

“Actually, he’s coming to spend the summer with me instead.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes theatrically but delighted in the plans nonetheless. “Oh, yes, of course!” he continued teasing his friend. “A whole summer to overfeed him! With you around, he’ll be waddling around campus by Fall!”

Edith brushed Jimmy’s comments away, knowing just as well as he did that Jimmy was simply jealous. He’d have done almost anything to have his own fat boy to overindulge. But Jimmy’s problem was a simple one: There was only one fat boy that he wanted.

The third year was in full swing before the boys all managed to get together. Already, Tommy had amassed a new following of freshers; young, muscular guys who wanted to join the football team and looked up to Tommy, with his massive height, muscle and bulk, like some sort of god. Jimmy noticed him eating lavishly in front of these guys, like he was showing off how ridiculously much he could eat and still be the best player on the team. He was still dating one of the hottest girls on campus and had friends in every corner of the university. What wasn’t there to be impressed with?

The boys were a rowdy bunch this year; overly excited by beer and the freedom to stay up partying. But without much effort at all, Tommy managed to out-do them all in pretty much any conceivable way. No one could come close to defeating him at an arm wrestle, or outwit him with their humour. Tommy knew more about football than any one of them and, to the guys’ astonishment, could take down more bottles of beer than any of them could even imagine.

The night was raucous and unruly. Jimmy cringed at the thought of those trying to sleep in the rooms above or below them, for the guys’ cheers and shouts went on well into the early hours; only ending when Tommy won his final beer chug of the night,sending the other guy off, racing for a bathroom to throw up in. 

Tommy looked up at Jimmy from his chair at the table. As usual, they were the last two standing; just as it had been since day one of their first year. They shared a smirk; the familiarity that they had built up together; always knowing that the evening would end up like this. “These guys just have no idea how to party, do they?” Tommy joked, staring around the now empty kitchen space at three in the morning. 

Jimmy hadn’t been this drunk since his first year. The room was only one shot away from spinning all around him. He stared, as if unable to control his gaze any longer, straight at Tommy’s gut. “Jeez! I’ve never seen you look so fucking fat and bloated before!” he heard himself marvel.

Tommy chuckled in delight and slapped his tight, solid middle, packed full of the beer and snacks he had ruthlessly been consuming the entire evening. “Beer does a belly good!” he joked back, rubbing the ball-like shape and looking down at it with a masculine pride.

“No, seriously,” Jimmy pressed, sensing that Tommy was making light of it. “Your belly… it’s getting huge! I think it’s now growing beyond even your control!”

Tommy looked up, directly into Jimmy’s eyes. “Oh, yeah?” he smiled, undoubtedly encouraging Jimmy to go on. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s just…” Jimmy began, unable to contain that breathless lust in his voice as he spoke, “...you’re getting so fucking round!”

Tommy grinned and rubbed his gut, as if teasing Jimmy with something he could never have. “Two hundred and ninety pounds!” he whispered, almost seductively. But the rubbing was clearly upsetting the balance somewhere, making Tommy sit up, open his jaws and give off the most tremendous burp; as if it had been building and waiting the entire evening to be unleashed. When he was done, the man leaned back, looking more smug than ever before.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Jimmy teased. “But, judging by what I’ve seen tonight: the amount of food and beer you’ve taken down, the fact that you hardly got off your overfed ass all night… I’d say you’re only a few months away from being too fat to even play football.”

The comment seemed to catch Tommy by surprise and the self-satisfied smirk dropped off his face entirely.

Jimmy moved closer, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through his system, and stabbed an outstretched finger into Tommy’s gut, bloated and hard from the sheer quantities that had been consumed. Tommy simply watched him, his face expressionless but for the raising of a single, unimpressed eyebrow. All evening he had been respected like a king by the other athletes. Now, here was this skinny, jumped-up gay guy stabbing him in his gut and telling him how fat he was getting. “Definitely!” Jimmy nodded. “A few more months of this and you’re getting kicked off the team, for sure!”

“You think I’m just going to turn into some fat boy?” Tommy asked, unable to hide the slight spark of excitement in his voice.

“Oh. you’re already a fat boy!” Jimmy teased, poking a finger into Tommy’s stomach fat once again, but also fishing out his cell phone to find something he had stored on there. “I found a picture the other day. It’s what I think you’re going to look like in a couple of years from now; when college is over and your football days are long behind you. It’ll just be you and that awesome, greedy appetite of yours…”

With that, Jimmy turned around his cell phone to show Tommy the image. It had taken months time to find it online; one of the exact pictures he had seen on Tommy’s computer, of a ginormous overweight guy: ball-bellied, wide and at least five hundred pounds of pure blubber.

Tommy’s reaction was immediate. His eyes bulged to an enormous size as he took in the picture that he knew so well. He made a noise that seemed entirely out of his control: part moan of pleasure, part expression of absolute shock. His hands twitched, with both of them sliding onto his thighs and getting dangerously close to his crotch.

“You think that’s what I’m going to become?” Tommy asked. His voice was so much softer and lust-filled than Jimmy had ever heard it.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Jimmy grinned, leaning in a little more to whisper into Tommy’s ear. “And I can’t fucking wait to see it!”

Another moan escaped from Tommy’s throat and the boy suddenly turned, grabbing the front of Jimmy’s shirt to pull him down into him. Their lips puckered and they shared the most erotic and action-packed kiss either of them had ever experienced. Almost two years of sexual tension and the pair of them were moving fast, pushing their tongues deeply into the other’s mouth. Hands were roaming everywhere and it was only when Tommy stood up that Jimmy could once again appreciate the scale of the man he had just seduced. They continued madly kissing as they left the kitchen, heading straight for Jimmy’s room, which was two doors closer down the corridor. 

Tommy seemed to be the one leading it all. Once safely inside, the pair stripped down to nothing at all and fell down onto Jimmy’s single bed. 

The alcohol fuddled Jimmy’s memory from that point onwards.From what he could remember of the sex, he came pretty hard. Tommy did too, judging by the moans he was making. Led by Tommy, it had been fairly unimaginative; a typical straight guy, deciding to head straight to the sixty-nine position and stay there until they both came. The feeling sent them both to sleep very soon afterwards, and after only a couple of hours of rest, Jimmy awoke to find that Tommy had already gone. 

It hadn’t been a dream though, Jimmy realised with a sudden erection at the memories of what had taken place. He could still smell the enormous football player on his sheets and remembered the feeling of his impressive hardness in his mouth. He came at least twice more, before drifting back off to sleep until lunchtime.

Jimmy was determined that it wouldn’t be awkward. Tommy’s disappearance in the middle of the night was not the best of signs, and Jimmy wasn’t naive enough to believe that Tommy would suddenly leave Carrie, quit football and want to be with him full-time. The best he could hope for was that Tommy wouldn’t do the typically embarrassed tactic of ignoring him altogether. That was why he didn’t give the guy a chance to even try it. He burst into the kitchen with a smile on his face, chatting with everyone and treating Tommy in just the same way as he always did. “Eating again, I see…” he teased in front of everyone. “You’re going to cause an earthquake the next time you go for a goal!” 

If Tommy had seemed sheepish at all, Jimmy’s breezy, laid back approach hopefully demonstrated that, in his view, nothing had changed between them. But of that, he was completely wrong. Everything had changed.

“I’ve got a whole cheesecake in my room,” Tommy messaged Jimmy one evening later that week.

“Good for you,” Jimmy replied back, smiling with the knowledge of why Tommy was telling him, and what he was probably thinking about doing about it.

“Come over and feed it to me,” Tommy messaged back instantly. “Carrie’s not coming here tonight.”

Leaving his essay work, Jimmy checked himself in the mirror, frowning at how unruly his short hair had been that day. He opened his door and crept across the corridor, seeing that Tommy had left his own door open to save him having to knock. Music was playing  at a decent volume; heavy metal with deep, manly voices growling out of the speakers. Jimmy laughed when he saw the size of the huge cheesecake and the excited, horny grin on Tommy’s face. They kissed as soon as the door was closed, which allowed Jimmy to feel just how turned on and delighted the large athlete was to be doing this.

The big man slipped off his shirt and practically bounced onto the bed. He’d already padded up his pillows against the headboard, and as he sat up, waiting expectantly, the most delicious roll of fat fell over the buckle of his belt.

“Come feed me!” Tommy sang. He pinched the softened, most blubbery part of his belly fat, jiggling it gently. “Make my fat belly grow!”

Jimmy grinned and removed his own shirt, pleased that Tommy made a sound of appreciation as he did so. Picking up the plate with the enormous cheesecake on, Jimmy sat himself down straight onto Tommy’s crotch. He could feel how hard the guy was but decided not to comment, for his own arousal was clearly obvious and his heart was beating a mile a minute with the anticipation of what would come next.

It started in a fairly civilised manner. Jimmy dug the fork in and delivered chunks of the extremely fattening dessert straight into Tommy’s open mouth. Each time, Tommy moaned with pleasure and smiled as if he had been waiting for a moment such as this his entire life. The conversation was almost normal, with Tommy explaining about football training and other scandalous news about some of the guys they both knew.

“Well, I certainly feel like I’m doing my bit for the team right now,” Jimmy chuckled, placing another chunk of the cheesecake directly onto Tommy’s tongue.

“What you’re doing is pretty much the opposite of what the team needs,” Tommy chuckled back, enjoying that fact. “You said it yourself; you want to make me too fat to play football at all!”

Jimmy smirked. “I did say something like that, didn’t I?” he teased, trying to push through the fog of memories from their night together. “I don’t understand why you keep playing. Just quit and get fat if that’s what you want?”

“My dad was the one who got me into football,” Tommy explained. “I was a greedy kid; always eating. He told me he didn’t want the embarrassment of having a fatty for a son, so he tried to channel me into sport instead.” A cheeky, boyish smile filled Tommy’s face as he grabbed his fresh, soft belly fat and gave it another little jiggle. “It was a good short-term fix!”

As Jimmy sat over Tommy’s crotch, he could feel the guy’s hardness throb as their conversation returned once more to his inevitable fattening. “So, you’re absolutely serious then? You really do want to get properly big and fat?”

Tommy moaned once again and inhaled deeply, as if Jimmy’s words both excited and calmed him at the same time. “More than anything!” he nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, for as long as I can remember.”

Jimmy simply nodded back, deciding that Tommy didn’t need to know that he had hacked into his computer and found the pictures of the massively obese guys Tommy had been dreaming about becoming. “Well, in that case…” he smirked, throwing the fork down. “I think we need to get serious about this cheesecake!”

Tommy's eyes were wide with awe as he watched Jimmy dig his hand into the dessert and scoop it into his palm. He seemed to know what was coming next, as Jimmy moved his hand closer to Tommy’s obediently open mouth and pushed it inside, being sure to smear some over the boy’s lips.

Tommy moaned louder still. “Mmm! Yes!” he mumbled. “Feed me!”

It was the best game Jimmy had ever played. Each time, he tried to get more and more into his hand. He pushed it onto the horny boy and sat back waiting the few seconds it took Tommy to get it down. Jimmy expected Tommy to start tiring, but it seemed as if the opposite was happening. The smaller the remaining cake became, the hungrier the man seemed to become for it, and the more excited he was to finish.

Feeling how hard Tommy was beneath him, Jimmy knew exactly what he wanted to do. Taking off his pants and sliding protection and lubricant onto Tommy’s raging boner, Jimmy didn’t resume the feeding until he was sat directly on Tommy’s erection and could feel the big guy inside of him. Now Tommy’s eyes were closed, as if he was barely able to function with this much pleasure pulsing through his body.

Just like last time, Jimmy knew it wouldn’t take Tommy long to come. He’d already had to slow down his riding movement in order to prevent the athlete getting overly excited before the cheesecake was finished. Only once the final crumbs were being sprinkled on Tommy’s face, did Jimmy finally work his butt to make Tommy finish. The boy groaned and moaned like he was almost in pain; the intensity of the orgasm must have been so very much for him. His body seemed to writhe and the man even lifted his strong hips clean off the bed, with Jimmy too, just as the pleasure was peaking. 

“You did well,” Jimmy smiled, climbing off and getting his clothes back on.

“Thanks,” said an utterly spent Tommy, sprawled on his bed, with remnants of the cheesecake still smeared across his face, like he was some sort of gluttonous clown.

Jimmy had no intention of lingering. He couldn’t think of anything worse than the awkward, post-orgasm chit chat to finish the evening. Better to head off now and leave the moment as it was. “Well, give me a call the next time you need stuffing,” he smiled.

“I will,” Tommy promised, still not getting up and simply lying there like his stomach was a lead weight. But then the man seemed to come to life a little and he said something that Jimmy was not expecting in the slightest: “How about next Tuesday?”

It was strange, and Jimmy wasn’t sure that anyone would have believed him if he said it, but his new, highly sexual relationship with Tommy hadn’t changed things in the slightest; not outwardly at least. It was like living in two separate worlds: one where Tommy was just an ordinary buddy, and another where they would sneak over to each others’ rooms to indulge in their shared kinks. Tommy was still the campus hero, and although his stomach did swell slightly over the first half of the year, it wasn’t so dramatic that people were talking about it, and it hadn’t stopped him from being an absolute bulldozer on the field.

If Jimmy reflected back on that time, the first weekend after the holidays had been his absolute favourite. Tommy had arrived back in college carrying a few extra pounds. When he took his shirt off, the fat was obvious in his love handles and stomach. For the first time, it was starting to really jiggle as Tommy walked and the feeling was obviously turning him on more than ever. His kinks were being turned up into superdrive. He’d taken more risks, feeling Jimmy up in the kitchen the moment they were alone together; almost enjoying the thrill of nearly being caught. He wanted time with Jimmy; real time, not just a rushed hour at the end of an evening when there was nothing else to do. “Pretend that you’re ill this weekend so no one expects you to go out. Just stay in your room. I’m going to tell Carrie and the rest of the guys that I’m heading home for the weekend.”

Jimmy could feel how impossibly hard Tommy’s erection was as he pushed his hips up against him and concocted the sneaky plan.

“I want you to feed me all weekend. Don’t stop until my gut looks ready to explode!” he whispered, suddenly needing to pull away as he heard one of the guys coming down into the kitchen area. Tommy turned his back to them, pretending to be looking for something in the cupboard so that they didn’t spot the huge bulge in his pants. When the person who had walked in wasn’t looking, he turned to Jimmy and nodded his head, silently asking if he was up for it.

Jimmy nodded back; his head already filing with ideas for the things he wanted to do. In that moment, his heart felt ready to burst. A whole weekend with Tommy! He gazed at that big, beefy, muscular butt and swooned. This weekend, it would all be his!

The quiet knock at the door came at about seven o’clock that Friday evening. Tommy strolled into the room, determined that no one should see or hear him. He carried a large bag, as if he really was heading home for the weekend. His face was full of excitement and he bent down to unzip it before he had even stopped to properly greet Jimmy. The guy had obviously been stocking up all week, for it was full to the brim with snacks and treats of the most fattening and delicious kind, alongside his weight gain powders and a pair of bathroom scales. 

Jimmy chuckled, for he too had been preparing all week as well. Under his bed were a whole load of similar items and the refrigerator in the kitchen was just as packed.

“Mmm! I’m such a spoiled piggy!” Tommy swooned, pulling Jimmy in for the most romantic of smooches. It was the most relaxed kiss they had ever shared, with no time limits or concerns. “Shall we watch a movie?”

As the hours ticked by, it became harder and harder to concentrate on anything other than Tommy’s insane capacity. It was only Friday and already the greedy guy had already put a serious dent in the stash of food. With each mouthful, the pair of them got more and more turned on. Jimmy wanted nothing more than to tear off their clothes and go at it, but he knew that this was all important foreplay, and an opportunity for Tommy to see what he was really capable of. He allowed himself the chance to slip his hand under Tommy’s t-shirt and rub that slowly swelling middle; stopping occasionally to pinch the softer love handles at the sides. Tommy seemed to appreciate it, moaning softly and bringing his sugary lips over to meet Jimmy’s.

It was only when Tommy really started to feel the strain that they both became incapable of holding back. Jimmy found himself down in Tommy’s crotch, trying to give the slowest and most erotic blow job of his life. He could see Tommy spasming occasionally and breathing heavily as he continued to gorge himself. 

The time marched on and still neither of them had come. Jimmy snuck into the kitchen for more supplies, mixing up a calorie shake for Tommy to sip on during a short break. The breaks were important; Tommy had a typically masculine bravado, not wanting to show any weakness or sign that he was getting full. Instead, Jimmy had to be in tune with him, picking up those signs when it was time to pause.

It was gone midnight by the time they were far too horny to do anything but come. Jimmy sat up and lowered his butt down onto Tommy’s crotch, wincing only slightly as the heavy guy’s thick erection entered him. It was the way tonight was always going to end; the position that Tommy had grown to love best, as he lay there, fat and bloated and watching Jimmy ride him like a bull. It also left at least one of Jimmy’s hands free to continue pressing doughnuts into Tommy’s greedy and surprisingly submissive mouth, as he was brought closer and closer to the edge. It played out with incredible effectiveness, but also worked perfectly to muffle the sounds of Tommy’s moans when he came at last, opening his eyes wide, almost in fear at the intensity of the orgasm he was experiencing. 

That night, they would lie together for the first time, holding each other on that cramped single bed, more content than they had ever been in their lives.

Unlike the prolonged and intimate sex of the Friday night, Saturday was filled with several rounds of kinkiness, in multiple different positions. The day was about pure indulgence in every single way imaginable. The two chatted for hours about anything and everything, discussed their shared kinks and inevitably fell back into each other's arms. They binged on tv shows and movies, as their bodies recharged ready for the inevitable next round. 

Jimmy had been intrigued by Tommy��s quietly submissive side and was rather surprised when his suggestion of using an old pair of handcuffs for the next feeding went down extraordinarily well. With his hands behind his back and bulging tummy out, Tommy ate with incredible enthusiasm; his crotch highlighting just how arousing the situation was for him. It allowed Jimmy to learn a little more about how to play to Tommy’s desires: the words that he liked, the teasing that brought him the most pleasure. In fact, the whole experience worked incredibly well for them both, with a repeated, longer session playing out the very next day.

The pair came for the very last time that weekend as Tommy stepped on his scales and saw the numbers climb up to three hundred and twenty-two pounds. Even though he was stuffed and artificially bloated with food, he had never before seen the scales read so high. It sent them both into a frenzy of lust as they both came, gazing at the reflection of Tommy’s thick and overfed form in the long mirror.

The whole weekend had been the best time of Jimmy’s life and he felt himself becoming incredibly sad as he watched Tommy getting dressed to leave; the large underwear sliding back onto his overfed, bulbous butt for the first time since Friday night. Carrie had been messaging him throughout the day to ask when he would be back and Tommy could delay her no more. He thanked Jimmy for everything in the most genuine and heartfelt manner imaginable, then slipped out, back into the real world once more.

“Carrie wants us to spend Spring Break with her folks,” Tommy grumbled. “It’s my last year in college and that’s what she wants to do. I might as well sign up to become a monk! I’m a three hundred and twenty pound guy and her family all eat like a bunch of rabbits. I’m going to be fucking starving!” He looked at Jimmy, knowing full well that he would have considerably better plans for himself. 

He wasn’t wrong. Jimmy had it all mapped out, from start to finish: parties, bars, clubs and street events with plenty of people, from several of the social groups he was mixed up with here at college.

“You’re welcome to ditch Carrie and come along with me instead?” Jimmy asked, hopefully.

Tommy didn’t take the bait. The casual nature of their arrangement had been fine for Jimmy up until then.  But, as the months went by and the pair of them were still sneaking around behind Carrie’s back, Jimmy was starting to feel a little confused by it all. The way Tommy talked about his girlfriend sometimes, he wasn’t even convinced that the guy even liked her. They certainly didn’t have anything in common. So, why hadn’t he ended things? 

Jimmy didn’t need Tommy to come out and announce their love to the entire campus, but having Carrie gone would have made things so much easier for them. They wouldn’t have had to wait until the nights when Carrie didn’t go to see Tommy, or fake going home for a weekend, just so that they could spend some time together. Tommy had told him how satisfied Jimmy made him, and how no one else on the planet had ever been able to make him come like Jimmy could. The pair could chat for hours and were alike in so many ways, yet it was Carrie who got to call Tommy her own.

“Seriously, forget Carrie and come along,” Jimmy tried, pressing a little harder. “I’ve found some awesome eating places and there will be so much beer on offer, there’s no chance you won’t be packing on at least a couple more pounds…” He rubbed Tommy’s belly in the way that he liked most, highlighting the curvaceous smoothness of it and patting where they both knew it had become the softest.

Tommy smiled wickedly. “I like that idea!” he chuckled, giving Jimmy a kiss. “But Carrie’s my girlfriend,” he stated, turning to look seriously at him. “I mean… for now at least.”

Jimmy adored these little hints that Tommy would one day finish with Carrie. He lived and breathed off them. They gave him life, and an opportunity to plan out a future that he could one day have with the man of his dreams.

“So, I suppose I’d best do what she wants; as much as I’ll hate it!” Tommy added.  “Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Sorry, I had hoped to clean up a little before you came over, “ Edith explained, quickly scurrying around to pick up a load of Paul’s things, as well as food packaging, plates and cups. Jimmy hadn’t seen Paul in weeks, but he eyed the guy’s empty pants draped over the end of Edith’s bed and his eyes boggled at what appeared to be a fairly considerable waist size on them.

“Things are still going good with Paul then?” he asked, watching Edith try to make space in her room.

“Oh, yes!” Edith gushed. “We’re putting a deposit down on a little apartment for when we finish college. “I’m getting a job with my Aunt’s company. Paul is moving to be with me, and so that he can look for work too.”

“That’s great,” Jimmy replied, feeling that pit of dread and jealousy in his stomach. The end of college was approaching so fast now and he hadn’t made any plans at all yet. 

Getting a job, renting somewhere, these were all issues he could deal with. But what about his relationship with Tommy? What was going to happen there? Would it all just… fizzle out? He couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“So, is Paul going to be living the life of luxury when you’re earning a wage?” His eyes kept travelling back to those empty pants on the end of the bed. Just how big were they?

Jimmy listened to it all, until he could hardly take any more. He’d never heard Edith so gushing and almost smug. She painted a perfect picture of their life together and how it would unfold. Jimmy should have been happy for her, but the insecurities inside felt like a nest of rats gnawing away at him from the inside. “Alright, alright!” he grumbled after he’d finally lost his patience when Edith started talking about how her and Paul had even discussed getting married. “Your life is perfect. I get it!”

Edith was silent and clearly offended. “I’m sorry if I’m boring you,” she shot back sarcastically.

Jimmy sighed, trying to get a handle on his sudden anger. “No, you’re not boring me,” he began, apologetically. “It’s just…” he started, wanting to tell Edith everything about his secret relationship with Tommy. For months, years, he hadn’t told a soul about any of the things he had learned, or how their friendship had evolved into the beautifully frustrating love affair that it was today.  He took a breath to begin, when the sight of Paul’s pants caught his attention once more.

Getting up from his seat, Jimmy marched across the room and unfolded them, searching for the label inside that would tell him what size they were.

“What are you doing?” Edith complained, snatching her boyfriend’s pants from Jimmy in annoyance. 

“You’ve got Paul in 40” pants?” Jimmy spat, in shock, awe and disgust. “You’re talking about marrying the poor guy, convincing him that you love him, and he doesn’t even know that you’re purposefully just trying to make him fat? You should be ashamed of yourself!” He marched once more across the room to the door, until Edith’s loud and angry voice made him stop.

“Is that really what you think?” she asked. “You think I could make this sort of connection with someone without him knowing about this side of me?”

Jimmy was silent.

“Of course he knows. It took him about two weeks of dating me before he figured out I was into larger guys. I’m not exactly subtle, and everyone knows I was dating Drake before him.”

“He knows?” Jimmy asked, flabbergasted by the revelation. “So he’s getting bigger for you on purpose?”

Edith shook her head. “No. He’s not into it in that way. But he likes seeing me turned on and doesn’t mind eating extra calories a few days a week if it makes me happy. He accepts me for who I am… warts and all!”

Jimmy felt terrible. Now he could see why Edith was so happy. Her relationship really was perfect; not a secret between them. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered, realising how much of an idiot he had made of himself, “I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to… I’m just stressed out because… if I’m honest, there’s this guy…”

“Well, I’m just glad that I can finally see what you really think of me,” Edith shouted, not interested in the slightest about hearing what he had to say; opening the door widely and not closing it again until Jimmy was on the other side of it.

Everywhere Jimmy went, people were buzzing about finishing college. Tommy’s final football game was coming up and, between training and Carrie, Jimmy hadn’t had the chance to be intimate with him in some time. He’d lost weight; Jimmy could see it in Tommy’s face, making him feel even more insecure; as if he was starting to lose track of Tommy completely.

“I got on to that work experience placement in the UK,” explained a girl from the floor below as they all started talking about the summer. “There were a few of us who applied from this college and, amazingly, two of us got on!”

“Oh, my buddy Tommy was interested in doing that,” Jimmy nodded. “He didn’t apply in the end though. His girlfriend was dead against it,” he sighed, never hiding his dislike of Carrie these days.

“Tommy from upstairs?” asked the girl, spreading her arms out to imitate Tommy’s extreme muscular bulk.. “No, he applied. He was successful too. We’re actually going together; working for a multinational finance company in London!”

The girl squeaked in excitement at her own good fortune, but Jimmy jumped straight in on her, lunging like a tiger. “Tommy’s going to work in London for a year?” he questioned sharply, feeling a rush of shock. How did he not know this? “But what about his girlfriend? Tommy said she wasn’t willing to let him go!”

“Who? Do you mean that girl, Carrie?” she asked. “They broke up, like a month ago.”

“Tommy and Carrie broke up?” Jimmy blasted, stunning the girls around him with a sudden increase in volume. 

“Where the hell have you been?” one of the other girls laughed. “How did you not know? That’s such old news.”

Jimmy felt cold at the idea that he had been lied to by Tommy. Only last night he had sent a message asking the guy when he was free to hang out; quickly dismissed by Tommy, claiming that he was spending time with Carrie. But why? What was going on? Had things changed between them? 

All those insecurities boiled within him. At first he felt angry. Then he felt sad and confused. But there was only one person who could give him the answers he so desperately needed.

Tommy’s room was already looking bare. The posters had been ripped from the walls and most of his things were in boxes. He was leaving tomorrow, missing the last game of the season, and this was the first Jimmy was hearing about it!

“So who ended it? You, or her?” Jimmy asked. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t get upset, but already he could feel his voice cracking.

“She did,” Tommy finally admitted, accepting that his lies had been uncovered. “You know what Carrie’s like. Now college is ending, she doesn’t want to be tethered to someone who isn’t any use to her anymore.”

“I know how that feels,” Jimmy cried. “I’m no use to you either, now that you’re off to the UK. So you just thought you’d lie and ignore me for weeks?” He took a deep breath and suddenly realised Tommy’s motives all along. “You were never really into Carrie, were you?” he asked accusingly. “She was just a useful excuse to keep me at bay. To stop me from trying to make things more serious between us. Go on, admit it!” he demanded.

Tommy was silent. 

That was all Jimmy needed. In a simple, heartbreaking moment, all of his worst fears and dreadful suspicions were confirmed. All the late night doubts and lonely thoughts that he had ever conjured in his mind, they were all accurate. He’d been used and discarded like a piece of trash. Tommy didn’t really love him. This whole affair, it was nothing more than a game to him.

“Look,” Tommy said flatly, no longer able to even look at him. “You and me… it’s just… not going to happen, Jimmy. I can’t be that fat guy you want. They’re fantasies, Jimmy! Nothing more. I’m finishing college with what’s likely to be a very mediocre degree and I need to make something of myself. I can’t just be your plaything for the rest of my life.”

The words cut through Jimmy like a knife. He felt foolish and embarrassed; then angry that Tommy was pinning it all on him; as if all of this had been driven solely by Jimmy’s desires and not his. As if Tommy was just an innocent bystander in all of it. He opened his mouth to retaliate but could already sense that he wasn’t going to be able to make it through a sentence without tears streaming down his face. He’d never forgive himself for making a spectacle of himself at this moment. He’d already been made to look like enough of a fool. Instead, he turned and did not look back. Not once.

And so, that was the very last memory Jimmy had of his greatest love affair. He left Tommy standing by his door, watching him return to his room. One final, bitter goodbye.

[scarlet-streak-fanfics]

Hellooo! I recently read your works and I liked them! Can I request Albert Moriarty x reader arranged marriage au? and the reader has villainess reputation thingy bc of her family like that and albert doesn't like her at first but eventually came to love after finding out reader is just a huge softie and wants to survive. I'm sorry if it's too long and Thank you!

Hello, Anon! Ok, so, I can tell that you probably want fluff from this, but my brain says angst, unfortunately. You can request some fluff follow up to this AU if needed. Anyways, off we go!

Albert had always hated his birthright. The entitlement of his family and the others in the social circles made his stomach churn–he’d rather have been born a pariah than live this luxurious, empty life. Arranged marriages were common among nobility. His father had told him something about blood purity that Albert had chosen not to remember. The concept disgusted him, the idea that a drop of their blood could be worth more than any other human being’s. He’d been vaguely aware of his own betrothal to the daughter of some equally horrible family and had resigned himself to that fate. That is, until Louis and his brother came into his life.

After a life of self-hatred, he had a reason to not hate the power and wealth that came with his status–after all, it allowed him to dedicate himself as an invaluable tool in William’s already impressive arsenal. The day his family died and their lavish estate was burned was the day Albert finally started to live.

Unfortunately, considering that the three boys had no remaining family, guardianship of them was given to the family of Albert’s intended bride. His betrothed, Y/N, seemed tolerable enough–pretty, well-spoken, and intelligent. However, when you lie with dogs, you tend to walk away with fleas, and her family was even worse than Albert’s had been. After only a few days with them, the Moriarty brothers had already deemed them the next target of their plan, and Albert was not attached enough to Y/N to make plans to spare her. In his eyes, she was at best complacent in her family’s horrible deeds and at worst being groomed to become one of them.

That assessment of her remained until a few days before their plan was set to go into motion. Albert had been walking to the servants' quarters–Y/N’s family had insisted upon housing Louis there, just like his family had, so he and William often made visits there. This time, however, he heard crying from the room next to Louis’s, and a gentle voice speaking in a soothing yet worried tone. “Amelia, please just let me wrap it for you. It can’t be healthy to leave that open, especially since they won’t let you change your work enough to keep it clean.”

When Albert pushed open the door, the offer of help died on his lips as Y/N shot up to her feet, putting herself between him and the sobbing servant girl. The fire in his betrothed’s eyes caught him off guard, as did the steady strength in her voice. “Your opinion matters little to me in this situation, Lord Moriarty, so I’d prefer to hold your tongue. Amelia has been injured, most likely at the hands of my father, and I intend to help her.”

He realized she’d taken his silence as horror instead of surprise. “My lady, we keep a small medical supply kit under Louis’s bed. I believe it has the items necessary for sutures. Do you have a steady hand?”

It’s Y/N’s turn to be surprised–all she could do was nod. Albert leaned slightly to look past her, assessing what Amelia might need. The bruises on her wrists and the deep, still-bleeding gash visible on the palm of her hand made his heart hurt. “I’ll fetch the kit. Would you be able to get some hot water? I’d prefer to resterilize the tools and clean that cut properly before sewing it shut.”

Y/N seemed to have regained her composure as she nods again. “I’ll bring some clean cloth from my room as well–I’d prefer to know that whatever material we use is unlikely to carry any sort of infection.”

Both completed their missions, reconvening in Amelia’s room to begin the task of tending to her wounds. True to her word, Y/N’s hand was steady, deftly stitching up the cut while offering soft words of encouragement to the girl. Albert busied himself with the cloth that she’d brought with her, cutting it into thin strips in order to make it better for bandaging. To his surprise, the material seems to be rather expensive. “My lady, where did you get this?”

“I cut it from one of my dresses–Mother won’t miss it, I’m sure, and the material is plain enough that nobody would suspect anything without closer inspection.” Albert found himself with a new appreciation for his intended bride, deciding to allow her to finish helping Amelia before asking her more questions.

Once Amelia was bandaged and comfortable, Albert offered to walk Y/N back to her room, which she tentatively accepted. As they walked down the hallway, Albert cleared his throat. “I take it that you don’t approve of your family’s behavior, then?”

“Of course not! It disgusts me that people can think they were born with the right to treat other humans like dirt.” Gears started turning in the oldest Moriarty brother’s head. “If there was a way you could change that, would you do it? Even if it meant leaving it all behind?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her voice, but she looked at him with a guarded expression. “Do you have a way to do that?”

“No, but my brother William does, and we could always use more help. I must warn you, though, if you accept this, there’s no going back.” Y/N came to a stop, forcing him to do the same as she stuck out her hand towards him. “I’d be happy to assist with that, Lord Moriarty.”

He took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake as a smile spread slowly across his face. Perhaps this engagement would turn out to be the only positive thing his parents had ever done for him

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[aetheternity]

How they simp ft the Aot boys

This is both Aot universe and Modern universe. I’ll separate them accordingly. 

(The charismatic simp): Jean  

•Aot verse:

☆ He's gonna become your friend as soon as he realizes he has a crush on you and he'll do everything in his power to stay by your side when that happens.

☆ He'll slide into the first available seat next to you in the mess hall and bring extra bread so that he can slide it onto your plate if you're extra hungry.

☆ If you spend a lot of time in the library he'll find a book similar to whatever he'd seen you reading before. (Of course he has to ask Armin what kind of books would be similar to your current choice.)

☆ And once he knows your favorite genre he'll head to the library late at night and grab a couple from that genre. Bookmarking his favorite pages so he can talk to you about it and you'll think he's super smart. (He's definitely fallen asleep with many books on his lap, chest and head since he started crushing on you.)

☆ If you have a hobby that's more interactive like sewing or flower picking he'll offer to carry your little basket or wear the thing you're currently stitching up so you can work better.

☆ And yes he did get caught wearing flowers in his hair by Eren. But it was because you'd smiled so fondly at him while sticking daisies in his brown hair. Giggling so cutely when they fell out. And he was gonna take that memory to his fucking grave regardless of what titan idiot had to say about it.

☆ And yes he did get caught wearing a skirt that you were fixing for Historia. By both Connie and Levi.

☆ Levi who went pale in the face and looked as though he was secretly praying for his own demise to come soon as he slowly closed the door and walked away.

☆ And Connie who laughed so hard he choked on his own spit and had to be helped to the infirmary because he was now coughing every time he breathed. So Karma ig 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

☆ He just has to touch you..

☆ Oh God he wants to. He's gonna find a way. Whether it's a little shoulder nudge when you're complimented during meetings by higher ups. Or pats on your back.

☆ If you confide in him about your lack of confidence before a mission he's gonna sit with you and talk you through your feelings.

☆ He does this thing where he leans into you when talking. Rests his hand on your lower back as his breath touches your ear. Whispers sweet compliments into your ear because you need that shit.

☆ And it's good enough to make your toes curl.

☆ Guides you by the wrist through thick crowds so you don't get overwhelmed or lost and sometimes you expect it so you reach out for him and the two of you end up holding hands instead.

☆ He's become your little nurse. Like of course he's worried when you get hurt but there's also the opportunity to fix you up. So silver linings 🙄.

☆ If you're allergic to anything he doesn't have it in his first aid kit. Sometimes you'll get like the smallest little bruise on your knee of some shit. And it's not even from training, you just happened to trip while cleaning the stables and now: thumb sized bruise. But he's like "I don't care, sit so I can clean it."

☆ "It could get infected!" He'll try to convince you but like no, no it couldn't come on now it wasn't even really bloody..

☆ If you just so happen to have extra chores he'll go out and bring you some water then offer to help. Or he'll just ask Levi if he can go help you.

☆ "Those boxes could be heavy." He'll tell the Captain. "We don't need anyone getting unnecessarily injured before the next mission." And of course Levi knows what he's doing and sends him to go help because he honestly doesn't wanna listen to this anymore.

☆ If you have back problems or even if you don't he wants to carry your bag. No you don't get a say in it. But you can go ahead and argue with him if you want to.

• "I just think it looks too heavy."

• "Jean, I'm ok I promise."

• "Ok how about this? Let me hold it for a couple minutes then I'll give it right back."

☆ Yeeeaah. You're not getting your shit back. He's gonna walk you all the way to your designated location and then put the bag down where you need to be for that time period. Even if it completely inconveniences him.

☆ And he won't tell you that he had a meeting that he's now over 12 minutes late to. You don't need to know it'd just worry you for no reason.

☆ He has adapted some sort of like sixth sense when it comes to you. Like sometimes he'll wake up in the middle of the night to pee and just so happens to walk past your bedroom door as you're reading a book on the floor or crying or something.

☆ And now he's sitting with you even though his organs are currently failing.

☆ He'll bring you a glass of water or tea or whatever you want. You want food? He'll find it. Want a book? He'll go get it.

☆ Sometimes he sits in bed with you and just lets you cuddle up to him or reads you a book as you lay on his chest listening to the unsteady beats of his heart. Unsteady cause ya know it's you laying on him. And yeah his face is becoming redder by the second but he can't stop staring at your sleeping face. Even if you snore louder than a titan stomping he doesn't give a single fuck.

☆ At some point everyone thinks you two are dating and they talk to you both as if this is the case but you're not! At least not until Jean finally explains that yes, he does have, "Feelings for you." Tells you exactly how long in fact because to him it's crucial.

☆ When he kisses you it's the type of kiss that makes you suck in air. He takes you by the shoulders, slowly looking for even the smallest bit of hesitation in your face and presses his lips to yours. When you pull away you're lightheaded, pupils blown as you look at him with stars in your eyes.

☆ "Oh.. wow." Is all you mutter.

☆ Good luck, you just fed his giant ego.

•Modern verse:

☆ Modern day Jean is more shy and reserved. He'll definitely try to become your friend but he probably has a lot less opportunities to get you alone.

☆ If you both work at the same place you're probably both confined to your own spaces and if you both go to the same school you might have separate classes.

☆ So here's what he's doing: finding anyway, shape or form to invite you out.

☆ He got an extra ticket to a concert. He'll just not tell Connie and invite you to come with him. Because you know.. you deserve a break after work right? There's a new restaurant opening near him? Cool he's already on the phone telling you their entire menu. (He might have memorized it before calling but he won't tell you he's reading off the menu.)

☆ Sometimes he might go to your desk and leave you something sweet or cute. Like candy or little desk ornaments but he's always too shy to write a note that has his name at the bottom so he settles for staying anonymous. His heart immediately grows three sizes when he sees you playing with the desk ornament he left or eating the candy while typing away at the computer.

☆ He'll look out your favorite band so he can find out when they'll come to the city where you guys live and buy the tickets. Maybe he stays up all night, what does it matter sleep is for the weak.

☆ Or he'll find out your favorite restaurant and go there when he knows you might be going so he can just happen to run into you. No obviously it's not creepy. 😑

☆ If he can't seem to connect with you plan b is to pimp out Sasha. He just has to connect with you! So he'll get Sasha to find out any useful information on you and report back or he'll ask Sasha to become close with your best friends.

☆ If not Sasha then Connie 🤷‍♀️

☆ Once he gets useful information that's when he steps in. Oh you have a presentation for school to work on? He's at your door at 10pm with snacks (that he knows you love thanks to Sasha), energy drinks, and information on the topic you're working on.

☆ I'm talking he brought papers full of information in case you need to beef up your slides. He also brought his own laptop so he can search up any information that seems incorrect. He'll listen to you as you talk about your project and give you feedback on your performance.

☆ This might take all night but he can't help his desire to help you. And of course he's not gonna tell you if he has his own homework to work on.

• "You think it's good? Really?" You'll ask as you close your laptop for the night.

• "You're gonna get an A. Especially since I helped so now it's guaranteed."

• He loves the way you snort and roll your eyes at him when he says this.

• "Thanks Jean, you're a life saver."

☆ If you hug him you might also need to help him up off the floor or bandage him up cause he's gonna hurt himself from the shock and excitement.

☆ If you have a work presentation or just in general need help with something you're doing for your boss. He'll dedicate as much time as he has open to helping you with that too.

☆ Need coffee before your presentation? He's running to the nearest shop. Don't really understand the project your boss gave you? He'll work you through it the whole night.

☆ If you happen to tell him on a Friday that something in your house needs fixing all of a sudden he's 'Fix it Jean' now he's telling you he can fix it tomorrow and the second he hangs up he's looking up how to fix a clogged valve or some shit.

☆ And Sasha and Connie are like, "Sir, what made you think you were a handy man??"

☆ He manages though. Brings like three books to your house and looks through all of them simultaneously. Thinks he messed everything up and is about two seconds away from crying on your floor like a toddler with a spilled juice box but he pulls through surprisingly. Has your shit fixed and gets a little kiss on the cheek.

☆ Which leads into him guiltily explaining the truth and telling you everything. From the trinkets to the tickets to now with this thing he nearly ruined in your apartment. But he's so relieved to see you're grateful for everything instead of annoyed like he'd been believing in his head.

☆ Now he gets a real kiss. And Modern day Jean is built different. He's so nervous to touch you like you're made of glass. But when he does he's got his hands on your sides, keeping you in place like you'll run. Your fingers delicately threading through his hair. Giving you the kind of kiss you don't wanna pull away from. You become so quickly attached to the taste of his lips and the subtle beats of hesitation still lingering on him.

☆ You wanna pull his tongue into your mouth. Keep him so close but he pushes you back. "I wanna take you on a date." He mutters with glassy eyes and bright cheeks.

☆ And obviously you say, "Yes."

(The informed simp): Armin

•Aot verse:

☆ As everyone has said a thousand times before. Armin is an informed simp. And within the first week of knowing he has a crush on you he has information on, your family life before you joined the Corp, your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite flower, your hobbies etc etc.

☆ And every bit of that information is stored in his file cabinet like brain.

☆ When he found out your favorite color he wore it as often as possible in out of uniform situations. Even if it was just accenting the rest of his clothes he found a way to wear it somewhere.

☆ He skimmed through books that had information on attraction and started subtly complimenting you to make you notice him.

• "Hi, [Name] that jacket really brings out your eyes."

• "It's the same jacket everyone's wearing Armin.."

• "Oh.. yeah.."

☆ Sneaks references to things you like into conversation as often as possible. Because you know, right after a meeting is the best time to talk about how your favorite song is tied to the fact that your mom used to sing it to you to help you sleep?? 😃

☆ More power to him.. he's a little confused but he's got the spirit.

☆ He slipped flowers into your favorite books but it didn't really seem to matter because he was never there when you actually encountered the flowers. (But he did often see you talking about the plants with your friends and twirling them between your fingers) good enough.

☆ He found out ways to better help your digestion. You know because what's love if not healthy bowel movements.. cause like every other attempt made him look stupid so he looked through some books on foods to help keep your colon healthy. And he explained it over dinner..

☆ Safe to say the only one who thought this topic was at all interesting was Levi.

☆ He's absolutely bombing and he hates it. At this point you only give him shy little smiles and then just walk away. He knows you probably don't hate him but he hates that nothing is working for him.

☆ At some point Eren's talking to him solo and he explains that he knows about his crush on you. Following it up promptly with, "Why don't you just tell [Name] that everything you were doing wasn't to be weird, at this point coming clean is probably the only way you could still have a chance."

☆ And he hates it that Eren's right. But he marches right up to you when you have chores out in the stables because if he didn't he'd never say all the things rushing around in his brain.

• "Hi Armin." You greet with that smile.. that smile that makes his stomach tense and his heart want to burst.

• He breathes in before replying, "[Name], I.. like you.." You pause where you're getting water for the horses to see his sun kissed red cheeks. "Everything I've done is because I really like you.." He continues, letting out a shaky breath.

☆ A period of far too long goes by with neither of you saying a word and his blue eyes flicker up to you in concern. When you clap your hands together he nearly parts from his skin.

• "Oh! That explains the weird compliments and the stuff about my mom!" You sigh, slapping your head with a smile. "Oh thank God. Armin I like you too."

☆ More silence because 1. He didn't think you'd like him back and 2. Holy shit you like him back!! He's simultaneously having a party in his brain and melting into the floor.

☆ When he finally kisses you it's unsure. Makes you lean into him. Sweet but subtle like gentle breezes on a hot day. His mouth is closed and his arms cautiously wrap around your waist looking for any sign that you want to get out. But you don't. You just wanna keep pecking his cute little lips because he's so cute and everything he's done is so cute.

• "Finally." You guys turn to see Mikasa and Eren.

• "It's about time." Mikasa greets with a little smirk.

☆ And Armin is practically fainting trying desperately to explain that it wasn't what it looked like but his face continues to tell your little audience that yes. Yes it is what it looks like.

•Modern verse:

☆ Modern day Armin is equipped with an advantage.

☆ Fucking social media.

☆ He went to your page and found out your birthday, your family's last name, how many friends you have in real life. Shit if he dug around long enough he could've probably found your heritage portfolio and your social security. (Social media's a little dangerous sometimes..)

☆ So when he becomes your friend and gets your cell number (Another thing he could've probably dug up online.) He sends you things you might love at any and all times of the day. He spends every free second he has, from lunch time to the last hour he has before he really has to go to sleep researching shit you might like so he can send it to you.

☆ And modern day Armin is so sexy in how he manages to get you into a ton of situations featuring him, your cute little blond simp. Modern day Armin needs to write romance anime 😭

☆ He heard you like aquariums not only did he send you a website to get those tickets way cheaper but he also invited himself (telling you that he was already going). And planned to take you around the city to get your favorite food and any other activities where he could drop his extensive knowledge on marine life. Oh you love astronomy? No problem he was just about to go to the planetarium this weekend, you should definitely go along so he can take you to the planet's light show and stare at you instead of the stars.

☆ Oh your favorite movie is coming out? He had no idea.. he just happened to have an extra ticket to see it the day it comes out. Not only is it now free of charge to you for that but he's also already brought a bunch of your favorite snacks to line his backpack with. Even if your favorite snacks are from a different country he got them express shipped so they'd be there sooner.

☆ He also has weather apps on his phone and laptop so that he'll know if the weather changes even the smallest fraction so that he can take you anywhere else if needed.

☆ Yes he definitely has spent a shit ton of money on you but every time he takes you somewhere your face lights up so beautifully that he'd repeatedly slam his credit card on the table to buy you a plane ticket if you even hinted at wanting it.

☆ In this beautiful opposite world you definitely confessed to him. (You better for his pain and suffering.)

☆ He could've jumped for joy knowing his plans worked perfectly but he simply takes a deep breath, eyes full of contentment as he mumbles, "I feel the same way."

☆ When he kisses you it's with his thumbs lightly rubbing the small of your back. Chewing gum spit out only fifteen minutes ago so his breath was still perfectly fresh. Adding just enough tongue to make you arch and gasp into his mouth. And yeah, he read up on how to do that too. And now that you're his, he's gonna need two jobs cause he came to spoil. No you don't get a say in it.

(The interested simp): Eren

•Aot verse:

☆ Yeah I know this one's weird but let me explain. Eren's simping capabilities are so simple they can be so easily described as, interested.

☆ He legit figured out he had a crush on you and then about 15 minutes later he'd found out everything you'd wanna be if you lived to see the end of the war.

☆ It's so obvious he's simping hard, I mean man's was enamored by you talking about your parents workshop back home. 🙄 You know what I don't even think he was actually interested he was probably playing it up but lowkey disassociated

☆ He definitely gets made fun of for it on the daily too but unlike Jean he kinda shrugs it off.

☆ He's not gonna scavenge the earth for information on you. He's gonna let you tell him and he wants you to tell him. Tell him literally everything about yourself and you will cause he'll know if you don't.

☆ Sometimes he plays little games with you to try to figure out some kind of information about you on like a long ride back from a mission or something. It helps him ease the tension in his brain and gives him something new about you. Win-win

☆ He beat the fucking system by just getting you to talk about you and dropping things you both have in common into conversation. He really did better than Armin!

☆ If you have trouble during training he'll talk you through what you're doing wrong and help you work through your issues. If that leads to some touching well then that's just how things will go 🤷‍♀️

☆ The second he has your favorite color in his mind he's buying you a piece of jewelry with the same stone color. Yes this is him marking you as his and no you probably won't realize but the second you put it on in his eyes you belong to him. And now you can never take it off. 😃

☆ He has a little notebook (not for writing journal entries or anything.) It's just sometimes he forgets certain things you tell him and you pretend to pout when he asks for the information again so he writes it down in the notebook so he can read it and remember it again.

☆ There have definitely been instances on more than one occasion where the two of you would stay up all night talking. Sneak into the other person's room. Sitting on the floor together or side by side on the bed. Those are definitely the best nights because you get to show off your Eren trivia and prove you've retained just as much information on him as he has about you.

☆ Another scenario has presented itself in which you're the one who ends up confessing. Eren would come close cheeks flush with pink and whisper, the ghost of his lips on yours, "I think it's kinda obvious how I feel." When he kisses you it's with both hands cupping your cheeks. So hot against your face. Thumbs curving delicately over your skin. He's leaning into your lips over and over again. Recapturing them every time he pulls back but he also loves making you work for it a little, smirking when you have to strech to capture his lips again. Taking every bit of oxygen from your body. You kinda hold onto him with slightly shaky arms when he's finished. But honestly he's only finished for now cause he'll never get enough of your lips now that he's had a taste.

•Modern verse:

☆ Modern day Eren talked to you before he realized he was attracted to you and you haven't gotten rid of him since the day he realized he wanted you.

☆ He sees you walking to your next class or to the copy machine and he trots his way over to match your pace.

☆ When he's not with you, he's texting you nonsensical stuff he thinks you'll find funny. And when he is with you he's listening to every word you say with the dopiest grin adorning his features.

☆ Sometimes when you're talking he'll unsubtly lick his lips to see if he can make your eyes follow his tongue or he'll lean in closer, kinda crowding you a little if you're both standing. Speaking of crowding he pulls you into him by your hips if you just happen to be standing in the way and someone needs to get past you two.

☆ You'll never understand how much harder he falls for you when you look up at him through your pretty lashes. Hands slightly on his chest.

☆ He loves annoying you. Doing little shit like poking you with the eraser on his pencil or snatching your books from you when you're writing while he's talking. Cause he just thinks you should be staring into his eyes while he talks in the same way he does with you.

☆When he brings you dinner he always brings himself something to eat as well and he'll plop down next to you and ask you for details about your day. Smiling fondly at you when you complain about minor inconveniences.

☆ He loves your fingers so much. If he's not staring into your eyes he's looking at the way your thumb drags over your dripping boba/coffee. The way your fingers click perfectly over every key on your laptop. Every now and then he'll reach out for your hands massaging the knuckles because he just wants to touch them so bad. Bonus points if you smile at him while he does it.

☆ Not gonna lie it could definitely go either way with a confession. But it's probably more likely going to be on you unless he just so happens to accidentally confess while sleepy or drunk.

☆ When he kisses you, he cups your chin pulling you close, angling his tongue so it slides right up against your teeth. He softly hums into your mouth and you can tell he's at least a little nervous but his touch is so perfect. His thumb sliding over the edge of your lips as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You're more than a little ashamed at the whine you let out when he pulls away. But the way he's blushing makes you feel at least a little bit better.

(The Childish simp): Connie

•Aot verse:

☆ Let's be honest, he doesn't know what he's doing. You know, cause you're his first crush.

☆ He's going to work extra hard to drop even the most random jokes and then look directly at you hoping you laugh. Just laugh cause if you don't he might repeat the joke again and that'd be uncomfortable for everyone.

☆ And when you crack a joke he's out here guffawing like it's the best thing he's ever heard. Like he'll legit pause all conversation with his loud ass laughing and everyone in the room is just like: 😒

☆ If he gives you gifts they're normally things he thinks are cool or awesome but every now and then he'll pick a flower and just randomly stuff it in your hair and when you look at him confused smile adorning your face he'll say, "It fits your face." And then awkwardly gesture at you. All you can really say is thank you.

☆ He practically crashes into the seat next to you at meetings. Jean dead ass started pretending to race him for the seat next to you and one time he tipped the chair over and fell on top of it, Levi made him reenter the room properly after he'd managed to stand up.

☆ He sometimes does that I'm not touching you thing to get your attention or taps your shoulder then looks away as you turn to look at him. He'll poke your shoulder a couple times until he's successful in keeping your eyes on him then he'll hover his finger over your head or shoulder until you roll your eyes.

• "Connie.."

• "I'm not even touching you!" He'll laugh

☆ He does nice things for you but they never really work out well for him. One time he got you a glass of water because he thought you looked thirsty and he placed it in front of you when you weren't looking. You turned from where you were talking with Historia and your elbow tipped over the cup spilling its contents all over your lap and meeting notes. He felt so so bad.

☆ One time you tripped during training and got a huge scratch on your leg and Levi stepped in to care for you. He asked Connie to go get the alcohol and in his excitement he ran back and tripped spilling the entire bottle all over the floor. Eren had to go run to the closest store and get more.

☆ At some point in time he walks into your room and sloppily pours his feelings out to you as you sit on your bed staring at him in confusion. His face is like beet red and he's breathing like he just ran a marathon. But you laugh and tell him you think he's adorable. You think he's gonna hug you when he pulls you in under your arms but he just holds your back super tight with both hands and swings you around till you can't stop giggling. His kiss is sweet a little sloppy cause it's his first but he's eager and cute as he pulls you into his chest. Probably bites your lip in a playful way and you can't help but lean into him.

•Modern verse:

☆ Modern day Connie is probably annoying the fuck out of you. He sends you memes all day! Put your phone on silent all you want you'll just come back to 40+ messages. And he likes to call you when he's not busy which means you're forever regretting giving him your number.

☆ He'll deadass go to the bathroom and face time you in the stall talkin bout some, "What're you doing right now?" And you're like, "Mfer what are you doing right now!"

☆ He takes any given opportunity to flirt with you and he's so goofy you won't realize he genuinely means everything he says,

• "I really hate your last name." He randomly says

• "What'd my last name do to you?"

• He shrugs, "I think you should change it."

• "To what?" You scoff

• "Springer 😘"

☆ And he calls you for the stupidest shit when he's at home:

• "Connie, what's wrong? You called me like four times in a row."

• "Which animals do you think would be the bitchest if they spoke human?"

• "Bye Connie 😑"

• "No wait!"

• "What?"

• "Send nudes."

☆ Loves to lay on you when you're sitting. Like he'll deadass drop his whole weight onto your back while you're sitting in your desk chair trying to work. He's just looking for a way to touch you and doesn't know how to express that.

☆ Yes he does have you in his phone as something crass and no he's not willing to change it. Most likely some shit like fat ass with a heart or Mommy/Daddy as a personal joke.

☆ And yeah you find him super annoying until this one night when he's texting you pics of his old family dog back home and he tells you everything about the dog's life from when he was a puppy to the day he passed and he shows you pics of him kissing the little pups head and holding him and things like that. The last video he sent was him crying while holding a framed photo after the dog's passing during Christmas time. And it's the first time you've ever been provoked to hug Connie instead of choke him.

☆ When the time finally comes for Connie to tell you his feelings you're in a good place to accept them and tell him you like him back. And that's when he pulls you in around the neck and gives you a surprisingly natural kiss. His mouth is parted slightly, hands gripping the back of your shirt a little as he keeps you close. He allows you to take the lead. Forehead warm where it's pressed against his. You both can't help but stay like that for awhile.

(The lowkey simp): Levi

•Aot verse:

☆ Rule number 1 you cannot know he is simping. He'll take it to his grave but if you're not oblivious you'll probably catch on.

☆ When he disassociates during a meeting his eyes get darker in the middle and he just rests his chin on his palm and stares at you. Doesn't matter that the meeting has been going on for more than an hour and he has yet to blink. He doesn't even know he's doing it. When he comes back down to earth he just blinks normally and looks away. And if no one tells him he'll honestly continue to do it. Sometimes in different positions, he's laying back in his chair head forward but his eyes are on you a couple seats down on the other side of the table.

☆ He picks up items whenever he goes into town. And I mean every. single. time. For you and he makes sure it's something you'll love and while you're out training he'll stuff it in a box and place it on your bed.

☆ He writes you anonymous notes with little inspirational words on them in places only you'll find them. But it's inspirational in Levi terms so it's shit like, "Stay alive for tomorrow." And "Don't look down because the sun is up."

☆ When he needs a break from work he just closes his eyes and thinks about you. Sometimes he does it just because he secretly loves that warm floating sensation he gets.

☆ Like Eren he'll trot up beside you whenever he can. But he won't say a word unless you say something first.

• "Hi Captain." You greet when he pops into your peripheral vision.

• Genuinely can not help how soft his eyes are when he looks at you, "Hello." He replies

☆ He'll find some reason to complain about the way his entire squad cleans their rooms so that he can also have an excuse to say he'll reclean them so that he has an excuse to make a bee line for your room first and be trapped in your scent. Taking your sheets off the bed and holding them to his chest, sweeping, getting that extra elbow grease on the windows so they're more spotless than even his standards.

☆ And of course because he doesn't want you to know he's simping hard for you he has to deal with you paying him the same amount of attention as the other higher ups which he hates with a burning passion. Like why don't you like him more? He does way more for you on a level that you can see. You should be more affectionate towards him. You talk to him everyday.

☆ I don't think I need to tell you Levi's shy so you'll be confessing. And you start by telling him you know the notes are from him because while Levi's intelligent he's also stupid. Like who the fuck else has access to your uniform clothes and would care enough to go in your drawers just to leave a piece of paper with the words, "Life is never so shitty that you can't at least better yourself."

☆ He kinda just lowers his head as pink soaks his entire face. And you lift his chin up to press a slow chaste kiss on his lips. He doesn't touch you. He can't bring himself to but he manages to kiss back. His irises so bright when you pull away. "Thank you Captain." You tell him before you leave. He's definitely genuinely worried his heart is getting ready to explode as he stares at the closed door.

•Modern verse

☆ Modern day Levi is a fucking mess. He doesn't know shit about having a crush and he knows it's you really early into meeting you but he's like, why them. He managed to spend his entire existence avoiding romance and yet here you are. He doesn't even know what he wants from you so sometimes he comes off a little more aggressive when he's talking to you.

☆ He stares directly into your soul when you're sitting across from him for any reason. You had to have had a crush on him first because he genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself.

☆ If you invite him somewhere he scoffs immediately following it up with a, "I'll be there."

☆ He rereads your messages whenever he's bored. And if you send him good morning texts he'll be thinking, morning beautiful angel. The one time you sent him a good morning text with a heart he analyzed it so long that he never replied back to you.

☆ The second he figured out how to use personalized ringtones he made yours something soft and sweet. Most likely with violins or maybe with a harp.

☆ A couple times while he was bored during a meeting or class he wrote your initials in cursive in his notebook. One time he wrote it on the front of his notebook by accident and had to throw that one away. Which honestly made him sad because he really liked how it looked.

☆ When you confess to him it's by accident and the way his face lights up is actually the most precious thing you've ever seen. He comes back down to earth slow and admits that he "feels the same." Under his breath of course but you heard and that's what counts.

☆ When you kiss him you instantly notice how small his lips actually are 🥺🥺 like you've stared at them before when he was eating and stuff but his lips are cute and so small. And he's so hesitant to kiss back. But then he does and you can kinda feel the tension leave him a little. His arms a little shaky as he supports himself. It probably looks like two middle schoolers kissing for the first time honestly. Right down to the sitting on the edge of the bed thing. But Levi's lips are so warm and he's such a naturally good kisser that you indulge for as long as you can.

[tinyproprodigy]

Hi! Umm, this is my first ask so I hope it makes sense :-:

I was wondering if you could do a Portia x reader where the reader finds Portia overworking herself and is concerned and helps her? Also if you can, a stoic, somewhat oblivious and blunt MC would be perfect! Thanks! :3

Heya! The ask was clear and understandable, don't worry much. Plus it's my first ask to be answered so AHHH- okay. Hope you enjoy it! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Portia

"you need rest too." - Portia x any gender

||Note: you will be addressed as "you" the whole time without mention of any gender specifications.||

|| Reblogs are welcome! ||

Special lines

+"Even if you don't notice, I'll always continue loving you."

+"you need to rest. Stop overworking yourself."

+ overworked portia

+accidental confessions

+blunt, oblivious, stoic Mc! (No gender specified)

"argh, get off will you..." Portia grumbled as she continued on with her daily chores, unable to get a twig that somehow lodged itself between the stones on the pathway somehow.

A quick tug was enough to pull it out as she continued, carrying a large seed bag, plopping it on the ground with a huff as she wiped sweat away from her neck and continued on.

Watching from the balcony, you frowned at this. You had always known that she had worked for the palace for a longer time than when you met her but never have you actually seen her work.

Yes, there have been a handful of times where she was passing by- mid chore and saw you, waving or sending you a quick greeting as she scurried past, a light blush on her face that you assumed was a sunburn of sorts.

Maybe indoors sunburn was a thing? Who knew. Magic made a lot of things questionable.

You were too busy to question any of this most of the time, as being the palace magician came with a lot of work of its own which caused you to stay indoors most of the time.

Your friends have encouraged you to came out more- especially Nadia as she joked about you being always slow when it came to interacting with people and that, being glued to the library was probably the cause.

Hiss!

A hiss of pain quickly snapped you from your deep thoughts as you quickly searched for her and found her peering at her palm.

She had gotten a splinter. Shrugging it off, she carried on working. That...was that normal?

'That must be painful' you thought as you recalled the amount of times you had helped Julian with some cuts. He'd insist he'll heal but you helped anyways.

Next step already in mind, you headed straight out of the library after snatching the small, palm sized first aid kit. exchanging a nod with the palace guards and workers as they enthusiastically greeted you back.

Finally at the entrance of the garden, spotting Portia's back as power walked and stopped right behind her.

She began turning around before you could speak or even tap her on the shoulder, flinching out of shock before realising it's just you. "Y-y/n! Where did you pop out from?" She asked with a nervous laugh, still cooling down from the light scare.

"I didn't pop...out?" You replied, voice filled with confusion. Why was she assuming you popped out from the ground? The soil you stood on was flat, no signs of it being tampered with.

"ah, of course you'd think that." She replied with a fond smile, eyes twinkling a little as she peered into yours. What a strange woman.

"your hand..." You spoke, opening your palm for her to place hers ove yours.

"My hand?"

"yes. And sit down." You added, gesturing to the knee sized stone wall nearby. Settling down on the exact spot, she silently watched you sit down and start working on the splinter with full attention and percussion with awe.

"Is there something strange on my face?" You asked, startling her slightly as you had been looking back at her for a while now. A light blush creeped up her neck as she smiled. "N-no!" She quickly answered.

"you looked... constipated." You bluntly said, not fully processing how that'd come across. "Pft- I do?" She asked laughing at what you had said as she covered her other hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter.

"It's just that...it's nice seeing you out of the library." She smiled, gesturing towards her injured one in your palm.

"And you don't have to do that. I'll be fine! Happens a lot you know, I usually don't have time because I have more work...I have more work!" She realized as she shot up from her seat only to be yanked down by you with a huff.

"you need to rest. Stop overworking yourself." You scolded, finishing up quick and helping her up and towards the palace. "I-i have more work though!" She protested, looking around as if she'd be in trouble at any second.

"I already spoke to Nadia and the rest of your duties will be taken care of."

"Oh, I see..." She mumbled, watching you walk Infront of her, your back straight, chin up with confidence and face as stoic as ever. She never really spoke to you much but she'd quite a bit of gossip about you from the workers.

One would mention your attractiveness- which happened a lot, others mentioned how you'd help them out with random stuff they were struggling with. You sounded like an angel.

Sometimes they'd mention how a stuck up noble once came to Vesuvia and tried, key word- TRIED flirting with you only for you to not get it and wonder why the noble was calling you a thief for stealing a heart? Was hers not in her chest as she spoke? How is she still alive?

And she kind of liked you because of those. She'd never said anything though and thought of letting hints out here and there but you were always never getting it so it was a futile idea. she had settled for admiring you from afar, watching you speak with Asra with a small smile she wished would be directed at her. That smile was everything to her.

"Even if you don't notice, I'll always continue loving you." She mumbled, her gaze strictly on her shoes as a light smile crossed her features.

"you will?"

"you heard me!?"